#saw the pattern on her robe and went for it

[goshdangronpa]

Three consistent days of Dangancember Art Challenge? I gotta tell ya, I didn't think I'd make it this far. It helps that this is actually pretty fun

Day 3, 12/9/22: Hiyoko Saionji!

Definitely one of the best sets of facial expressions among all DR characters, choosing one was tough!

Hiyoko plays a vital role in SDR2: the asshole. The heel. The one you love to hate. Really, if everyone in the cast was amiable and likable, it wouldn't be nearly as fun. It helps that when she isn't recycling the same insults for Mikan, she can be hilarious. Admit it: you actually enjoy this immature brat.

[virescent-v]

except me pt 2

A/N: Another smutty Emily fic! Sorry this one took me like...two months. I have no excuse lmao.

Summary: This is the second part to Except Me which can be read here! Reader goes to Emily's after work and fun ensues ;)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings below the cut!

Warnings: thigh grinding, restraints, anal plugs, mommy kink, praise kink, some slight degradation, strap-ons, squirting (if you squint)

x-x-x

The work day seemed to drag on after your encounter with Emily in her office. You tried to focus on your paperwork, tried to keep your eyes from straying towards her office, but you were struggling. You left work around five, wanting to go home and freshen up before heading towards Emily’s apartment. 

As you finished your shower, where you took extra time to exfoliate, shave, and moisturize, you got a text from your boss that accelerated your heartbeat. 

Emily: Arrive by seven, no later. When you get here, come in and follow the directions on the counter. 

You could already feel the excitement bubbling up at the prospect of what the night was going to bring, so you just liked the text and finished getting ready. You did your makeup a little heavier, smokier around the eyes, a dark red lipstick adorning your lips. You opted for a simple black lace set of undergarments, figuring it wouldn’t be on too long to make a real difference, and a simple white cotton shirt and jeans. 

You left your place with enough time to get to Emily’s slightly before seven, not wanting to start the night off on the wrong foot. When you opened her door, you could hear a slight thumping bass echoing from further in the apartment. Your eyes scanned the main entryway, not seeing Emily. Walking to the counter in the kitchen, you saw a note folded in half with your name on it in Emily’s loopy scrawl and a gift bag beside it. Opening the note, you felt your already fast heart rate speed up even more. 

“Be a good girl for me, angel, and take off everything you’re wearing and put on what I’ve bought for you. Meet me upstairs when you’re ready. Second door on the left.” 

Going through the gift bag, you gasped at the high quality material of the lingerie, the color seemingly black in the low light of the apartment. Bringing the garment fully out of the bag, you saw that it was actually a very dark green, a color that was one of your favorites and went well with your skin tone. The lingerie was more intricate than you originally speculated. The entire set matched completely, from the panties to the bra to the garter. There were multiple criss-crossing lines and a hint of a floral pattern on the main pieces that covered your privates. It was complex, but still sophisticated without being too much. A matching satin robe was also in the bag. 

You got dressed quickly, placing your clothes on the counter folded up. You wouldn’t be needing them for a while. 

You took a deep breath, centering yourself before beginning the climb up the stairs to where Emily was waiting for you. As you got closer to the room, you could smell a light, fragrant smell and see the flickering of the candle light from the hallway. 

With one more deep breath, you walked into the room. 

Your breath immediately caught in your lungs, stuttering out in a rapid staccato beat. 

Emily was lounging in an oversize, plush chair in the corner of her room reading a book. Her hair was down, a slight wave to it from being exposed to the air all day. She, too, had on a satin robe, hiding whatever was underneath. You wondered if her apparel matched yours or differed. To be honest, you weren’t sure you really even cared that much. You’d enjoy taking it off, though. 

But what had you absolutely hypnotized were the glasses that adorned her face, simple in shape, but drawing attention to her beautiful eyes. The frames sat a little lower on the bridge of her nose, having fallen slightly while her head was tilted down reading. 

“You’re staring, pretty girl,” Emily’s voice brought you out of your ogling. 

“You expect me not to? When you look like that?” 

Emily smirked, her eyes flicking over the pages, trying to equalize her attention between you and her book.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m wearing a robe. Nothing much to gawk at.” 

You cleared your throat, your toes scrunching up in the carpet beneath your feet. Breathily, you said, “it’s the glasses.” 

At that, Emily slowly closed her book, her eyes glancing up at you from under the lenses. Her pupils were dark, or so you thought, with the lighting in the room being what it was. She looked….hungry. Like she was assessing you. 

“Is that so?” She placed the book on the table beside the chair. She crossed her legs, putting each of her arms on the arms of the chair. She looked every bit of a woman in charge, a queen on a plush throne. 

You swallowed heavily. The temperature of the room felt like it increased five degrees with the way that Emily was looking at you. You nodded, already not trusting your voice to be steady. 

Emily tilted her head to the side, pulling her glasses off, bringing the temple piece that wrapped around her ear to between her teeth, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips. “Do me a favor and take that robe off. Slowly.” 

A deep inhale through your nose, you reached towards the tie of the robe, dragging it carefully between each finger, feeling the satin heat with each pass. Deliberately, you tugged the tie loose, letting the robe fall gently open. You watched as Emily’s eyes tracked every movement as the robe opened, but still kept most of the lingerie covered. With the tie undone, you drew your hands up the open sides of the robe, thoughtfully brushing your pinkies against your already hardened nipples. You let your head fall back slightly as you pulled the robe down your shoulders lazily, taking your time in exposing each inch of you. As more and more skin came into view, you watched as Emily’s grip tightened on the arm rests of the chair, as if she wanted to reach out and rip the robe from your body. 

You paused for a second, waiting for Emily’s eyes to catch yours before dropping the robe completely. Emily managed to keep eye contact with you for a few seconds after the robe hit the floor, but curiosity got the better of her, her eyes languidly caressing each miniscule part of you. You watched as her eyes traveled each intricate strap of your lingerie, taking in how well it complemented your figure. You watched as she swallowed, her tongue tracing her lower lip before her eyes met yours again. 

“You look absolutely delicious, baby.” 

Emily’s use of pet names were a sure fire way to get you to melt into the perfect headspace for the evening ahead. It made you feel special, looked after, and most importantly, hers. You’ve always enjoyed just the right amount of possessiveness with your partners; a way to finally feel like you belong to someone who will take care of you. 

“Thank you,” you all but whispered. 

Emily took another second to let her eyes travel over your body before beckoning you to her. “Come here,” she said, pointing to the floor in front of her. She placed her glasses on the table beside the chair. 

You walked slowly across the carpet, keeping eye contact with her the whole time. As you neared, Emily uncrossed her legs and gestured to the spot between them. Stopping between her legs, her hands lightly gripped your hips, keeping you in place. 

Emily took a quick breath, her thumbs rubbing circles on the sides of the lingerie, feeling the straps and lace. She looked up at you, which made you feel powerful, like you were controlling the shots. Even though you knew that she was absolutely in control. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to. We can stop at any time.” 

You smiled briefly, your hand coming up and tilting her chin upwards to get a better look at her. To make sure she heard you when you spoke. “I’m sure. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I want you to do whatever you want to me, Em.” Your thumb caressed her bottom lip, smiling a little when her tongue flicked over it. “But you better believe when you’re done I get my turn.”

Emily let out an almost silent moan, but you caught it. She took a deep breath. “Anything I should know before starting? Anything off the table?” 

You decided she’d been talking enough. The checking in was cute, sweet even, but you were pretty sure your panties were already ruined. You leaned down and kissed her softly. “I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page. I’ll stop you if I’m uncomfortable. Stoplight to check in, red and vanilla are my hard stops. Now touch me before I do it myself.” 

At that, Emily let out an almost animalistic growl. She roughly grabbed your waist, sliding back in the chair and pulling you onto her thigh. What you couldn’t see underneath her robe previously was a silicone grinder, a small oval pad with various bumps and ridges on it that was strapped to her thigh. Emily immediately forced your hips down and back and forth, which made you very aware of how these bumps felt against your clit. 

“Ride me, babygirl.” 

Your hands shot out to Emily’s shoulders as your hips started moving back and forth. You could feel the silicone ridges through your panties, which were already soaked. The feel of the fabric and the texture of the bumpy silicone was already driving you a little crazy. It was causing just enough pressure to rile you up, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to cum just from this. 

Emily sat back, her hands moving towards your knees, rubbing the skin there. “Look at you. You’ve been here less than ten minutes and you’re already desperate to cum.” She caught your wild, wide eyes. “Such a whore for me and I’ve barely touched you.” 

The moan you let out was desperate, echoing how you were already feeling. “Please, Em,” you said, gripping her hair in your hand, tilting her head back so you could meet her lips in a frenzied kiss. Your tongue brushed over hers, tasting the wine she’d had when she got home from work and something that was just Emily. 

She pulled back, a little breathlessly, stopping the frantic movements of your hips. “Off, baby. Take off the lingerie.” 

You were panting, not wanting to stop your movements. But the idea of the silicone rubbing directly against your wet, swollen clit was more than enough to get you to get up. You basically tore the lingerie off, not caring where it ended up on the floor. Before she could even say anything else, you were taking Emily’s robe off, too, wanting to see what she had on underneath it. 

As you slid the robe from her shoulders, your breath caught again. Emily was wearing a matching deep red lace set of bra and panties. You caught her eyes again as your pussy remade contact with the silicone strapped to her strong thigh. “You’re beautiful, you know,” you said, your hands resting lightly on the exposed skin of her chest right above her breasts. 

She smiled lightly, her hands making their way back to your now unclothed body. “You are too, pretty girl. And you’re going to be even more beautiful when you cum for me over and over and over again.” Her hands circled your waist, each hand grabbing at your ass. “Now move.” 

Your hips immediately began a brutal pace, the feeling of the ridges and lumps of the silicone feeling much more intense after taking off your panties. Each movement forward and backward dragged your clit against them, creating the most delicious friction that was rubbing against you in just the right ways. With each movement, you were pushed that much closer to tumbling over the edge, the familiar tightening in your lower belly telling you that you were close.

“Look at you, how you’re dripping for me. You’re already so close.” Emily’s hands traveled up your body, her thumbs brushing across your hardened nipples. As her fingers began pulling on them, she growled out, “now be a good little slut and cum for me, baby.” 

The fact that Emily already knew how to push you closer to cumming, the way she knew how to touch you, the way her voice had deepened, becoming almost gravelly, you couldn’t help but follow her directions. Your head tilted back, your spine arching towards her, as you moaned loudly, “fuck, mommy!”  

You continued to ride Emily’s thigh through your first orgasm, feeling your juices spread over the silicone toy. As you came down from the high, you realized what you said and embarrassingly brought your head back up and looked at Emily. 

Emily’s eyes had dilated to the point where there was no color left in them, her chest heaving with quick breaths. “What did you just call me?” 

Your eyes shifted to the side, not wanting to meet hers. You cleared your throat a little, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. “Mommy.” 

Emily brought her body flush against yours, the lace of her bra brushing against your breasts. Her hand captured your chin, forcing you to look at her. “That’s right, little girl.” Her thumb brushed against your lips, pulling it from between your teeth. “Now you better scream that every single time you cum for me tonight, understood?” 

You took Emily’s thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it briefly before sucking on it. “Yes, mommy.” 

Emily trailed her now slick thumb down the column of your throat, watching as you swallowed with the movement. You watched as it trailed between your breasts, down your belly, before moving towards your hip. Emily took one more glance at you before pulling you harder against her, her hands under your thighs as she lifted you up, your legs immediately coming around her waist. 

She carried you a small distance to the bed, laying you down against it before hovering over you. “Arms up and legs spread, love.” 

You put your arms up and Emily immediately strapped them down to the ties she already had on the bed. She made sure they were tight enough that you couldn’t move much, but not tight enough to hurt you. When she was done with your hands, she grabbed each of your knees and placed them in similar ties. But, she didn’t strap them to the bottom of the bed. Instead, she bent your knees, and tied them to the top of the bed as well. In this position, your knees were almost flush with your chest and your thighs were spread open to an almost uncomfortable stretch. It left you completely and utterly exposed, the cool air of the room spreading goosebumps across your skin. 

“You look so pretty all tied down and spread open for me, baby,” Emily said, kneeling between your spread legs, trailing her hands over your body. 

You could feel yourself flushing under her intense gaze, your breath panting. 

As Emily’s hands made their way down your body, your hips tried to buck up into them, trying to get them to move further down. “Please, Em, touch me,” you whined. 

Emily lowly chuckled, “I am touching you, sweetheart.” Her hands skimmed across your thighs, dangerously close to your aching center. “But if you want something specific, you just have to ask.” 

Your earlier orgasm did nothing to dwindle the heat spreading through your core; you needed desperately to cum again. “Your tongue, your fingers, it doesn’t matter, Emily. Just fuck me,” you breathed out. 

You watched as Emily inhaled deeply, her eyes lazily trailing over your exposed cunt, almost as if deciding how she wanted to take you next. You almost pleaded that she could fuck you over and over if she was undecided, but before you could, Emily’s tongue made contact with your sodden folds and you lost the breath in your lungs. 

You struggled in your ties with each tortuously slow pass of Emily’s tongue over your lower lips. Each pass got closer and closer to both your entrance and your clit, but never made contact. Emily alternated between fast and slow motions, flattening her tongue before rolling it into a point. The constant changing of pace was driving you crazy, it only riled you up without getting you there.  

You could feel your wetness seeping out of you, slowly dripping down your backside and pooling on the sheets beneath. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before and you were sure it was only going to get worse as Emily continued to play with you. 

After what seemed like a tortuous few minutes, Emily’s tongue finally made contact with your swollen nub, zeroing in on the patterns that drove you craziest. Little flicks of her tongue had you gasping, fast circles had you trying to buck your hips even in your confined pose.

Each pass of her tongue pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the coil expanding in your belly ready to burst. You whispered a quiet ‘please, please please’ under your breath, but it caught Emily’s attention, her eyes flicking up to you. 

“Cum all over my mouth, pretty girl, so I can finally fuck you with my cock,” she said, her tongue immediately going back to your clit. Emily brought two fingers up under her chin, thrusting inside of you without any warning. 

That’s all it took for you to come undone, your entire body tensing as wave after wave rushed through you. But you didn’t have an opportunity to come down from your high, as Emily continued to thrust her fingers inside of you. 

“One more for me, baby. Wanna make sure your pretty pussy is nice and ready for me.” 

You almost sobbed in oversensitivity, but Emily switched to pulsating her fingers inside of you, her tongue lightly tracing your outer lips. It was enough delicious friction to keep you from coming down from your last orgasm, but enough to not make it painfully sensitive to where you wanted to stop. 

For the first time sleeping together, Emily was already quickly becoming a master of your body. It only took a few more seconds of Emily’s tongue wrapped around your clit, and a hand tugging at your turgid nipples for you to cum again. 

Emily lazily lapped at you, drinking down everything you had to give. As you caught your breath, you started giggling under your breath. 

Emily’s hands traveled up your body, slowly untying you, massaging your limbs to restore blood flow. “What’s so funny, hm?” She asked, mirth in her eyes.

“If I had known talking about sex would’ve gotten me in this position, I would’ve done it on my first day with the BAU,” you said smiling, trying to catch your breath. 

Emily smirked back at you, placing small kisses all over your body as you calmed down. “If I had known all I had to do to have you in my bed was mention getting laid, I would’ve done it much sooner.” 

You trailed your hand down, gripping Emily’s chin in your hand. Catching her gaze, you quirked an eyebrow in question. 

Emily rolled her eyes at you. “Yes, I’ve wanted you in my bed since you started the team. Can you blame me? Look at you,” she said, her eyes traversing over your skin. 

You felt your body flush in nervous excitement, unbelieving that your very capable, very hot boss harbored the same feelings you did. 

Before you could question her further, Emily sat back on her heels, her hands rubbing soothing circles over your knees. “Are you feeling okay? Do you want to take a break?” 

You smiled, finding it adorable that she was always looking out for you. But it wasn’t necessary. “I was promised to cum on your cock, was I not?” You smirked at her. You had a feeling that the dirty talk was to Emily as the pet names were to you. 

Emily pinched your hip, rolling off of the bed before disappearing into her closet. “Lose the attitude before I come back or I’ll fuck it out of you, angel,” she tossed over her shoulder, missing the way your entire body shivered in anticipation. You hoped this was just the beginning of exploring each other's bodies. 

When Emily came out of the closet, you had to stop yourself from drooling. Attached to her hips was a decently sized cock, a dark purple shade that wasn’t too silly looking. Emily was already a confident person, but something about the added appendage gave her extra swagger. She looked comfortable in it, experienced. You couldn’t wait to see how she took it out on you. 

“Hands and knees, pretty girl.” 

You rolled over without having to be asked twice. It was one of your favorite positions to be fucked in, the depth of which you could feel the fake phallus almost always took your breath away and left you trembling. 

In your admiration of how Emily looked packing, you missed all of the other goodies she was carrying in her hands. You felt the bed dip behind you, Emily’s hands spreading your thighs apart, leaving your pussy exposed to the cool air of the room. 

“You look so pretty like this, waiting for me. You were wet before, but now you’re absolutely dripping down your thighs.” 

A swift smack to the outer aspect of your ass left you bucking into the air, trying to feel Emily’s strap behind you. Her hands massaged the rounded globes of your ass, feeling the muscles beneath her hands quiver. “How do you feel about plugs?” She asked, pulling apart your cheeks to watch the way your entire lower half clenched in anticipation. 

Emily lowly chuckled, “Mh, seems like that’s a yes, but I need verbal consent, baby.” One of her hands drifted down, gathering your abundant wetness, before slicking some back up to your puckered hole, smearing it around the outside. 

Your breath was already coming in fast pants and you could feel the way the blood was rushing south. Your skin felt electric, buzzing, as if every hair was standing straight up in attention. You took a deep, steadying breath, pulling air in through your nose before exhaling slowly through your mouth. “Please, Em, put it inside me and then fuck me,” you breathed. “Wanna be so full of you,” you whined, pushing your hips back at her. 

Emily gripped your hips harder, whimpering at how much that turned her on. How much you turned her on. She grabbed the plug from beside her on the bed, rubbing it between your legs to gather your wetness. You had to stop yourself from thrusting against it, the pressure only minimal on your clit. 

Emily trailed the plug up, watching as you arched your back, exposing more of you to her. She had to take a second to compose herself, not wanting to hurt you. Slowly, she inched the plug inside of you, watching as your body expanded and contracted taking it in. 

Once it was fully inside, you had to take multiple shuddering breaths as Emily rubbed your hips. You’ve used plugs before, but with the way Emily commanded your body, you were at a pleasure you’ve never been at before. 

“Look at you, so pretty for me,” Emily said, bending over and placing small kisses around your ass, letting you adjust to the pressure of it inside you. “I can’t wait to watch and listen to you cum for me.” 

The whine you let out was almost pathetic; you could hear the desperation in your voice. “Please, Em, fuck me now.” Your legs spread a little more, opening you up further. The pleasure was already so intense that your upper body collapsed against the bed. 

You could feel Emily move a little behind you. She trailed the head of the strap along your lower lips, lubricating it with your own wetness, watching you tremble each time it passed over your clit. Emily looked down, the shininess of the cock making her almost whine, before leaning down and spitting on it to further lubricate it. She used her hand to rub up and down, making sure it was well coated before lining it up with your entrance. “Ready, baby?” 

“Fuck me, mommy, now.”

Emily didn’t hesitate, thrusting into you slowly, but with the confidence and force you needed. The cock dragged along your inner walls, but also against the plug that was nestled inside. The pressure was enough to have you clawing at the sheets for some sort of relief, not that you wanted to get away from how good it felt. It was simultaneously everything and not enough. 

Emily, still able to read you like a book, started moving faster, her thrusts shallow, allowing you to feel each ridge and bump of the silicone cock inside of you. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” she moaned. 

There was something about hearing Emily moan, whimper, and whine for you. Her voice had gotten more intense, gravelly, and you wanted it to wrap around you so you could melt into it. 

You started to thrust back against her, wanting it harder and deeper and more. You pushed up onto your hands, feeling the way each thrust made your breasts bounce back and forth. You couldn’t help any of the noises that were tumbling from your lips, your body just sinking into the buzz of pleasure and riding the waves. Again, you could feel the pressure building up inside you, like flames ready to explode. 

Emily’s hand made its way into your hair, grabbing a handful and yanking you upwards. Your back now pressed against her front, you could feel her rapid breathing and hardened nipples at your back, only fueling the fire inside you more. Her thrusts never slowed down, but managed to hit a deeper spot inside you. 

“Fuck, I can feel you squeezin’ around my cock, baby.” A few more deep thrusts and you knew you were going to cum hard. 

Not wanting to disappoint Emily, you started to thrust back harder, trying to get her deeper inside you. Knowing you needed a little more, one of her hands traversed down your front, quickly finding your hardened nub and started rubbing fast circles in time with her thrusts. Her other hand went the opposite direction, sliding around your throat, gripping it tightly sending you into another harsh wave of euphoria. 

Emily’s lips made home on the side of your neck, licking and sucking, tasting the salty sweat that had accumulated there. “Be a good girl for mommy and cum for me, now.” 

Your entire body seized, a loud moan spewed from your mouth, continuing with each little drive of Emily’s hips against yours as she fucked you through the orgasm. Unable to hold yourself up, Emily lowered you gently to the bed, her hips slowing to a stop. She smoothed your hair away from your face, her breath coming out in puffs helping to cool you off some. 

Emily went to pull out of you, but the whine of protest left before she was even half way out. “Oh? What’s that, babygirl?” 

You tried to glance back at her, your eyes barely catching before you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I want you to cum inside me, Em.” You wiggled your hips back a little more, moaning as her cock went back inside your pulsating cunt. “Make me cum one more time, please,” you almost begged. 

“Fucking hell,” she whimpered, starting to slowly thrust into you again. Your body had had enough time to settle that you knew you could cum again, but you knew it was going to drain you. 

Laying down like you were, the pressure of both her cock and the plug inside you was even more pronounced. You tried to angle your hips up, tried to lift a leg and bend a knee to switch up the position, but you weren’t sure it was enough. You needed something different. 

Almost as if she was inside your head, Emily pulled out. Before you could protest much, she rolled over and dragged you on top of her. She helped you line up your cunt with her cock, and she moaned at watching you sink back down on it. 

You weren’t sure if you had the energy to do all of the work bouncing up and down, so you rolled your hips back and forth, watching as Emily’s face contorted in pleasure. With each forward roll of your hips, Emily’s eyes almost rolled back, and that’s when you realized part of the cock was inside her and each move you made could be felt inside her as well. 

Knowing Emily had a thing for your dirty mouth, you knew this was your turn to get her off. “Look at me, Em. Look how deep you are inside me.” 

Emily’s blown pupils met yours, her lip caught between her teeth as she tried not to fuck into you, letting you run the show. 

“You look so good under me, Em. I bet you’d look even better if I was the one fucking you.” 

Emily’s nostrils flared, her hands shooting up to grab your hips as her feet planted firmly on the mattress. “Next time.” One of her hands moved to the base of the strap, holding it as you rutted against it. “For now, I want you to cum hard on mommy’s cock like the good little whore you are.” 

You whimpered out a quick, “yes, mommy,” before grinding harder against her. Before you could get too invested in your pace, Emily’s hand that had been holding the cock pressed the button that made the vibrations come to life. 

Your mouth opened wide, your eyes just as big, as you felt the pleasure run through your entire body. 

Emily smirked up at you, almost sadistically, before starting to thrust up at you from below. You could tell that she was just as close as you were, the way her hands were gripping tighter to your hips. Emily’s own hips were moving at almost a break-neck pace, brushing your front wall and clit with each thrust out, and going deeper than before on each thrust in. 

This time, the pressure coiled in your lower belly, expanding outwards to all of your extremities, before coiling its way back into your torso. The vibrations seemed to match your rapid heart beat, as if you could feel each pulsating buzz in every one of your cells. Your head was tossed back, trying not to break as wave after wave brushed through you. 

You only came back to Earth when you felt Emily’s fingers start to rub your clit in time with the vibrations. You glanced down at her, captivated by her look of utter primal need, like you were the only thing that mattered in this moment. 

“Together,” she said. 

Fireworks. Volcanic eruption. The explosion of stars. 

You felt your cunt clamp down on the cock inside of it, Emily trying to continue to fuck you through each swell of pleasure, the pressure finally releasing with a gush of wetness as your body trembled with Emily’s. 

As the euphoria left both of you, you lowered your body to Emily’s trying to quell the tremors that were wreaking havoc on your system. 

Emily’s hands came up, holding you to her, smoothing over your back. Her lips found their way to the side of your face, peppering little kisses on any part of you they could reach. “Such a good girl for me, baby.” She continued to whisper sweet nothings in your ear until you caught your breath. 

“Lets get cleaned up, hm? I’ll run us a bath?” 

You leaned up, catching her eyes. You could see all of the contentment and ecstasy in hers, but also the nervousness. As if you might leave any second. 

You smiled, leaning up to kiss her gently, trying to convey everything you were feeling. That this wasn’t a one time thing for you. That she wasn’t just a one off. “A bath sounds great.” 

Emily smiled back at you, twirling a piece of your hair with her fingers.  Now everyone including her was getting laid around here.

[momolady]

Florenz the Vampire Bat

An arranged marriage and a regal manor where sunlight cannot come in, sounds like it could be a nightmare. But it isn't, only in theory is this a bad situation for you to be in. The bite of reality is much better.

Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

From your window you can look down upon the village you once called home. At night, the windows twinkle and shine from the lights within each home. In total darkness it almost appears as if the sky has nestled upon the ground, gathering itself between the cracks and nooks of the rocky mountainside. You are supposed to be within those craggy pathways, walking yourself to the market to buy the children pears and treats for all their hard work. Instead, you are in Florescu castle with a new master.

Stepping away from the window, you let the heavy curtains fall back into place. The curtains are to always remain closed, so the castle is always in the bounds of night. You walked back towards your bed, crawling in to pull the covers up and fix the pillows back in place.

As you set things right, pillows and stuffed toys, the door opened and Ms. Nita stepped in. She saw you making the bed and she tutted like always.

“Now, now! My lady!” She came in and shooed you off the bed. “You need not be taking care of that anymore. I’m shocked you even do.” She smoothed her hand down the comforters and looked back at you with those strange wide eyes of hers’.

You looked aside with a small shrug. “I don’t mind making it.”

Ms. Nita sighed, placing her hands upon her hips as she turned towards you. “You do a fine enough job, but it’s my job you are doing. I promised our lord to take good care of you.”

A small scowl appeared on your face and Ms. Nita took hold of your chin. “I know that no girl is fond of an arranged marriage. But chin up my dear. It could be worse. There are worse houses than the Florescu house to marry into.”

You looked Ms. Nita in her slightly bulbous eyes and removed her hand. “It isn't the marriage.”

“Then what’s the sour puss look about?” Ms. Nita went over to your wardrobe and took out clothing for you.

The dress she picked was much finer than the one before. Somehow your wardrobe was a vast and endless sea of pretty dresses in delicate patterns and soft pastels. You crossed your arms along your chest, rubbing your palms along your bare skin. The castle wasn’t cold, in fact it was always perfectly warm. But you still got chills every morning when you would meet your new husband for breakfast.

“Come now. Get dressed and I’ll do your hair.” Ms. Nita was a peculiar sort of woman. She was extremely pale, short, and round. But she was a miracle worker with your hair. She was able to take the tight curls you grew and style it carefully with thought. She had been given the job of taking care of you in the castle. And while the official weddings had taken place, your new husband had other traditions e wished to follow before he considered you both completely wed.

Breakfast wasn’t held in the dining hall. Instead, you took it in your husband’s chambers. He had a large table set up before his fireplace, and Ms. Nita would serve you both then leave to let you two be alone.

That morning as you walked in, you noticed your new husband standing before the fireplace. He was wearing a bright blue robe with golden stars carefully stitched all over it.

Ms. Nita scoffed as she stepped in with the breakfast cart. “You aren’t even dressed, my lord.”

He turned from the fireplace and the robe fell from his right shoulder. The fire glowed about his dark fur, and one of his clawed hands rested upon the downy fluff of his chest. “I slept awful, Ms. Nita. How am I supposed to face my gorgeous bride when I have not had an ounce of beauty sleep-” He stopped dead when he saw you standing by the table.

He quickly lifted up his robe over his shoulder and a soft smile appeared on his face. “I am to be taken off guard apparently.”

“You didn’t sleep well, Forenz?” You asked and took your seat at the table.

Florenz’s dark eyes shifted around before he moved towards his chair. “I hope you rested well at the very least.”

Ms. Nita placed food upon the table, shaking her head slowly.

“I slept,” you answered plainly. You were keeping a cool front, but inside it felt like your soul was being ripped to shreds. Your chest was tight and your stomach was in knots.

Florenz had no clue as to how you felt. “That’s good. I am glad to hear such good news.” He smiled at Ms. Nita as she placed a solitary cup before him. Meanwhile you had small plates placed in front of you as well as a pot of tea.

Ms. Nita left the room and only the sound of the crackling fire was left.

Florenz picked up his cup and glanced inside. You picked at your food, too anxious to eat, but knowing you must perform or else he might catch on.

“I know technically it isn’t morning. At least, not from what you are used to.” Florenz murmured as he gazed into his cup. “It will get easier once you acclimate. I am sorry you have to do that too. But being what I am, I have no choice over my schedule.” He laughed then quickly shut himself up.

You looked up from your plate, seeing a yellow gleam to his eyes from the light of the fire. His bat-like appearance didn’t bother you, not like they thought it would. The village saw all sorts of creatures wandering through it. You had grown up seeing them hiding and staring from the rocks and behind trees, as well as walking along the same streets you did.

“Are you adjusting well?” Florenz asked. “I mean, I know you are used to a certain lifestyle, a certain affluence, and I am trying to provide that comfort to you.”

“What do you mean? You’re far richer than the Domitry family.” You quickly shut your mouth and cleared your throat.

Florenz nodded, looking back down into his cup. “Yes, well, even that can take some getting used to. But you’ve barely asked me for anything aside from art supplies. You don’t need to be afraid to ask me for anything.”

“I don’t need much,” you murmured.

Florenz sighed and leaned back into his chair. His robe once again fell away from his shoulder. “Don’t take this the wrong way, dear wife, but I had expected you to be much more spoiled than you are.”

You chewed slowly on a piece of meat then drank some tea to help you swallow more easily. “I suppose one would.”

Florenz chuckled. “I was not told you were an artist, mostly that you enjoyed fashion and having a large wardrobe.”

That explained one thing, you thought to yourself.

“I would have been better prepared had I been told more about you. But from what your father told me, I assumed you would be-” He hesitated and finally took a sip from his cup.

You set your cup down. “Vain? Lazy? You already said spoiled.”

Florenz looked at you surprised. “I did not want to make such harsh judgments. But I am sorry if that offends you.”

“Not really,” you shrugged.

Florenz’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose you get that a lot?”

You sighed. “I’ve thought the same things.”

“I suppose you’re trying to…distance yourself from that sort of image. Correct?” His soft smile returned. “Because I think you are doing quite well.”

“Thank you.” You really weren’t sure how to respond.

Florenz took another drink from his glass. “Do you have plans today? I suppose you’ll be going back to your art.”

“I will be. Do you have business to take care of today?” You pushed yourself away from the table and smoothed your hand down your skirt.

“Unfortunately I do. There is much to take care of before the full moon. I want to make sure once it is here I will be able to have the time to spend with you.” He stood with his glass and walked over to you. He extended his clawed hand to help you rise from your chair.

If there had to be one thing you appreciated about your new husband, it was how tall he was. Back home in the village, you took after your father, who moved to the village when he was young. Most of the village, like your mother, was on the shorter side. You often stuck out like a sore thumb. Florenz’s height was nice to stand next to.

“Not much longer now. I suppose you are nervous.” Florenz opened the door for you.

He had no idea. “A little,” you lied.

Florenz smiled and you could see the sharp fangs in his mouth. “I too get butterflies. But there is nothing to worry about. I think you and I have a beautiful future together.”

You nodded. “I hope so.”

Florenz lifted your hand and dipped down to kiss the knuckles. His tail under his robe swished back and forth. “Have a good day, my wife.”

“You as well.” You waited until the doors were closed and then you let your body sag and slouch. You clutched your chest as you walked down the hallway. Everyday you felt he was closer to figuring it out.

Once you were back in your room you sat and cried for a spell. Once it felt the weight in your chest was relieved you took deep breaths. You missed your family, you missed your home, and you were angry about being placed here.

You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t even the right girl.

The door opened and you turned to see Ms. Nita with a glass of water. You tried to return to your formal posture, but it felt impossible.

“I can’t keep it up,” you whispered.

Ms. Nita handed you the water. “Keep what up?”

The glass was cold in your hands, it felt nice after all the tightness and fear you held during breakfast. “I can’t tell you.”

Ms. Nita flitted about the bedroom, checking for dust while also taking out another outfit for you to wear while you worked on your artwork. “You said the marriage didn’t bother you. Then what is it? The hours? The altitude? Trust me, you will grow used to both.”

“I really can’t say.”

Ms. Nita stood and put her hands upon her round hips. “If you cannot say, then perhaps I can guess.” She pulled up another chair and sat before you. She looked you over with a very studious gaze that made you feel uneasy.

“Making your bed every morning has never settled right with me. Girls from wealthy families like yours barely know how to wipe their noses, let alone tuck a sheet properly.” her large eyes kept gliding over you. “You’re very modest for a rich girl as well. You seemed shocked by your clothing.” She folded her arms against her chest. “Are you rich?”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“You aren’t, are you?” Ms. Nita whispered.

You looked at her with fear.

Ms. Nita sighed. “Oh dear. Oh, dear, dear, dear.” She clicked her tongue then held her jaw tight. “That foolish old mule pulled a grand switch didn’t he?. So what are you? A maid? A cook?”

“I was a governess to his younger children,” you admitted weakly. “But please. You can’t tell Master Florescu. Lord Domitry promised to give my mother money. My little sister is sick-”

Ms. Nita raised her hand. “Why did Domitry do it?”

You sniffled. “His daughter refused. She destroyed his office in a fit, and since we both looked similar he thought-” Your throat tightened up as you spoke.

She sighed. “That sounds like the real bride we were told about. Can’t say I’m surprised.” Ms. Nita stood up from her seat. “Lord Florenz deserves to know the truth of the matter.”

“No! Please!” You jumped to stand. “If he finds out, then Lord Domitry will stop providing money to my family. I won’t have a job anymore! My family relies on me.”

Ms. Nita gave you a cold look. “My master has been lied to. He’s been deceived. He was promised a bride.”

“And I am!” You exclaimed. “I am his bride. He would be happy with the one he was told, but he does have a bride as promised.”

Ms. Nita huffed. “Do you really think this would be the end of you if he found out? Domitry has made you a pawn, a victim. He used you to make a laughing stock out of Florenz. I have raised that man since he was a child. I raised his mother before him. The Florescu family is my family.” She jabbed her finger into your face.

“It guts me to think Florenz is in the dark. He’s no idiot, but he can be a fool.” She grumbled.

“I have not met a kind man with money,” you murmured.

Ms. Nita nodded. “I suppose you haven’t. Well, if Florenz is cruel, then I will deal with him.” She took your hand and patted it. “You have nothing to fear. Ms. Nita runs this estate more than young Florenz thinks.” She grabbed your hand and had you follow her back towards Florenz’s chambers.

She forced her way inside, no knock, no warning of your arrival. She strode in with confidence while you floundered behind her.

Florenz was getting dressed. He had on pants but his top half was bare. He squeaks as you both came in and he crossed his arms against his broad chest.

“Ms. Nita, what are you doing?!” He snapped.

“I have figured out a plot!” Ms. Nita raised up her arm, still clutchingyour hand.

You and Florenz looked at one another and his gaze went soft. “My dear, have you been crying?”

“Not the plot!” Ms. Nita snapped. She let go of your hand and paced around in front of Florenz. “I have discovered that Lord Domitry has played you for a fool!”

Florenz was still looked at you with concern, like he wanted to approach but his own partial nudity was making him embarrassed. “What?” he looked back down. “What was that, Ms. Nita?”

“Focus!” She snapped her fingers. “Look at her.” She waved her hands towards you. “Take her in. Think about all you know about her. I want you to think hard, Florenz. What about her stands out?”

You wait anxiously, folding your hands together and standing stiff as Florenz looks at you. His gaze is soft. Confused, but very much affectionate. His ears fold back as a shy smile appears.

“A lot of things. I’m very fond of my wife.”

Your heart isn’t sure in which direction it should go, and neither did you.

Ms. Nita scoffed. “No! She’s not a Domitry.”

Florenz’s eyes widened. He looked from you, to Ms. Nita, and back to you. “No! What? Come on now, Ms. Nita. No! Darling, what is she going on about?”

“She’s not a Domitry,” Ms. Nita repeated. “She worked for them.”

His whole body stiffened and the wings upon his back fluttered. Florenz looked at you again, eyes widened as he began to realize. “Oh,” he breathed “Oh!” He exclaimed.

Tears began to well up in your eyes.  “I’m so sorry.”

Florenz took a few steps forward, a serious look upon his face. “So it’s true? Domitry pulled a grand switch on me.”

“That’s right.”

“Well,” Florenz muttered. “That's good then!”

Tears fell down your cheeks as Florenz approached you and placed his hand upon your shoulder. “I am much happier with you. But I do still have Domitry to deal with.”

You weren’t sure what to think.

“What do you plan on doing?” Ms. Nita asked. “Both with this girl and the Domitry family?”

“She’s my wife,” Florenz corrected. “I will be her husband and protect her. As for Domitry, this marriage was supposed to end the feud between our families. But I suppose, if he wants to play me for the fool, then he will live with the consequences.” He walked across the room and pulled on his robe again to cover himself.

You watched him in awe, still barely taking in his words. Florenz handed Ms. Nita a sealed document, which she took and gave him a nod.

“Send that directly to Domitry, he will know what it means.” Florenz placed his hand upon your back, turning you towards him as Ms. Nita left the room.

You were shaking, afraid of what would happen next.

Florenz cupped his hands around her face. “What do we need to do?” He asked. “You must have family back in the village. Should we bring them here for safe keeping? Perhaps once Domitry is dealt with, they can have his house. After all, I’d like us to be alone for the full moon.”

“What?” You voice shook.

Florenz smiled on you. “I may have been fooled into marrying you, but I do not regret it. I find myself falling for you.”

You had been so terrified of your secret getting out, you had barely had a chance to think of your own feelings for him. You sniffled, falling into his arms to cry with relief.

“It’s alright, my dear. I will take care of you, no matter what.” he sat with you upon his bed, stroking your back until you calmed. You fell asleep in his arms and woke up tucked into bed.

Across the room you saw him sitting at his table, looking over a stack of documents and an open tome. His ear twitched as you moved the blankets and he turned in your direction. He stood from the table and approached you.

“I hope you rested well,” he said gently.

You rubbed your eyes. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Hush now. You’re my wife, what’s mine is yours.” He placed a soft kiss upon your forehead.

“I’m so sorry-” You tried to apologize but he tapped a claw over your lips.

“You were forced into a corner. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner.” He smoothed his palm up your cheek and tucked back loose curls.

“No, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” you murmured.

Florenz nodded. “Well, now that I am aware, let’s start back at the beginning.” He cupped your cheek in his palm. “I want to know you, the real you.”

You smiled brightly. “What do you want to know?”

“Your name might be nice.”

You chuckled, giving him your name.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “It suits you much better.” He snuggled with you upon the bed. “Now, do you really like clothes so much?”

“Not really,” you chuckled. “As silly as it is, I like stuffed toys.”

Florenz’s fangs showed as he smiled. “That’s much more interesting.”

////

Without the constant stress of being found out lingering over your head, you’ve been able to enjoy life at the castle much better. Especially since your sister is getting the care she needs. Once he knew the story, Florenz was happy to take care of everything. Even as the full moon ceremony loomed, he worked to take care of the troubles caused by Domitry.

“It won’t be the first time a Florenz marries someone outside their station,” Florenz told you.

You looked up from your easel, having set it up beside him at his work table. “What do you mean?”

Florenz’s large ears twitched back. “Ah, well you see, My great-great-grandfather fell in love with his cook. So he turned her into a duchess. Made all sorts of stories for her, turned her into quite the gem. Then my grandfather took after him and married my grandmother who had been a practicing nun.”

“A nun?” You giggled.

“Oh yes. She had come from a more esteemed family, but after they came to ruin she came to god until grandfather stepped into the picture.” Florenz turned back to his work. "I still make donations to the convent regularly.”

You smiled softly as you continued to work on your canvas. “And now, you’re going for a governess.”

Florenz sat still with a deep look of thought upon his face. “I would describe you more as an artist than a governess. But luckily, our story has a funny twist to it like the others.” He smiled at you, trapping you in a gazefor a long moment.

You grew shy the longer he stared. You smiled,  and felt your face grow warmer. A nervous laugh then bubbled up. “What?”

“Just looking at you, my dear. I’m thinking about how lucky I am to actually like the person I am with.” His smile turned dreamy. “My parents were never fond of one another, so I always looked at my grandparents as inspiration.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you murmured.

Floren shrugged. “Yes, well, I think it all stemmed from the fact my parents were more inclined to their own. They had me and I think that’s the last time they shared a room.”

“Oh, I see.” You said softly.

Florenz’s ears twitched again. He looked up from his work, checking on you from the corner of his eye. “Do you think you’d prefer separate rooms when the full moon is over?”

You furrowed your brow. “What do you mean?”

Florenz glanced over at his bed. “Nothing. Ignore me and my babbling.”

You set your things aside and took off your apron, draping it over your chair. You then approached Florenz and placed your hand upon his shoulder. He twitched slightly, glancing down at your hand then looking back at his work.

“Are you worried I won’t want to sleep beside you?” You leaned down closer to him, slipping your arms around his neck. “Because I’ve thought about it.”

Florenz’s body went stiff and still. “You have?”

“Have you?” You spoke close to his ear which fell flat onto his head.

He turned to look at you and shrugged. “I would be a liar if I said I hadn’t. Especially considering how nervous I am for the full moon.”

“Then tell me about it.” You hugged him from behind. “I want to know.”

Florenz tapped your arms and he began to rise from his chair. You stood aside to let him up, wondering what he was going to do.

Florenz held out his clawed hand. “I’ll show you something.”

Taking his hand, he then led you through the castle, taking you further up than you had been before. You went into one of the towers, going all the way up the spiral staircase and through the door in the ceiling. Florenz let you up first and you stood in a room where the ceiling was entirely glass. The night sky was directly above you and the nearly full moon was so close you felt you could touch it!

“This is where we will start the ceremony,” Florenz murmured. He then motioned over to a massive bed in the back of the room that was covered by sapphire blue curtains. “We will spend all night there, and in the morning we will fall asleep there.”

This bit of news stunned you. “Isn’t that dangerous for you?”

Florenz waved his hand up to the glass. “During the night, this glass is clear. But during the day it will turn dark. An old family secret,” he chuckled.

“That’s amazing.”

Florenz walked over to the bed as you marveled at the night sky. He pulled back the curtains and stared inside. “I’m nervous about…being good enough.”

You looked back him. “Good enough at what?”

Florenz’s tail twitched behind him while his ears went flat against his head. “Being a husband is one thing,” he murmured. “But being your lover is something completely different. I have studied, and I have read up on the art. But studying and doing are two completely different beasts.”

You placed your hand upon his back and he shivered all over. Glancing down at you he saw the shy little smile upon your face.

He sighed. “I do not want the full moon to go to waste.”

“I have an idea,” you stepped closer to him. “What if we…practiced?”

His ears stood up.

“Is it against the rules? Because…I’m nervous too. But I don’t want you to be terrified and worrying on the important night.”

Florenz swallowed. “I suppose it’s not entirely against the rules.” He looked down at you. “I would call myself a hands-on learner anyways.”

A few nervous butterflies fluttered around in your tummy. “Then, maybe we could just…I don’t know, maybe just try a few things tonight?”

Florenz took in a deep breath and nodded. He extended out his arms and his robe fell from around his shoulders. “If you would like to, I am more than willing.”

You began pulling at the strings of your blouse, letting it fall open enough that Florenz could see the curve of your breasts. His robe fell upon the floor and he stretched his wings out a bit. His eyes focused upon you, seeing bits of you he had yet to spy.

“Let me help you.” He reached out, helping you remove your clothing. He did well with buttons, and as your skirt fell upon the floor he took a step back from you. Moonlight shown through your blouse and he could see the shape of you through the thin fabric.

Florenz cleared his throat and sat himself down upon the bed. He rubbed his hands over the tops of his thighs. Coming up closer to him, you slowly eased down upon his lap. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close and causing you to straddle his lap. You both shifted and laughed anxiously. Looking into one another's' eyes you grew silent again.

Florenz took the first kiss, plunging in as his hands grasped around your back. You leaned in, furthering the kiss as your hands went through the soft plumage of fur upon his broad chest. You sighed as your lips parted, and Florenz’s hands moved lower.

“Not so bad, huh?” he chuckled softly.

You shook your head. “I liked it.” You looked down at his chest, his dark fur turned pale in the center, leading a trail down his belly and into his pants. Your fingers traced the rim of his pants and Florenz shivered,

“Maybe we should…get fully naked,” you suggested with a crack to your voice. “Just to…” Your mind drifted.

“Yeah,” his voice fluttered. His hands went up under your blouse, touching bare skin. His lidded eyes glazed as he slightly pulled it up, glimpsing the bare bottom of your breasts. His hands dropped back down and he held back a smile as best he could.

“Okay, okay,” he breathed. “I can do this.” He moved you onto the bed so he could stand. He fumbled with his pants, losing grip a few times before he could get them loose. He tugged them down, keeping himself huddled over while your eyes were upon him.

You removed your blouse, sitting there naked with your arms crossed against your chest. You watched him rise up, standing his full height with his head partially hidden by the canopy. Your eyes traveled down his chest, his belly, down to the shadow against his groin.

“Dear,” he whispered.

You looked up as he knelt down to join you on the bed. You smiled to reassure him and lowered your head a bit.

“Are you cold?” He chuckled.

“A little.”

Florenz reached out, wrapping his arms around you. “Then let me warm you back up. It must be chilly without your clothes.”

You moved your arms, holding him as he held you. Two bare bodies pressed against one another. His fur was soft, and his body felt warm and strong.

“You’re so tender,” Florenz murmured. “So supple.”

Your cheeks burned. “Thank you.”

Florenz’s grip tightened around you and he buried his face into the curve of your neck. You whimpered softly as his cool breath beat upon your skin. You stroked your hand up the back of his neck and moved the other around his waist.

“Florenz,” you whispered.

He lifted his head, looking deep into your eyes. He cupped his hand around your cheek as his breathing began to even. “I was hoping this would help my nerves. But it feels as though it has only added to them.” He looked down your body with a look of lust. “Now I worry I will have no control over myself.”

You bit your lip. “How so?”

“I will turn into a beast.” His finger trailed down your neck, onto your chest, then glided between your breasts. “I will feast upon your body, and never quite satisfy my hunger for it.” His eyes flicked back to yours. “For you.”

You swallowed and remembered to breathe. “That doesn’t sound all that bad.”

“But it is. I do not know what I am capable of. Only that I now have the drive to do it.” He brushed his knuckles against your breast, eliciting a stuck breath in your chest. He laid you down upon the bed, stroking his hands down your body until he came to your thighs. He opened them with a gentle touch, moving his palms down your soft skin.

Florenz moaned to himself, licking down your supple thigh and rising back up with kisses upon it. He looked back into your eyes, staring up helplessly from the bed. His long tongue lapped over your skin again.

“Do you mind if I taste you, my dear?” He breathed.

You shook your head. “Go ahead.”

His mouth opened wide along your thigh, revealing his sharp fangs and teeth. He bit into the soft flesh, which only hurt for a moment. Then it turned into warmth and soft tingling. His mouth was pressed against you, tasting your blood as it beaded from the bite mark.

Florenz moaned, his body arching and writhing as he drank. He lifted his head from your thigh, pressing more kisses before he took another bite, much lower than the first. He moaned again, and those vibrations against you traveled up your body.

He licked his lips, letting out a shuddering breath. “Sweet is the nectar, but how is your wine?” He reached down, pulling open your plump mound to see inside. Wetness has gathered around the lips, and has given you a delicate glaze.

“You’ve become just as aroused as I have.” Florenz licked the corner of his mouth.

You shivered, watching his eyes then lookin down.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He breathed.

You swallowed again and nodded. “Yes.”

He looked into your eyes. “I didn’t hear that, my dear. Do you mind saying it again for me? Much louder this time.”

You gathered up your courage, hoping your voice didn’t break as you tried to speak. “Please touch me. I don’t know why, but your bites, they-” Your couldn’t bring yourself to say the words.

“Did you like that?” Florenz lowered down again. He kissed your breast, suckling it before trailing kisses down your belly. “I’ve never tasted anything as delicious as you.” He used his knuckles to open you, careful of his claws to not scrape your skin. His knuckle rubbed against the top of your folds. You writhed a bit, whimpering loudly at the touch.

“You appear to be quite sensitive, my dear.” Florenz sat back up and took a breath. “I appear to be getting drunk upon it.”

You swallowed again, trying to catch your breath. “It’s okay. I suggested we…that we do this.”

Florenz laughed softly. “I did not expect it to go so well. So temptingly.”

You stroked your hand down your body, making sure he saw. His eyes followed your fingers, watching them as you began to touch yourself. He focused intently while you circled around your clit, dipping your fingers inside before returning.

He spread his thighs, showing you what hung between them. His cock bobbed heavily in the shadows, a deep, dark red with purple veins. The head of it flared slightly, and the base tapered into a slight bulge at the base. He took the shaft into his hand, stroking slowly as he watched your fingers.

You then opened your arms beckoning him to come close to you.  His eyes widened, slightly glowing in the dark. He lowered himself down upon you, kissing you and embracing you as your bodies pressed together.

You stretched out your neck, letting Florenz bury his face there. Another bite and you moaned loudly, arching your back as Florenz grabbed tighter around you. Your bodies pressed tight together as he bit again. You gasped for breath, shuddering as his claws sank into your rear, angling you closer, mounting himself at the ready.

A quick pulse was all it took. A snake in your ear, a fluttering of your lids, and you and Florenz were inseparable. You stayed still, both quivering and aching for the next move, but savoring that first, sweet moment for as long as possible.

“You’re so warm,” his voice quaked. “I’ve never felt this-”

You held on tight to him, aching slightly from him being inside you. But it was a good sort of pain, just like when he bit you. “Keep going,” you urged. “It’s…it’s good.”

Florenz moved shakily, unsure at first. He took his time, finding himself a bit more confident as it felt better. The more fluid he moved, the more you felt as well. He fit snug inside you, so you were able to feel every inch of him. You closed your eyes, focusing on that pleasure as he pressed into you. He went deep, then stayed shallow, just to test what felt best.

He went still again, holding his breath.

“What is it?” You whimpered.

“I’ll come if I’m not careful,” he whispered. “I want to keep enjoying this.”

You stroked your hand down his back. “Can you only do it once in your whole life?”

“No. That’s not-” He chuckled. “I can do it many, many times.”

You smiled. “Then do it again when you are done.”

His eyes widened. “But…I thought this was just practice?”

You pulled him down close, kissing him until you felt a shudder inside. His mouth hung open, and he pulled out, releasing upon your thigh and belly. His body grew limp, and the expression on his face was more cute than erotic.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll clean that up.” He took his pants, using them to mop up his mess. He then touched your loins, seeing them swollen with arousal. “What do I need to do now?”

“Touch me.” You wriggled your hips.

He rubbed his knuckle to your clit again, gently nudging it as he watched your wetness seep down onto the sheets. His eyes lidded watching and he lowered down, kissing and licking softly. You whimpered out loudly, panting deeply as the kisses grew harder. He suckled upon you, moaning softly as your thighs closed around his head. You trembled, arching slightly then pushing him away.

You fell back, breathing hard as Florenz wiped his mouth. “Was that…good?”

You nodded, covering your head with your arms.

Florenz rolled you onto your back again and smiled down upon you. “I’m glad we practiced.”

“Me too,” you breathed. “Now…you won’t be so nervous on the full moon.”

He kissed your breasts and then your lips. “Can we practice again before then?”

You giggled. “Maybe.”

Florenz laid down beside you, wrapping his wing around you to cover you. “At least…could I taste you again?”

You smiled shyly at him. “Did I really taste good?”

“You tasted amazing.” he nuzzled into the curve of your neck again. “So warm and soft upon my tongue. Your blood was like velvet.”

You sighed dreamily as he pressed closer. “That sounds nice.”

“Because it’s yours.” He kissed your neck and then nuzzled to your hair. “Because it’s you, I want you.”

“It was…good wasn’t it?” You said shyly. “Being entwined like that felt better than I expected. I had been told my first time would be painful. But you…even your bites felt good to me. But when you were inside me…I was shocked by how much I liked it.”

Florenz smiled proudly. “It was an experience. So wet and sweet,” he breathed. “So warm and…and deep.” he swallowed. “I need to be careful.”

“Is something wrong?” You asked.

He nodded then shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He laid back down beside you. “Now that my nerves are gone, I suppose I am a bit more excitable.”

You smiled. “I see.” Rolling over you curled up against his body. “I uhm…I wouldn’t mind if you got excited again. I mean, what else have we to do today anyways?”

“Nothing I suppose.” he gave you a soft delicate kiss. “We should be careful though. I would hate for Ms. Nita to come looking for us and find us in the middle of practicing.”

You giggled and placed your arms around him. “Then let's close the curtains.”

[omaano]

SW Hades AU September Update

Links and previous updates: May - June - July - August - everything else in this AU

For the month of September I have for you a finished character illustration for not only one but two characters for the Hades AU! One boon giver in the form of Shaak Ti,

and Obi-wan, this grumpy old desert hermit who is still missing shading from his dusty surroundings.

AND below the cut I will show you the designs for all the keepsakes I sketched out for the characters this month :3

But - before I go into some ramblings - let's have another poll:

(I know it's a lot like the last poll, but I'm really trying to work on drawings of the boon giver characters while I still remember all the layer settings I need for their glow and radiant spikes ^^;)

And now on for the ramblings and thoughts behind the process of the art I've created this month:

One last rant about me and replicating the Hades art style

I have touched on my struggles with how I translate the Hades art style into my project in the previous update, and unfortunately the perfectionist in me refuses to let it go... so I'll muse on that a bit more in this one as well. Last time, I promise. I've come to the necessary conclusions that I'll let the topic go once I typed these out.

I found this very interesting video that I wish I'd seen before I started this project.

It is a very interesting breakdown of the Hades art style. Now I have to admit that I am very very bad at observation. Therefore I heavily rely on others pointing out patterns and defining characteristics before I can consciously start building on those on my own. For example: when I started more seriously working on this Hades AU project my main objective was to get better at lineart. The way I saw it Hades artworks had very clean and solid linearts with lots of black (thanks to another video that pointed that out as one of the 3 major definig features of the style) but if I look at it more closely the lines and shading are a lot looser, and more confident than what I ended up using.

I quite enjoy doing it, don't get me wrong, but there is an up- and downside to hunting down single pixels that are out of order (b it for lineart or shading) and 100% zoom in... which is silly and unnecessary, since I have to scale down my art quite a bit before posting anyway, so who would see anyway?

Also at this point I'm very much facing the dilemma of how much I can change in my approach to this style to still keep this entire project coherent. I'm more in favour of coherency at this point, so I'm just trying to soak up these lessons for future references.

One of these lessons was another point that was very fascinating in this video (aside from how this video picks a multiply layer approach to shading... which I had abandoned after Boba and Cobb for whatever reason?) was to point out the one dominant, more saturated colour in a character art, and how all the rest are desaturated to support that dominating character.

Shaak Ti and my babies

And I actually was very consciously trying to apply that with Shaak Ti! (I'm so proud of myself, finally incorporating a lesson into my work, look at me go!) It didn't exactly go as I'd planned, in a great deal because initially I wanted the red of her skin to be the more dominant and defining colour. But as I went about colouring in the baby clones as well I realized that the blue of her montrals and lekku would be a much better choice, and have the other redish and warmer tones of her robe and clothes, and the skin tone of the cadets to play the supporting colour role. Yet again, half my screens keep eating away the hue and saturation of my reds, but I think that this approach worked out just fine in the end. The blue-purple of her stripes, her eyes and lips look nice and pretty, and the blue in the cadet uniforms tie the entire composition of all these characters nicely together.

I'd also switched up the gem sparkle highlight colours for this one (and Obi-wan too, since they worked so well with Shaak Ti) from the very limiting base 6 fully saturated colours on others (that don't really show up in print anyways...).

And lastly why they are little ghosties in the alternate version:

Ahead of that however a brief introduction is in order. From left to right they are Ray (depicted here the last time he was biggest of the bunch), Slider (my anxious little field medic), and Goldie (my silly little goldfish who claimed the name before it could stick to Slider). For the record they all grow up just fine to join the war effort.

In this case they are more of a stand-in for all the clone cadets on Kamino, especially those who didn't get to grow up, the training of whom Shaak Ti ended up overseeing. (I don't remember if canonically there had been any of them on Kamino when the Empire destroyed their facilities.... but I'd bet that there must have been.) They deserve someone to look after them too, after all.

Also I wanted to see if I can make the Hades shade design work for me. The answer is.... eh, jury's still out, but no, not really. Luckily however, before I have to figure out if I stubbornly would want to change that, it seems like I'm done with my semi-transparent or shade clones. Wolffe is gonna be just fine, solid and grumpy as you can imagine.

Obi-wan

I don't have much to say about the grouchy old man, except that he was surprisingly easy to finish once I got over worrying about the pressure I'd put on myself because of this character illustration.

I fear to say this, but I'm pretty sure I should draw another version of him... like how Patroclus stands up from his hunched over pose and stands tall and strong and matching Achilles with his own spear once you reunite them in the game. And call on them for assistance. So I guess it would be cool if he could stand back-to-back with Cody, with his lightsaber back in his hand, and looking like someone who (allegedly) has his life together XD

Oh! There is one thing. It was a last minute change but I'm so pleased with the stained glass pieces of his teacup! It's his keepsake as well :))

Keepsakes

These speak for themselves, I believe. Special thanks to Quatre for brainstorming a few of these with me <3 Funnily enough Cody's snapped of antennae is the one I feel least sure about now that I have the whole lineup. They feel very in character for Cody (and how he gets his entertainment out of trolling Din in this AU) but it feels a little silly, you know? Especially with how little they look like antennae X"D

Cody - antenna from his armor, Rex - one of his DC-17 blasters, Wolffe - a tooth with "Plo's bros" carved into it, Bo-Katan - a medal/locket with the pattern of the throne of Mandalore, Cobb - his scarf, Boba - a black melon surrounded by stained glass and a fistful of sand, Echo and Fives - a domino

Omega - a clone trooper doll, Kit - a shell and pearl, Paz - a nesting doll with a Pantoran on the inside and a Mandalorian on the outside, Shaak Ti - akul teeth, Satine - a calla lily brooch like she wears in her hair, Ahsoka - a glowing feather from Morai, Leia - Lola

Obi-wan - a fancy teacup, Quinlan - whatever is the Star Wars equivalent of a pendrive, Fennec - a handful of bullets, Sabine - airbrush, Ezra - a tooka brooch made of pebbles and snail shell, Maul - Talisman of finding (the one Savege used to find him)

Anakin - multitools, Mythosaur - a mythosaur pendant, Aphra - Spice Dice used for a variant of Sabacc, Luke - toy ship, The Armorer - her hammer

It's a bit wild to see all of them laid out like this i'm not gonna lie :D

So that's it for now. As for the next month I'm hoping to surprise-finish Aphra (like I did with Obi-wan), maybe do something about the surpirse I can maybe do for Fives and Echo and why they haven't gotten their character interaction yet, sketch out a new character and maybe start lining Bo-Katan and her gang. It should be doable, right? XD Also I promise that this was my last rant about my relationship to how I've given up replicating the game's style as close as possible. Cross my heart and all that.

Taglist of anyone who wants to be pinged once a month for these updates <3 If you want to be added to the list send me a message, or just reply to this post (a 👀 would do, nothing fancy required ;))

@elwinged @yeehawgeek @velsayshi @lionsaint

If you want to be taken off the list just message me and I'll take you off, no hard feelings :)

[moirindeclermont]

Day 11 of my Polin kinktober and today's prompts are as Polin as they gets: mirror and oral sex. Have fun with this one!!

She was looking at herself in the mirror, that morning. Colin stirred in the bed, and by her advantage point, she could see his sad expression at not having her near him as he woke up. She chuckled at that, Colin finding her eyes and smiling as if he saw the greatest thing he ever watched. After some time being married, it still took her breath away, that look.

He was up in no time, standing right next to her in front of the mirror too, kissing her neck slowly.

"Why my beautiful wife is here and not in bed with me?" He asked as she shivered from the contact.

She tried to avoid his gaze, because he would get to the bottom of it in no time.

"Pen. You can tell me what is wrong," he said and she took his hand in hers.

"I'm thinking about how I'll look in seven months. And if you're going to like me then..."

She worked hard on her insecurities, but some were more recurring in her mind. This one....with this news. It was a lot.

He looked at her, "why seven-" the realization hit him before he could finish the sentence and he went on his knees, looking at her stomach in awe. "Really love? Are you sure?" She nodded, pleased he was happy about it. He was shedding s tear and he could not stop smiling. This man... The way he found new ways to make her fall in love with him even after they were married.

Then, he seemed to remember what she said and looked at her.

"Pen, you know I'll like you seven montth from now."

His tone was certain, no doubts. He made her feel a little bit better.

Still on his knees, his hands went under the robe she had on, caressing her legs.

"Do you need a reminder of how much I'll like you?" She gasped and nodded, as desire and arousal sparkled in her.

"I'll remind you every day if needed. Pen, you don't know what it does to me the idea that you're carrying our child."

His hand now on her inner tights, teasing her.

"Bring the chair behind you here, so you can get comfortable," he whispered to her.

She look behind her and saw the chair of her vanity just in arms reach. Pen moved it, before sitting at the edge, Colin "helping" her by disrobing her. There was something akin to a Deja Vu to be in front of the mirror naked, again.

Colin adjusted his stance, for once she was the one who had to bend her neck to kiss him, as his hands went on her hips and her waist, grasping and groping in appreciation. She moaned in the kiss when his hands found her bosom, already tender.

"I can't wait to worship you daily or more, taking note of all your changes and loving you even more. You always says I'm too easy to excite... I'll tell you, Pen, you have seen nothing yet. Just the thought of seeing you round and full, ready to birth our child, makes me want to take you in five different ways."

She smirked at that, "let's start with one or two," she answered, not doubting his words for a second. She was a lucky woman indeed.

He seemed to think about it for a second, before sinking even further on his knees, and he opened her slowly, exposing her core for him.

"I think I want to taste you, my darling," he proposed to her and she nodded. "Keep looking at yourself in the mirror, I want you to see how beautiful and erotic you are when you come all over my face."

She gulped at that, as Colin wasted no time. His tomgue traced a familiar pattern on her most sensitive flesh, her head thrown back in pleasure.

"Eyes on the mirror, love" he reminded her as he started to lick her closer to her core. In the mirror, she saw the image of a gorgeous, sexy woman, taking her pleasure as her husband was satisfying her. Her mouth drop open in pleasure and she shivered from the sheer erotism of the image. Her hand went to his hair, to keep him in place, and when she saw her hands in his curls, her inner muscle tighten, making her moan in delight.

Colin was relentless.

Mouth and tongue in serving of her pleasure, as curious fingers explored her entrance. She needed more and she tried to move her hips, but he was keeping her in place. "Greedy girl," he said as he entered with two fingers at one. She was so wet she didn't even feel the stretch, as he started a rocking motion that made her breathless.

"Tell me you're gorgeous, and I'll make you come."

She was far beyond even thinking of resisting him.

"Fuck Colin. I'm gorgeous. I'm the most beautiful woman."

He licked and kissed her again, directly on her pearl, with a steady rhythm that was mimicked by his hands too. "Yes - Colin" she could only say as she was overcomed with her release.

He didn't waste time after that. He got it on his feet, make her standing still too, flipped the chair so its back was nearer the mirror, said "on your knees" to her, before going behind her and pusbing all the way in, making her moan loudly.

"Eyes on the mirror, Pen," he said again before starting thrusting.

Her bosom was heavy and moved everytime he pushed, and she could see her face lost in the throw of passion. His face too, as he grunted and moaned his pleasure. She gripped the chair with her hands, trying to steadying herself from the assault on her senses.

"You are gorgeous. And mine." He said, as she reached another peak, the sound of their act the only rumors in their bedroom.

"Yes- yes. Col-ah. I'm gorgeooous. And -ah oh god- yours. "

She tried to tell him as her release took her again. He made sure she could stand, before dropping a cushion on the floor. "I'm not done with you. On your knees, my gorgeous wife," he said and, a moment after, Pen had her hands full.

"I want to come on your amazing body, love. Can you do that for me?" She nodded, drunk on him, as she took him in her hands and mouth. He didn't even had to ask her to watch the mirror. She was doing it on her own.

Watching herself pleasuring her husband made her feel even more beautiful, powerful and desirable.

Colin found his release on her bosom, knelling the down near her to lick her clear, sucking her sensible nipples in his mouth. Then, he looked at the mirror.

"You are still the cleverest, bravest woman I've ever seen. You are also the most gorgeous. And I can't ask for a better morning than spending it with my wife and our unborn child." Then he dropped a kiss on her stomach.

"Welcome, little one."

He said with the cutest voice Pen had ever heard. "I love you, Colin Bridgerton."

He kissed her again, his taste on him still.

"And I love you too, Penelope Bridgerton. My gorgeous wife."

They spent that day in bed, making plans about their child and imagining their next months together.

Pen could not wait for them to come sooner.

[applebuttercringe]

Arcane Episode 6 Immediate Thoughts

Spoilers

-Give me the doomed Jayvik content, I'm ready. Jayce is an off the wall murderer hell bent on destroying Arcane and Viktor is the new Herald of the Arcane.

-Viktor is a full on magical girl transformation dimension. The floating and glowing, start patterns, glowing hair.

-Huh

-So Viktor is straight up God?

-This Caitlyn training scene is dope

-OOOH they're gonna go to Viktor to cure Vander. Thats a cool way to tie all these stories together. I wonder if any of them will recognize Viktor. Did Caitlyn or Jayce tell Vi about him?

-Look at Jinx's face, she does not give a fuck about Vi and Hucks stand off.

-Man the council didn't know shit, Viktor should have been in charge this whole time.

-Man Jayce is gonna show up and destroy it. 🥺

-HAHAHAHAHA VIKTOR IS SO JESUS, the long hair, the robe, the staff.

-Viktor has his original eye color in the Hexcore universe.

-cookie

-Even Jinx knows Viktor is a straight up snack.

-Fortune cookies are canon? What Americanized Chinese food restaraunt is Jinx going to? Is there a Panda Express in Zaun?

-Viktors Steel Oasis is realized

-Oh hey it's the kind of plant that he experimented on the hexcore with

-So is this real Sky and we were all wrong in thinking the Hexcore was just using her image?

-Does this take several days? How long is it taking Jayce to come to the undercity? He seemed in a hurry when we last saw him.

-I don't care if these animatic style visuals are the result of a mismanaged budget. Arcane's 2d music video style visuals are so good when you aren't being told they are just for cost saving.

-"We"

-This is nice, this is what I wanted for Thor and Loki

-Singed has a Vander tracking compass. Like the Vampire compass in Vampire Diaries.

-Does Caitlyn know the Herald is Viktor? How will she react?

-Ooh the Singed-Viktor reunion!

-Why is Viktors voice more metallic than before?

-"Evolution has a destination" I mean technically no, you're a scientist Viktor c'mon. Thats a common misconception.

-GLORIOUS EVOLUTION MENTIONED

-And he had the voice distortion when he said it, this is the desire of the Hexcore not of him?

-Is Viktor dating a ghost?

-OH DAMN, the Caitvi reunion is a violent one. Not looking good for the Caitvi stans, or the future of this ship. They're doing a Catradora.

-Caitlyn is a dictator who is offended by being called a mongoose, and by her ex-gfs new style. Be glad she didn't get bangs Caitlyn.

-"Cupcake"

-Ambessa eating an entire raw meat hunk with her hands.

-Oh damn, the betrayal.

-HOLY SHIT JAYCE, ITS HAPPENING, IM NOT READY!

-The music, is this the start of the inevitable end of a three episode arc music montage fight scene that cuts between the plot points while a pop-rock song plays?

-SPIT ON HER

-Oh no, this is the sweet conversation that happens to make everything happy so they can rip it away by killing one of the characters isn't it? Is Isha gonna die soon?

-OH, the Caitvi reveal! Caitlyn did a good! Nice. All it took was to be in her ex-gfs presence one more time and she completely flipped. Poor Maddie.

-The blind fold is kinda kinky tbh

-is Caitlyn gonna see Jayce? Will they talk? Has Caitlyn seen Viktor?

-Now Jayce has a leg brace, my how the turn tables. I little ableist maybe that a leg brace is used to show who is powerless in the dynamic but still.

-I wish we knew more about what Jayce went through, or how long the time skip is, to have context. C'mon writers what was it?

-Once again Jayce is about to nuke a child with the Hex Hammer

-Is Jayce gonna come be healed?!

-The come to Jesus music when he goes to meet Viktor.

-Viktor is the Avatar, or a Jedi

-Caitlyn will be saved by Jinx! Will this cause another snap change in her alignment. Who knows!

-Its honestly shocking this is the first time someone has tried just grabbing her uber long hair in a fight.

-JAYCE NUKED VIKTOR!

-IS HE DEAD! MY BLORBO! JAYCE YOU BITCH!

-UNREAL

-Vander is crying lava?

-No Viktor Jayce is the reason your commune failed.

-Jinx crying on the floor after being struck by a loved one like when she was a child.

-Aw this is cute

-Isha better not die, don't you dare show. Don't you DARE.

-They did!

-They killed Viktor and Isha in one episode, Now Caitlyn is just chill with both Vi and Jinx, why. Awful. How dare they. First genuinely bad episode.

Final thoughts: AAAAAAAAAH! I'm actually mad. They killed Isha, they killed Viktor. Both in dumb and unnessecary ways. Jayce's motivations have not been explored in any depth or meaningful way this season which would justify the story move. I was fully ready to call this a flawed but good show till the second half of this episode. I think this arc release will genuinely divide the fandom. Beginning of the end. Oof. Sorry boys. Arcane is Fumbled.

Let me in the writers room, I just wanna talk.

[teecupangel]

i read this fic where bayek becomes desmond's father and it got me thinking that he'd make such a great father for our stabby bois with daddy-issues hahahaha best founding father ever

Bayek found them by accident.

Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Senu found them while he was connected to her. He felt her take over and Bayek had been surprised.

The only time Senu had ever taken over when Bayek was connected to her was when she noticed that Khemu had been a babe and had gotten out of the house without anyone realizing it.

That was the reason why Bayek knew that it was important to let Senu take control.

And she showed them to him.

Four children, the oldest being perhaps ten or nine years old while the youngest could have only been a few months old.

They all wore simple white robes, the whiteness having been dulled by dirt. The oldest held the small baby in his arms, glaring at Bayek with golden eyes.

They all looked quite similar to one another, especially the two oldest boys so Bayek had assumed they were brothers.

… and orphans.

The oldest boy was the one to answer all his questions but he only gave out his name.

Altaïr.

They were staying in a rickety house that looked abandoned and Bayek couldn’t help but be worried. He had been in the area to help build the bureau so he had asked the two Hidden Ones stationed there if they could keep an eye on the children.

“What children are you talking about, Amun?”

.

What children?

That questioned plagued Bayek.

They have not seen any orphans around the area, they said.

And Bayek believed them.

No.

It was more accurate to say…

He believed that they didn’t see any children.

Which meant that these children were able to stay out of their way for many months now.

Perhaps even years.

Bayek visited them once more, bringing a basket filled with fresh baked bread.

But they weren’t in the house.

Connecting with Senu proved to be the right call.

Bayek could not find them but he knew Senu saw them when she took over their connection once more.

They had moved into another abandoned house…

And it seemed that they were not surprised when Bayek entered their new home.

The oldest of them simply looked annoyed.

Bayek knew that his intrusion was not welcomed so he simply left after placing the basket in the middle of the room.

The following day, he checked with Senu once more.

And, as he had guessed, the children had changed home once more.

It truly says a lot about the current situation here that there were many abandoned buildings and homes that four small children could use without anyone knowing.

He brought them food once more.

But this time, he also brought fresh goat milk.

And left with the feeling of those golden eyes glaring at his back.

.

This went on for weeks.

Bayek always made time to bring the children food wherever they go.

At some point, they started to return to their previous locations but never in the same pattern…

It was always random.

And Bayek found himself smiling when he saw them wearing the clothes he had bought for them. Just as simple as their white robes but cleaner.

The baby that was usually in one of the older children’s arms would even wave his hand at him as if to greet him.

And he finally learned the other boys’ names.

Ezio was the second oldest and was the one who talked to Bayek with a lighter tone than his older brother. His name and his smile made Bayek remember Esio but that boy was in Rome right now, being trained to be a Hidden One by Aya.

The third oldest boy was named Ratonhnhaké:ton and he was usually quiet. The first few times Bayek had problem saying his name, he had suggested to just call him Connor but Bayek could see the annoyance in Altaïr’s eyes and the frown decorating Ezio’s face. As well as the understanding and resignation in Ratonhnhaké:ton’s face. So Bayek never called him Connor. The first time he was able to say Ratonhnhaké:ton’s name without messing up, Ratonhnhaké:ton looked surprised for a brief moment before he smiled at Bayek for the very first time.

The youngest of them was Desmond and he’s always being carried by one of his brothers. They were protective of the child, perhaps a bit too overprotective in Bayek’s eyes, to be honest. But Desmond was a quiet baby and Bayek had wondered if perhaps the baby could not talk but he would make cooing sounds and babble softly at times.

It was like…

Desmond was taught to be quiet.

They all were.

.

“Altaïr…”

Altaïr turned to look at the entrance of their 16th safehouse and nodded as he greeted back, “Bayek.”

The old man who had continually followed them no matter how many times they changed safehouses stayed at the other side of the small hole, crouching so he could see inside.

“Ba! Ba!” Desmond waved his hands at Bayek and Altaïr kept his hold on the baby firmly, knowing that, given a chance, Desmond would crawl towards the old man. Desmond had been crawling all over and all of them had been worried that he’d hit his head on something.

“Where’s Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton?”

“Out.” Altaïr replied vaguely. He knew the old man knew how they would steal food and other items they need from the richer part of the city and always had that small frown whenever Altaïr made vague comments concerning their lifestyle.

It wasn’t like the daily food would be enough for them, after all.

And Desmond needed more than just goat milk.

“I will be leaving tomorrow.”

“I see.”

“If it’s alright with you four, I-”

“We’re not joining your cult.” Altaïr cut him off as he dangled a bell in front of Desmond.

Desmond giggled and grabbed the bell, successfully getting distracted from crawling towards Bayek.

“It’s not a cult.” Bayek sighed and Altaïr didn’t bother to tell him they knew that. They just enjoyed calling it a cult even if it wasn’t true.

“And I know you four have been playing tricks on them.” Bayek said, trying to not sound like he was scolding Altaïr. The two Hidden Ones had been the target of harmless pranks for months now, including a very memorable incident where Ezio had actually managed to steal their coin purses that he returned to them… in the bureau after he and Ratonhnhaké:ton had sneaked in.

But Bayek could not afford himself to get distracted.

He was here on an important mission after all.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that you stayed in the bureau. I was going to ask…” Bayek stared at Altaïr as he asked, “… would you four like to join me in my travels?”

Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he looked away as he said, “I’ll talk to my brothers about it.”

Bayek’s lips curved into a small smile, already knowing that would be Altaïr’s answer, “Then… I will be leaving at dawn. I will wait in the east gate.”

He pushed the basket of food into the hole before leaving, knowing Altaïr would simply find it annoying if he was to try and plead his case.

All he could was hope.

And wait for tomorrow.

.

I think the fic nonny is talking about is Haris by CherShare. Do give it a try if you’re interested.

[miss-madness67]

Married Woman (Ivar & Bjorn)

You find yourself attracted to a man that is not your husband. Worst of all, he loves you too.

The first time you saw him, you were instantly drawn to him. It was not because he is a son of Ragnar, you didn’t even know at the beginning. It was all himself. His broad shoulders and his blue eyes were quick to hypnotize you. The next thing you knew, you were in his bed. You could easily say that night was one of the best you spent with him. From then on, your relationship moved quite fast. He wanted to marry you, and you didn’t oppose. You married at Hedeby, his mother’s domain. You met him there when he came back from avenging his father in England. Your family just moved to the town in hopes to marry you. They were not disappointed when Bjorn Ironside took you as his. Not that you were complaining. Marrying a prince was more than you were expecting, considering that your parents are farmers.

“It’s really hard to be here and look at you, as though I’m not completely in love with you.”

The thread you were knitting breaks when you hear Ivar behind you. You stand up and turn to face him. He is by the door that leads to the hall. You take a quick look around the resting room, you are lucky it’s empty right now.

“Ivar, you know you can not say those things.” You scold, looking directly at him.

His gaze is so intense you have to look back at your knitting. You are making a robe for Bjorn. Lately, he has been a little distant. You think it is perhaps because you have yet to get pregnant. Yet, considering that you have not slept together in two weeks, it is a little hard to do so.

“It is the truth, should I lie, uhm?” he raises a brow mockingly.

You met Ivar a few months ago when Bjorn decided to come back to Kattegat for a while. You had just been married for a few weeks then, still, you instantly knew that Bjorn was not a man that stayed in one place. When you arrived at Kattegat, you also learned that you were not your husband’s first wife. Apparently, Torvi had just separated from him before he went to Hedeby. And he had another wife before her that disappeared.

You leave your knitting behind and walk to the other side of the room. “It is something you should not say to your brother’s wife,” you respond without glancing his way.

Ivar has always harbored feelings for you. They were not evident at first. He was just kinder to you than he was to everyone else. Then he started to get bolder, to the point that even Ubbe had noticed. Luckily, neither Queen Aslaug nor Bjorn suspected anything. You thought that perhaps if they knew, they would surely kick you out. Not that it was your fault Ivar felt that way, or that you have done anything with him. You have not.

You hear Ivar’s crutch as he approaches you. Your heart starts pounding rapidly inside your chest. Even if you have never done anything, you cannot deny how your body reacts to him. It is not that you do not have feelings for Bjorn anymore, it is just that what Ivar brings out in you is stronger. Ivar’s hand finds its way to your hip. His fingers delicately trace inconsistent patterns on your hip bone. Your skin burns to the contact in spite of the clothing in its way. You try desperately to control your breathing. He cannot know that his desire is reciprocated because if he does, you are scared of what he will do. You are scared you might do not want to stop him.

“My brother does not deserve you,” he whispers in your ear. “You know how he is. I’m sure Torvi has warned you he is quick to fall out of love.” She did warn you, but you refuse to believe it.

You try to step away, but he does not let you. “It is fine, once I am with child it will be fine.” you attempt to justify.

Your skin feels hot to the touch. You want to escape the feelings that Ivar causes in you, so you think that if you turn around, he will put distance between you. However, once your eyes clash with his, his hold on you tightens. You have never been this close to Ivar. For a moment, all of your rational thoughts leave your brain instantly. The only thing you can think of is his eyes. They are so unlike his brother’s. The shade is the same, yet they transmit something entirely different. They make you feel something completely new.

At that moment of insanity, you take a step towards him. Your senses drown in his presence. You feel you, yet you feel more. Your hand finds its way to his neck. He is taller than you and you love it. His chest clashes with yours and both your breaths mix. You do not know what you are doing, but it feels so right. It is like welcoming your lover after how long raid far from home. It is everything you wish you felt with Bjorn but never did.

“Once you are with me,” he murmurs on your lips, “it will be fine.”

You do not have time to process what is happening, or even to think. One moment he is looking at you like you are his whole life, and the next, he is eating you like you are the greatest feast ever served. His lips mold perfectly with yours. Your hands cup his neck exquisitely. His hand moves from your hip to your back, leaving a trace of fire on its path. Your tongues dance like never before, and you forget your name. It feels like, before this moment, you didn't truly know what happiness and passion were like.

You feel the hold on his crutch slightly wavering. You know that he is strong, yet he must be feeling lightheaded like you. You part from him momentarily, and he tries to follow your lips with his. You pay no mind and quickly locate a chair nearby. You push him towards it. He sits with a puzzled look on his face. Still, he easily knows what you are up to once you climb on his lap.

Your mouths take no time to find each other again. Now, both of his hands caress your sides and your back lovingly. Meanwhile, yours play with his braided hair. You wish it were loose so you could run your fingers through it. You move your hips involuntarily. That causes a moan to escape his mouth. If you were not aroused before, you are now. You continue with your movements so you can listen to the delicious sounds his mouth makes. It is until he places his hand in your left breast that you realize you are moaning too. Right now, you are not thinking that you are in a room where anyone could walk in. You are not thinking about Bjorn. Or the fact that you are kissing his brother.

A loud crash breaks the atmosphere instantly. In the doorway, a male thrall is standing with a surprised look on his face. At his feet, there is a jug with spilled mead. You quickly climb out of Ivar. The thrall turns away, apologizes, and scurries off. You do not try to go after him to prevent him from saying anything. You are too embarrassed to even glance at Ivar. The silence stretches for a moment.

“I…” before Ivar can say something else, you run out the door.

...

A few days go by. You have been ignoring Ivar ever since the kiss. You only talked when he told you that he took care of the thrall. You did not ask what he did, but you suspect it. A dead slave would not be questioned. In that short conversation, you only managed to nod and flee. The desire you feel for him is too great to simply ignore. Now that he knows he is reciprocated, he has been more persistent in his advances. It has made it nearly impossible to avoid him. Still, what you fear the most is that if you are in a room alone with him, all of your resolutions will be broken again. You fear Bjorn noticing your heart no longer belongs to him. You do not think he will hold it against you, but you still care for him. You do not want to break his heart.

On the other hand, some part of you believes it will not be broken. He has kept on being distant towards you. The night you kissed Ivar, you tried to sleep with him out of guilt. Your advances were stronger than the nights before, and he finally complied. It is safe to say that was the worst sex of your life. At first, he could not get it up, and then it was just not… satisfying. You had to conjure the image of his brother in your mind in order to finish. So, even more so than the neglecting, that was what made you think there could be another woman. Torvi had warned you, so had Ivar and Ubbe. You did not believe it then. Now you do.

As you follow Bjorn through the streets of Kattegat, some part of you wishes to be wrong. You do not want him to cheat on you, which is a bit hypocritical considering you kissed Ivar.

A woman crashes with you, and she murmurs insults your way. Nevertheless, when she looks at your face, she stops. Recognition flashes in her eyes. She smirks, apologizes, and then says something like "one of Ironside wives". The comment bothers you, not because that would make you second to other women in Bjorn's life, but because that means that you are not even memorable to the people of Kattegat. They think you will be gone soon, forgotten in the list of many wives. That you are just one of the many he will have. Still, you must not let it show that it bothered you, so you look down on her way and walk off.

The little encounter makes you lose sight of Bjorn. It takes you a while to find again his blond hair in the crowd. When you do, you see him entering a cabin on the outskirts of town. It was hard to trail him without him noticing, but now that you have seen where he went, you do not want to ruin it. You wait a few minutes at a safe distance, but no one comes inside. Slowly, you approach the place. Your heart is pounding rapidly, wondering what you will find.

The first thing you notice is the loud moans of a woman. That makes you freeze on the spot. Your head screams ‘I knew it’ but you need to see, to make sure. There is a crack in the wood near the door, you go near it. The hole is big enough to show you what is inside. From your spot, you have a direct view of the bed. You are not surprised by what you see.

Your husband, Bjorn, is bent over a woman laying in fours on the bed. You cannot see her face, but you distinguish blonde hair.  Bjorn is pounding rapidly into her. The cabin is filled with her moans and the obscene sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Bjorn groans above her. He grabs her by the hair, lifting her face, and that is when you recognize her. You have never talked with her, after all, she is merely a thrall. You think her name is Freydis. You remember her because she used to cling to Ivar until she realized he was not interested. Back then, you had been slightly jealous. Now, looking at your husband fuck her makes you feel… relief.

You had expected to drown in betrayal or heartbreak. None of that happens. Instead, it is then that you realize that you can be free about your feelings for Ivar. If Bjorn does not care about you any longer, then it does not matter that you are in love with another. You no longer have to remain loyal to him or feel guilty over a simple kiss. Especially with him fucking a slave for Odin knows how long. However, you crave closure. So while Bjorn is still pounding her cunt, you open the door noisily.

Your husband looks up from his task and stops abruptly. He says your name, shocked, and pushes Freydis away. The slave falls to the ground with a thud, but you do not spare a glance her way.

“I know now why you were distant,” you talk first.

He stands up and covers himself with the furs. “I…”

You do not let him talk. You have never seen Bjorn Ironside startled, yet it is your turn to express your feelings. “It is ok, Bjorn. I do not mind, nor do I feel betrayed. Everyone warned me this would happen. Tell me, do you still love me?”

He is even more surprised now. He looks down at Freydis and then at you. He seems embarrassed, though certain. It takes him a while to answer. “I am sorry. I still care about you, but not the way I used to.”

You nod in understanding. “It seems like the gods had put us together to derive our paths to someone else.”

For a moment, he appears confused. Then, a knowing smile overcomes his face. “Ivar, am I right?”

Now is your time to be startled. “How did you…”

He interrupts you. “He is not very subtle… The way he looks at you, I have never looked at anyone that way.” At least he is honest about not loving the thrall either. Then, he adds: “just be careful with him, yes? He is still Ivar The Boneless.” You both know what he means, but you are done listening to your now ex-husband. You nod at him and walk away.

Your body is buzzing with freedom inside your veins. The love and desire you feel for Ivar drives you to search for him. You know he must be in the forest right now, probably in the spot he showed you once; where he went to think. It is not very far from where you are now. You bypass half Kattegat and then scurry off into the woods. The hike seems endless, but it is the best one of your life. Your heart beats fast, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. You have to control yourself before you meet him . You tell yourself that over and over again. And yet, when you see his back, you shout his name. He turns around and sees you.

He is confused, you can see it in his eyes, but when you sit in his lap and kiss him senselessly, he does not pull away. He places his hands on your face and pulls you closer. You know that you must explain everything to him. Tell him that you are no longer married, that your heart belongs to him, that you want with him what you could not with his brother. You want to tell him that and more, but for now, you express it in the kiss. And when he pulls away and looks into your eyes, you know he understands.

[aliceinclockland]

Cardcaptor Magicians and their Ceremonial Clothings

Welcome to Episode one of my random Cardcaptor Blabberings (or blabblecaptor— it's a working tag title), a "series" where I talk about random Cardcaptor things without doing that much deep diving because I hate too much research.

Since I'm notorious for starting things and not being consistent to the point of not even continuing what I started, let's see how this one goes. 😆 I'm also bad at words so wish me luck.

I'd like to start this off by saying 2 things:

this all started because I saw Sakura's pointy hat and got reminded by Kaito's ceremonial robe... then got reminded of Eriol's robe right after.

this isn't a serious analyzation of their outfits, given the reason i wanted to blabber about this is their pointy hats. also I'm more of a Nadeshiko when it comes to fashion: so far from the word 💀

Lastly, take this as a silly post while I try to learn how Tumblr works. I don't want people to use this as a source (or anything similar) because at the end of the day, this is all just silly typings of someone who excels in associating the most random stuff with each other without being able to explain why.

With all of that out of the way, Let's get started!

lold what i said earlier, the moment i saw Sakura's color page in Chapter 74 my mind went straight into Kaito's robe, and when my brain went to remind me of Kaito's ceremonial robe colored page, it immediately went to Eriol, and then started to compare the three, asking myself about their similarities aside from the initial idea of this entire post, the pointy hats.

starting off with the robes, all 3 of them have their attires in the color black. idk why it's like that, but it makes the gold in their clothing shine more i guess 😆

the patterns the clothings have also are (mostly. just in case if there's a part where it's not) symmetrical, visibly seen within the designs on the torso parts (in this case, Eriol & Sakura's chest (?) part, and Yuna D. Kaito's back). I could say it's the magicians' insignia but just in case it's not I'll just say symmetrical symbols 😅

but, surely that's not the only similarities, right?

well, aside from the pointy hats™ and the color scheme & patterns their robes have, I also realized that they're also all powerful magicians~

Eriol is Clow's reincarnation, and according to various Cardcaptor characters, he (Clow) was the most powerful magician to ever exist (but also the most fucked up one as well, i guess.)

Given that Clow's reincarnation were 2 people (he thought he could divide his magical abilities between them), Eriol still (unfortunately) got all of the magic, and most of Clow's memories, literally passing down his title of being the most powerful magician onto Eriol.

This manchild can do lots of things, and his memory of his past life helps him excel in some of everyday skills a "normal child" would struggle with (ie. baking, drawing, sewing, speaking a language, etc). But, no one knows that— not even Sakura until he told her that himself.

also I'd like to point out the fact that despite a lot of his robe's designs were in gold (color, who knows if it's really gold? I don't.), the lining of his outfit is in red.

not sure if Clow's robe is similar (if not the same) or anything but if it is, has his robe been passed down from generations before him? and if so, which side of Clow's family was the robe from?

Yuna D. Kaito is also a powerful magician— in fact, one of (if not the) highest ranks in the Magical Association. (that's the D. in his name— it wasn't his middle name and in fact, Yuna D. Kaito probably isn't his real name) He can do lots of things, but he specializes in Time Magic... which is considered a taboo since you'll get a fucked up alternative world when YOU fucked up using that kind of magic... and also a shorter life-span but let's not delve much into that so this post won't go to the depressing direction 😁

And in regards of his robe, one can argue that the robe isn't really exclusively HIS, since you can see in the picture I've used that there are other people with him wearing the same clothing (assuming it's his clan's) so i suggest burning their headquarters down to ashes to make it YDK's own robe 😆😆

note: a kind friend in the comments pointed out my mistake of associating Yuna D. Kaito and Lilie Shinomoto's clans as one: their clans differ from each other. Yuna D. Kaito's in particular are a congregation of magicians that aren't blood-related and are officially referred to as "Magic Association".

i have no idea what to call his or Lilie's clans yet, but for now I'll refer to those as their respective clans 😅

Now onto the main Protagonist of the series: Sakura Kinomoto. In Tomoyo's words, "The only Cardcaptor in the world"

Started as a girl that had little magic that managed to grew stronger and stronger, then now having one of the abilities Clow had— creating cards (or new magic) on her own.

Though one can argue that she won't be able to do that if Yuna D. Kaito wasn't pulling the strings in the background, keep in mind that Momo said she saw right past Eriol's magic protection [to contain Sakura's magic]. Plus, in the Sakura Arc (where she technically created new cards but under a "template"), Eriol was pulling the strings as well and yet her powers still managed to grow, probably beyond people's expectations.

Her ever-growing power might be hard to control for her, but she's doing her best to utilize it in protecting the ones she cherishes the most.

Now the upcoming argument about Sakura's"ceremonial attire"... well, technically Sakura doesn't have one, and you can't really call that outfit a robe, but most of the details in a ceremonial robe (at least CLAMP's robes) present: the neutral color, the symmetrical design, and the gold lining/design.

I like to consider it her own ceremonial robe— made in a very fitting and unique image of Sakura, that only she will wear.

speaking of different, there are other powerful magicians that doesn't follow the same "ceremonial outfit" pattern so I thought I'd show them too!

here we have the Shinomoto Ceremonial Outfit, worn by the beautiful Akiho Shinomoto in this color page!

sorry about the picture if it's not clean... i tried so hard to find a textless one (same as yuna d. kaito) but unfortunately I couldn't.

now about the details aside from the pointy hat: the neutral color + gold lining & symmetrical detail scheme is there, but the difference with the 1st three and their robe is that the neutral color used with the Shinomotos' were white, as opposed to the first three who used black.

i know you've seen this already but since I'm talking about Lilie here in specifics I'd like to put this here are well: a kind friend in the comments pointed out my mistake of associating Yuna D. Kaito and Lilie Shinomoto's clans as one: their clans differ from each other, and that Lilie's (though only officially referred to as "most ancient magician clan in Europe") clan is blood-related, as opposed to Yuna D. Kaito's.

again, no idea what I'll call their respective clans separately yet, so I'll probably refer to them as their respective clans for now— though i have a few ideas xd

another difference is that the hat may be a bit pointy, but it's not as pointy as the three, and that the hat has three pointy things instead of just one.... okay, maybe not that pointy, but, still pointy 😅

okay that's too many pointy, let's get back on track 😁

the difference is blatantly obvious about this one, and I really can't cross Lilie Shinomoto out from one of the most powerful magicians CCS has ever introduced, since she had strong premonition powers and she was also considered a very powerful magician that's feared within Yuna D. Kaito's Clan. I mean it would take lots of powerful magic to be even able to cross time and dreams for that long just to tell Sakura about the truth in their (now fabricated) timeline?

but i wonder why is their robe different than the others?

we'll get back to that later, if i remember it. 😆

speaking of pointy hats™, you know a magician who doesn't have a pointy hat?

He's none other than Li Clan's next leader and Sakura's most important person, Syaoran Li!

one can never talk about ceremonial outfits without remembering Syaoran's iconic ceremonial outfits! with S because he has two— 1st one (in the pictures) being the original clothing he has, and the 2nd one Tomoyo made for him that was inspired by the one he used to have.

our little wolf is special~ from being Sakura's rival in the Clow Card Arc to being Sakura's most important person? He has learned so much and grew stronger along the way.

now about the details: his clothing doesn't really follow the usual attire pattern: the dominant color of his robe is green, the designs are indeed symmetrical, but the linings are both orange and yellow instead of the usual neutral pallete... his hat also doesn't have a pointy thing on it and instead has a hanging detail on the back.

"what about the attire Tomoyo made for him? it has 2 pointy things!" yeah well you're right, and as much as I gave the effort to add his Clear Card arc ceremonial outfit, I'm realizing now that it's not really an official robe now, is it...

about the clear card ceremonial attire, one can argue the same thing as they thought about Sakura while reading this blabber (if anyone has gotten though this far), "That isn't even a ceremonial ROBE". and you're right, it isn't... since it was Tomoyo's work, inspired from the original one. 😅

so think of it the same way as Sakura— made in the fitting and unique image of Syaoran, that only he could wear.

I guess the main couple of the series have that one as a similarity in regards to this random topic I've thought about. 💚

sooooooo what does this mean? why is his so different than the others?

is he not as powerful as the ones listed?

well. probably.

but he's not entirely powerless— his entire bloodline is directly related to Clow, and in addition, his mother Yelan Li is also a powerful sorceress. So they're powerful.

I mean would the Li Clan even let someone not as powerful as Yelan to be the next in line to lead? Of course not, since being able to have magic and to be able to properly control it are probably some basic requirements to be even considered as a candidate.

But in CCS at the moment, his magic wasn't enough to turn all of the Sakura Cards into those little orbs he kept on his compass. He's even having a hard time converting just one. And if I remember this correctly, he was aided by her mother (by casting the magic he needed in the bears) when he snatched the Sakura Cards from their master.

I'd say he's not as powerful NOW probably because everything happened too fast, and that he didn't have much time to make his magic stronger to get at least within Sakura's power level. Besides, he has lots of potential, and we all know he's a strong one so it's about just a matter of time until he reach his full power.

Now this entire post got me thinking about things as I was typing it.

Mostly they're questions I had to ask, like "okay, now what?" "Why did I do this?" especially because the original plan i had was to only have Eriol, Yuna D. Kaito & Sakura here but I thought I'd be unfair to the Lilie & Akiho, and Syaoran since they both have their own as well...

I really didn't think that one through when I started typing, but the more I think of things to type, the more I asked myself, is the ceremonial clothing an indicator of how powerful you are?

and it's probably a "duh." moment, since the ones who have robes are part of clans AND are also powerful.

(note that Clow was from a union of a European Magician AND an Asian Magician so imo- technically he's still part of BOTH clans, if each of his parents were part of one)

it's probably more of "if you're in an association with lots of other magicians", considering the fact that some of the ceremonial clothings were passed down to the living blood-relative of the family— hence why Sakura doesn't have one and the rest has.

though eriol with that ceremonial outfit can be a bit questionable since he's a reincarnation n stuff, and so far I don't remember ERIOL (capitalized bc I've been linking him to Clow, but I'm talking abt him as JUST him) being part of a clan since he worked independently (as far as I can remember), from what I can recall it was mentioned in the anime that the ceremonial clothing resembled Clow's... correct me if I'm wrong, though.

with the additional input i got from Cinzia (the friend who also pointed out the difference between Akiho's & Yuna D. Kaito's clans),

I also now wonder if the colors used in their robes reflect their intentions? or, since Lilie & Akiho's clan has been around for ages, how long their bloodline has existed?

because if it's the former, then it really won't make sense for Sakura & Eriol (though Eriol is once again, questionable... since his previous body as Clow isn't particularly... good nor he is also evil— at least from my perspective), and the latter makes more sense in general.

another one question i have is the explanation for Meiling's ceremonial clothing? like do they give different styles of ceremonial clothes in the Li Clan based on your gender? your magical abilities? or how closely-related you are to whoever leads the clan? i mean, i know she's an anime-exclusive character but I still want to know because I'm curious...

lastly, i wonder if Nadeshiko has one... since she is also a powerful person (she really doesn't do much sorcery stuff as far as i can remember), though the extent of her magic is unclear like Lilie, it's clear that she's also powerful because she can still do lots of things even after life.

IF you're one of the few people who finished reading this i just want to say thank you, and i hope everything made sense since i am very bad at explaining my thoughts 😭.

I think that's it, my brain is tired now and i want to go back to sleep again so good day to everyone and until next time, if there will ever be a next time 😆

and, cut! 🎬

[goodluckclove]

Leitmotif no. 1 (Migration Patterns Deleted Scene)

This is another flashback that ties to that prologue I'm getting rid of. It's still absolutely canon, but let's just say that I've decided to approach it from a different angle.

But yeah Eddie's childhood was not super great. I do love the image of the other Acolyte Academic (Which is the exclusive rank given to Academics involved in this particular venture) who's just dressed in like Middle Manager Business Casual, but also paired with a velvet ceremonial robe.

Is this spoilers? I can't tell. If you've read Blind Trust you might be able to pick up a hint about Genevieve's history.

-

Genevieve Gallows stood alone in the Core of the Shreveport Academy for a long time. But she wasn’t really alone, was she?

It was a modest room at the end of an underground industrial tunnel. It was obnoxiously well-lit with fluorescent lights that buzzed hungrily. The walls were cement covered over with friendly, fake wood paneling. The carpet was the kind she walked on working her first office job after leaving Stillrush. Never before had she seen anything so startlingly artificial.

With a few small changes this space could look like any other office meeting space. Now, however, the only things occupying the room were a podium up against the end of the wall, long strands of ceremonial twine tied to each upper corner, and the young child they connected to.

Eddie leaned back against the wall of the podium. His head was lolled against one shoulder and his chest rose and fell in the midst of deep sleep. The twine tied around both his wrists and each ankle without really restraining him, because with the amount of EV she slipped into his dinner they wouldn’t have to.

She stared hard at her son’s sleeping face. Her mind went back to when he was born, and the doctors handed Genevieve her newborn son, and for a moment she was overwhelmed by every hue of love and devotion.

Then he saw the size and shape of his eyes. She saw the iris coloboma like the visage of a cruel ghost. And though Eddie’s face was already twisted in the confusion of new life, as soon as he looked into his mother’s eyes his brown eyes glowed gold briefly and he broke down in panicked screams.

Any love she had for him died that day. Since then there has been the rotting corpse of a mother filling the inside of Genevieve’s body up with pus and dead fat.

It was Eddie’s birthday today. Did she wish him a happy one? She checked the time on her wristwatch and sighed. It wouldn’t matter much in another hour.

The door to the Core opened and A bespectacled man in a polo shirt and purple velvet robe peeked inside. “Are you ready, Acolyte Admin Gallows?”

She looked at her son. She looked at the man in the robe as he pulled apart the front to open his belt bag and pull out a jagged ceremonial blade.

So, she thought dismally, this is how it ends.

Genevieve sighed, loud enough to mean something, but soft enough to not be noticed. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s get started.”

-

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[ithinkyouhealedmyheart]

30 Days of November

taglist: @myloveforhergoeson @partiallypearl

7. Mysterious

As Halloween wound down, Kendall couldn't shake the weird feeling that had built up in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't tell if it was dread or getting sick, but he was groggy, and his mind was hazy.

Kendall Donald Knight refuses to believe in tarot cards. He couldn't understand why Ronnie liked them. He wasn't going to protest and whine as she dragged him over to the apartment of her newest friend. Lucian was a novelist who specialized in horror novels, or he was an up-and-coming novelist. A decal with the moon's phases was stuck to the front of the white door. He lived on the sixth floor. He was uncomfortable, but for some reason, he felt awkward. It wasn't that he didn't want Ronnie to hang out with other guys because it would be stupid of him to think that way when his friends hang out with her.

A boy with purple hair opened the door. He wore a red and black striped sweater that made Kendall think of Freddy Krueger. An earthy scent wafted from his apartment, and over his shoulder, the blonde swore he saw smoke. Lucian's eyes were wide like a doe's, and his face lit up when he saw them. He ushered the couple inside, and a kettle on the stove whistled.

"Tea?" Lucian asked as he shut the stove off and grabbed a mug from the cupboard overhead.

"Oh- " Ronnie's eyes lit up. "What kinds do you have?"

Kendall's eyes were drawn to the small, circular table in the middle of the living room. A purple tablecloth patterned with something mystical in gold thread was thrown over it. Atop the surface sat a box and a set of China cups. By the open window, he noticed a burning stick of incense. He wondered how Bitters let him do that. He knew almost immediately that the songwriter brought him for a tarot reading, but he wasn't irked by it for some reason.

"Alright," Lucian pulled out one of the chairs. "What are you looking for? What kind of reading are we doing?"

Kendall looked at Ronnie with suspicion. She tapped her feet gently on the carpeted floor, fidgeting with the drawstrings of her yellow sweatshirt. She knit her brows together in confusion.

"Okay, then..." Lucian opened the box on the table. The steam from the cops of tea billowed and mixed with the incense smoke in the room. Kendall could smell a hint of lavender. "I can just pull the cards and see what I see."

He did an overhand shuffle, and out came five cards: Three of Cups reversed: The Hermit, The Magician, The World, and Two of Cups. Kendall quirked a brow. He didn't understand what it meant, but Ronnie leaned forward.

"Huh." Lucian stared at the cards curiously and tapped his finger against the table. "This is... weird."

"Weird? Weird how? What do you mean?" Kendall's anxiety spiked.

"For starters," Lucian pointed to The Magician card. "Trust yourself, trust your feelings. You know what's best for yourself. In this situation..." He glanced between Ronnie and Kendall. "I'd say listen to how you feel. It's almost always right."

"Then we have The Hermit." Lucian pointed to the card. It depicted a man in a black robe holding a lantern. "Give it time; don't force anything to happen."

"Okay... So, this is proving that it's nonsense." Kendall leaned back with a smug look on his face.

"Kendall!" Ronnie smacked his arm.

"Then we have Three of Cups reversed. There could be something causing a rift between you and someone you love, which segways into Two of Cups, expressing... how much you care about each other." Lucian smiled awkwardly.

"How much do we care about each other?" Kendall scoffed. His posture shifted, and he leaned forward.

"You say that as if we're not friends." Ronnie rolled her eyes.

Lucian leaned back and looked between the cards at Kendall and Ronnie. Suddenly, the pieces were placed in his head, and a metaphorical light bulb went off. He gasped and snapped his fingers.

"You two like each other!"

[lolo3hwriting]

Oneshot: In the Shadow of Penance

Summary: Wildflower Cookie and her mother Dandelion Jelly Cookie, both working as mercenaries, notice some strange things going on. It becomes apparent that something is deeply wrong when they receive word of a town in need of help and go to check it out.

Words: ~2.5k

Additional Notes: Based on the Beast Ancients AU bu @/cuppajj. Vague mentions of Dragonberry Cookie but mostly focuses on Saint Vanilla's mission to cleanse everyone and the broader effects of it.

Wildflower Cookie wasn’t sure when she noticed something was wrong. It was all a series of small, yet concerning events that she didn’t realize were connected until it all but smacked her in the face. Looking back on it, the first thing she remembered was the strange shift in demand in the markets. The town that she and her mother lived in was a trading outpost part of the Hollyberry Kingdom, whose economy heavily relied on trade. Changes in supply and demand were only natural, but something about the recent change seemed off. Any capable cookies were being demanded for work by the royal family for some undisclosed 'labor' at the royal palace. At a glance, it seemed like a great opportunity for her and her mother as they were always looking for jobs. But for some reason, her mother refused to get involved, saying that she didn’t want to work for the royal family. Wildflower Cookie thought it made sense, they had never been ones to like authority, and working for someone as big as the royal family could lead to their exploitation and abuse. Plus, the whole situation reeked of a scam, they were asking for anybody willing with no requirements of specific pay listed. But besides all of that, Wildflower Cookie trusted her mother to look out for both of them, so if she said that they wouldn’t take up the job then they wouldn’t. 

And then even stranger, a few weeks later after the massive wave of monster hunter demands, there was a rumor that the Hollyberry kingdom was being attacked by invaders. Wildflower Cookie was deeply confused. Who would want to incite a conflict against one of the most powerful kingdoms, an economic superpower filled with some of the best knights and duelists? 

The rumors became even more concerning, cookies being more frequently attacked by fierce monsters, cookies entering the Hollyberry palace and mysteriously disappearing, and the most bizarre of all was a new cult going around, calling for the end of times. Wildflower Cookie didn’t believe any of it as all of it could be just some wild speculation. The jungles of the Hollyberry kingdom were notoriously filled with creatures of all kinds, so a spike in travelers would mean that there would be a more likely chance of some unfortunate cookie getting attacked. The hollyberry palace was massive and it was practically an open secret that the noble houses conspired against each other. It was inevitable that some cookie would get caught in the crossfire. And that cult? That must have been a complete lie, probably borne of some cookie’s drunken delusions. 

But as the days passed by, more and more monster attacks were reported and cookies went missing. It steadily raised Wildflower Cookie’s doubts about whether or not this could all really be a lie. It wasn’t until a particularly disturbing sight that truly convinced her. 

One day as she was buying some supplies from the market with her mother, Wildflower Cookie heard some shouting down the road towards the town square. Worried that there might be some bandits or monsters, she rushed towards the scene of the commotion. She pushed through the crowd of other cookies, all staring and whispering amongst themselves, and saw what they were all looking at. It was a one cookie dressed in waffle patterned robes, ranting and raving to those around them.

“This world is a dark, corrupted place, filled with sin and deceit. But fear not, for there is a path to salvation, a way to cleanse your soul and be reborn in the light of purity. 

Penitence is the key that unlocks the door to salvation. To truly repent, you must acknowledge the truth of your sins, you must lay bare your soul before our Saint. It is only through this sacred act of humility and truth that you can reach salvation. Repent! Our Saint calls for all of us to repent!

This cleansing is a profound transformation. It is the shedding of your old, tainted self and the embrace of a new, pure existence. Give yourselves to our Saint and he will give us his love and guide us to eternal purity!”

Wildflower Cookie stood there befuddled, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What nonsense was this cloaked figure spewing? Sins? Penitence and cleansing? And what was this about a Saint?

“There you are!”

Wildflower Cookie whipped around to her mother’s voice and saw her standing a few feet away from the crowd. She immediately started wiggling her way out of the sea of people, making her way to her mother. 

“I was worried about you. Is this where you have been?”

“Yeah, I heard some noise and wanted to check it out.”

Her mother sighs, though her daughter notices it’s one out of mild irritation and not real anger. 

“Well I’m glad that you’re okay at least and I won’t force you to do anything, but can you please tell me if you’re going somewhere?”

“...Okay, I will next time. Sorry.”

Her mother gives a small smile in response and puts a firm hand on her shoulder.

“It’s alright. You got everything we need, right? Let’s go back home.”

Wildflower Cookie nodded and started following her mother back as she turned around, but she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder to where the cookie was still preaching to the crowd. She sincerely hoped that this wouldn’t be the start of more nut-cases coming into town.

Ever since that strange day, something shifted in Wildflower Cookie. She was glancing over at every noise, meticulously counting and organizing all the supplies she had, glancing over at any loud noise, always with her guard up. She could have a lot of different excuses to explain her behavior, but the thing that affected her the most was her mother’s own behavior. Wildflower Cookie could tell that she was trying not to act so worried, but it started slowly seeping into her behavior. Constantly asking her plans for the day, if she was sure she wanted to go to the town square alone, if she had her knife on her. Just in case. 

But despite how many precautions the two of them took, her mother still refused to let her guard down. It seemed the rumors were getting to her, but Wildflower Cookie would hesitate to call her paranoid as they could both tell that the world was getting stranger and stranger. 

After a few weeks, a message was put out for someone for help at a nearby village, an hour away by foot. When her mother took the job, Wildflower Cookie was relieved, there were only so many times she could stand working as a guard in taverns. She was deeply thankful that there was still some employment locally, but she would admit that she was getting at least a little tired of breaking up drunken bar fights. 

When Wildflower Cookie walked through her town to exit, she noticed something strange real quick. Despite it being the early afternoon, there was barely anybody around, the streets practically empty. She swirled her head from side to side, straining her neck to peer into any corner that could possibly have anybody else. The cookies that she did see, which were in the single digits, were strange as well. They all kept their heads down, not a single friendly greeting or even a glance. They were all just keeping to themselves, not trusting anybody else. Wildflower Cookie couldn’t blame them, but she did find herself getting concerned at the tense atmosphere. Perhaps going out of town was a good thing.

She and her mother walked quietly beside one another, with the only words being exchanged was a curt “be aware of your surroundings” from her mother. Rationality, Wildflower Cookie knew that most likely nothing eventful happened. The two of them had walked this path dozens of times before, and none of those times were they attacked by monsters or even highwaymen. Even though both of them were capable, it would still be a problem if they were caught out on the road like this, relatively far away from any outside help. And with how strange the world seemed it looked like anything could happen, so she refused to fully let her guard down. 

After ten or so minutes of walking in silence, Wildflower Cookie couldn’t hold it in anymore and let out a deep sigh. The past couple of weeks had been weighing heavily on her, and the constant stress and anxiety were starting to get to her. She had really hoped that going out would have helped her in some way, but the silent tension between her and her mother was starting to wear her out even more. She understood that her mother had a lot of responsibilities in order to keep them going, but would it really be too much to ask to just have a conversation with her daughter?

Feeling herself become more irradiated, Wildflower Cookie diverted her attention to the forest scenery surrounding them. Although most others would just call it a bunch of trees, she saw more to it than that. Some trees were towering over the heads and seemed to touch the sky, while others were still short little saplings with only a few leaves. Others had fallen over, being decayed by colorful mushrooms and fungus that stood out from all the browns and greens of the surrounding forest. A few facts popped up in her head about the trees she was looking at. Some knew flowered brilliantly during the spring, while she recognized others as particularly good for making paper. 

Others said that being around plants helped relieve stress, but Wildflower Cookie couldn’t say she was calm. More like…entranced. She has had a keen interest in plants ever since she was young, constantly reading anything she could related to them. Each one had their own unique characteristics, their own story to tell. 

“Hey, are you with me?”

Wildflower Cookie snapped her attention to her mother’s words. She had caught her not paying attention, but she sounded more concerned than annoyed. 

“Yes, I’m here. Do you need something?” 

“Just making sure you’re fine. Are you tired? Do you need a break?”

“I’m fine, I was just looking at the trees.”

“Well we’re nearly there, be sure to get yourself ready.”

She nodded at her mother’s words. The dirt path got smoother each step they took and the forest was becoming less dense, a sign that civilization was not too far away. The growth of the forest abruptly ended, allowing for a clear view of the village. It was a quaint little thing, a collection with a few dozen buildings surrounded by a low cobbled wall. With the afternoon sun shining overhead, the town seemed to sparkle in the light. 

They approached closer and made their way to the entrance gateway, stopping at the opened doors. Both of them looked around to see if there would be anyone patrolling there, but there was no one in sight. Wildflower Cookie thought that even a skeleton crew would have at least someone assigned to the entrance, but even as they both arched their heads to search, they couldn’t find anybody. 

Wildflower Cookie glanced at her mother, silently asking her what to do. She only shrugged in response and continued through the gate, to which her daughter followed closely behind. 

It was unnervingly quiet. All the usual hum of life was gone, replaced by a heavy and oppressive blanket of silence. There were no footsteps other than their own, which echoed unnaturally loud against the stone streets.

Passing by what they could assume to be the central square, they notice the market stalls, all of them still having items sitting on their surfaces. Fruit, wood carvings, jewelry, all of it sat abandoned as if the stall owners had simply gone on break all at once. 

Her mother abruptly stopped in her tracks, eyes furrowed in concentration and contemplating what to do, which left her daughter to think. Now that she was still, she couldn’t ignore the strange atmosphere. The silence was one thing, but focusing on it further she realized it wasn’t all it was. She was more attuned to magic than her mother was so she wasn’t sure if she could sense it, but the air was charged with energy, as if moving too fast would cause everything to ignite and explode. Were all the glimmering lights in the air a part of it?

Taking in her surroundings, Wildflower Cookie noticed all of the sparkles in the air. Her eyes jumped to each one, quickly realizing how numerous all of them were. 

Something else caught her eye amongst the countless sparkles around her, a bed of flowers growing conspicuously out of the stone walkway. Wildflower Cookie wearily stepped towards it and crouched down, inspecting the plant life. 

“Is this… a vanilla orchid?” she mumbled to herself.

They were still in the Hollyberry Kingdom as far as she was aware, and vanilla orchids monthly grew in the namesake Vanilla Kingdom. She read that they grew better in more temperate areas, not in the hot and tropical climate of the Hollyberry Kingdom. 

But maybe they weren’t real vanilla orchids. From what she could remember, most illustrations depicted these flowers with their eyes closed or at least half-lidded, giving them a serene, dreamlike quality. In stark contrast, these orchids had their eyes wide open, constantly watching and observing their surroundings. She couldn't deny the captivating beauty of their sparkling blue eyes, which glistened much like the other sparkles in the air. The sight of this new and possibly undocumented plant filled her with a sense of wonder and excitement. But her fascination was tinged with a creeping sense of dread, as their unnerving, unblinking stare seemed to pierce right through her. The orchids' gleaming pupils fixed directly on her, and Wildflower Cookie could swear there was a glimmer of intelligence lurking beneath those eyes, as if the flowers harbored secrets they were just on the brink of revealing.

“Wildflower Cookie! We’re leaving.”

She blinked and broke eye contact with the mysterious flowers, her head snapping to her mother. 

“Yeah I’m coming.”

If it were any other situation, Wildflower Cookie would be tempted to bring some of the flowers back home. She was curious as to how they were growing and if they could continue growing in their climate, but her rationality told her not to even try pulling it up, or to even touch it.

As she stood back up and walked back towards her mother, her eyes lingered on it for a few moments more before looking away and hurrying towards the exit to the town.

[haste-waste]

Zelink Week 2024: The Baker and the Seamstress (Chapter 7)

Day 7's prompt is "Reunion." Happy Zelink Week! Hope you enjoy! @zelinkcommunity

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

← Previous Chapter

The storefront was deathly silent, enough to hear the pulls of breath from everyone in the room: three guards, Lord Yuga, and Zelda. Link hadn't moved for an hour or so, tied up and hanging on his side, dangling from his rafters, but he was alert. The woven whip thing, whatever it was called, was awful. It pooled all the blood in his head and feet. It hurt to take a full breath.

The sun threatened to rise. Zelda embroidered below him, a repeating pattern of scales and dragon talons, the fabric rustling as she worked, adding texture to the rhythmic sounds of breathing.

The despicable man waltzed around his shop, his pride and joy, like he owned the place. "Why do you dawdle?" He commented. "Do you wish to further torment this poor village?" The lord tugged on the whip, and the bindings constricted his forearms and ribs even tighter. He almost wheezed. "To torment this man more than you have already?"

"Does my lord not require perfection?" The seamstress spoke stiffly. Even from this angle, he saw how she masked her fear. It went straight to her hands. He could see her every shift and movement, and she nearly unthreaded her needle in the process.

Her reply seemed to please him. "Finally, you are learning." Yuga leaned his hip against his prized wooden counter and drummed his fingers upon it. "How shameful that it took you this long to understand. Regardless, I am not leaving without that garment," he barked petulantly.

Her hands and thread glowed like liquid sunlight, competing with the upcoming dawn, and he feared for her. By sewing, she brought a terrible fate on herself just so he, of all people, wouldn't die at the hand of a terrible man who reeked of opulence, possession, and madness. Even so, the lord was not someone to underestimate. The darkness Yuga channeled through his bindings did something to him. It emphasized his loneliness, his fear, and his grief, carving a hole in his heart. When Zelda inevitably finished her work, she'd be lost, and her light was the only reprieve from all the darkness in his life.

He needed to prevent that from happening. The robe could not be finished. And for that, he needed his sword. Maybe it would come to life in his hand and aid his plans. First, he had to free himself. Next, he would get Zelda to safety. Lastly, he would fight until his last breath. After Agahnim, the guards from earlier were nothing more than moblins in terms of skill. If he had enough time, he could cut through the rest of the guards and fight Yuga head on.

He was grasping at straws. He needed something, any idea, any reason for hope.

And so, he waited for the right moment to strike.

------

"It's close," Yuga said, investigating her work.

It was. She only had to complete the satin stitching on Dinraal's curved horns, to emphasize their fiery, faceted brilliance. The thought of fire and thread turned in her mind. If she could destroy the robe somehow, they had a fighting chance. Maybe. The whips were a major stumbling block. Maybe she could take one out of commission by being captured so Link had a fighting chance to escape. Perhaps even to fight. His condition, though…

She was keenly aware of Link hanging above her helplessly, bleeding and injured. If she looked up at him, she'd break. He needed her.

The end of her work drew near. She played it in her head: she'd cut the golden thread, knot it, burn it to prevent fraying, flip it over, and present the robes to him like a fool.

Burn the thread? That was it! She had a plan, and it was her only chance to end it once and for all. It was perfectly reasonable. When she used a flame to melt the thread, a standard practice, she'd accidentally set the entire thing on fire. Her powers augmented clothing, yes, but she had never sewn anything fireproof.

She finished the edges of the horns, flipped the robe over, and tied the knot, fighting her shaking hands.

"My Lord," she began quietly. "Do you have a blade? I must cut the thread," she spoke formally.

Yuga glanced at one of the guards, and they walked over and pulled out a knife. "Please leave a tail," she requested, and they sliced the thread where she pinched it. The golden thread frayed, just as she hoped, and she pretended to frown.

"My Lord?"

He glared at her. She continued. "I must burn the leftover thread so it does not fray and come undone." Yuga's eyes narrowed at her words. "It is standard practice, my Lord," she said, bowing her head and flinching, just as she used to, expecting a punishment. She received one; he backhanded her for the inconvenience.

Link made a distressed noise above her and struggled.

"A flame, you say?" Yuga said, crouching down in front of her. "Allow me."

She was going to request to control the flame, maybe sending a guard to gather one on a twig, but Lord Yuga took off a pristine glove and pointed. A deep red flame appeared on his fingertip, and with little patience, he lit the thread. The frayed strands curled and shrunk until they reached the knot.

And with that, the robes were finished, and her plan to burn the robes literally went up in smoke. The fabric shone so bright it was hard to look at. She wanted to throw up.

"It is done," he gasped. "It is finally complete!" Yuga wrenched the robes out of the seamstress's hands, like the whips she was forced to braid for him, the fabric chains, and every other piece of clothing under his imprisonment. Her anger, resentment, and fear boiled and flared, churning like molten metal behind her eyes. She clenched her jaw.

Yuga ran the cloth through his fingers in delight. With an errant tug of his whip, the baker fell to the floor with a thud. "Kill him," he declared. Then, he snapped his fingers—Zelda's stomach dropped to her feet—and her fabric chains grew in length and engulfed her. Yuga started pulling her toward him, like an owner with a stubborn dog, and she fought the entire way, scuttling her feet against the floorboards.

Her leg grazed over Link's rusty sword; as soon as it made contact with her calf, the sword began to pulse. Her skin glowed briefly—what in Hylia's name?—she watched the light accrue on her leg and sink into the metal. The rust faded in patches and renewed itself before her very eyes, leaving a mostly intact sword that gleamed with holy light. She was pulled closer toward the door before she could even think to grab it.

Quick as lightning, Link freed himself from the binds, went for his sword and barely snatched it with his fingertips. The fabric chains on her limbs held her back while the baker was dogpiled by the remaining soldiers. A flare of metal was thrust down toward his chest, stabbing him in front of her, leaving her panic-stricken, but her attention was ripped away. She gaped in horror as Yuga froze her bindings, immobilizing her as he donned his robes. They began to flutter in a directionless wind.

Her fear turned into burning, unending fury, so deep it filled her lungs, her nerves, and her mind. The baker dodged and rolled as the room filled with blazing red light.

Yuga laughed. It was a haunting, overwhelming sound. His powers came to life, deep red magic emitting from his hands to fabric, flat red becoming dynamic and roiling, churning red and magenta hues together. The robes billowed and expanded into an array of whip-like silks, glowing embroidery, and fine, endless linens. Unbidden, they streamed outward, billowing to their fullest length. They paused in midair, almost dreamlike in appearance, like someone hung the fabrics from the rafters.

Madness and awe spewed from Yuga's mouth. "What amazing power!" He clenched his fists, and his power permeated throughout the lengths of his ensemble. "Gaze upon my form!" The dragon embroidered on his back began to coil and snake across his shoulders, brought to motion by his magic. "Witness my maximum potential!"

Her bindings shifted, forcing her to look upon his horrific splendor. "I will raze this pathetic land and shape it to my will. Any who stand in my way shall fall. All shall bow to me. All shall obey me!"

Zelda was petrified. Her heart was beating so frantically she thought it would burst.

"I will forge this land anew! My bloodline will reign without end!"

Zelda felt her bindings rise, lifting her off the ground, leaving her feet dangling as she was pulled to Yuga's height. "And it begins with you," he noted as she struggled. "You and your incredible power."

Link shouted her name above the fray, dodging, swiping, and clashing with his combatants.

Yuga assessed her face with a critical eye. She felt wholly exposed under his gaze. He found what he sought, then; his eyes sharpened and leered. "I will plow your soil and sow my seed within you." Terrified beyond belief, her hopes and dreams crumbled into despair as Yuga continued his declarations. "I will reap your bounty until the fruits of your labor carry on my legacy," he hissed, clearly displeased at her disobedience and cowardice. "Now be a good girl and submit."

A single finger traveled toward her face, aiming to trace her jaw. Her skin crawled in revulsion at Yuga, his cursed robes, his expectant and domineering actions.

She felt the dire need to shrink like the frightened, beaten cat she was. It was instinctive, automatic, and she was sick of it. She was sick of this deplorable man and his plans. She was sick at what he'd done to Link and his bakery. She was sick of the bindings around her waist, the fear that followed her every thought and action, and the insurmountable pain and suffering she had faced.

Instead of flinching, the rugged cat within her yowled and hissed, bearing its teeth and claws.

Zelda's deeply submerged rage grew to unspeakable proportions and burst out of the confines of her fear, decency, and civility. She tore her head away from his hand, so irate by the action she retorted: "DO NOT TOUCH ME!"

Yuga reared his hand back in shock at her outburst, the dragon scales undulating with the movement, magic in motion. His brow tightened into a deep line, accompanying a ferocious scowl. "You dare defy me?"

Against her better judgment, she gathered her fury and spat it in his face.

Lord Yuga froze, wide-eyed and incredulous. He brought his hand to his chin, touched the wetness, lowered his hand, and peered at the saliva that dotted it. He closed his eyes.

Then, he laughed, laughed, and laughed. "You fool," he uttered. Then, he became rigid, clenching his jaw in concentration. His hair rose and surrounded him like his robes, a curtain of fire. When he opened his eyes, they were solid red. Yuga's power channeled across his skin, corrupting him wherever it went, a foul aura dripping and oozing from him as his skin went from pale to the color of slate and magenta.

"My Lord!" A guard exclaimed at the sight of his master, but he was silenced by Link's blade. Zelda was preoccupied by the malicious energy surrounding her, a suffocating blanket of gloom. It reverberated through her bones, seeking to destroy her from the inside out.

So many years of pain and fear and despair were dredged up by Yuga's aura. Her parents. Her uncle. Her grandmother. All of them lay still on the ground, while she was trapped in the corner, surrounded by Agahnim and Yuga's imposing forms, who snatched her up before she could blink. Five years of confinement. Five years of suffering and slaving away. There was no escape. Submit, or die.

She refused. No more. Enough. When the gloom forced its way to the last layer of her thoughts, seeking her soul, it met a wall of resistance. Her soul retaliated. She felt the thin layer of her power sink under the weight of it, and she plunged into the unknown depths of her heart. Something was there, freshly unearthed by her fury, just waiting to be discovered. She grasped and held onto it, a lifeline, and it embraced her, coated her heart in assurance, and steered her forward in the face of evil.

"SUBMIT!" Yuga bellowed, his voice octaves lower and raspy, filling her with disgust.

She refused. A distinct urge to purge, to purify the filth before her, to wipe clean, burst forth from her soul, pumping through her veins.

She opened her eyes, and Yuga's red eyes narrowed at the sight of the golden light beaming out of her from all directions. It streamed out of her heart, an unstoppable force of nature, yearning to cleanse all that sullied. It was pure radiance of impossible magnitude; instead of the comforting golden rays of the morning, her light was that of noon, of searing, divine fury.

Her power seeped into the fabric chains, guiding her pain and outrage and desire and resolve down the pleats and seams. Gold clashed against crimson, the fabric vibrating under the magical strain, a tug of war between light and darkness. The wind whipped as they battled, each outpouring their magic to their fullest extent. The constraints around her torso loosened in response, leaving only her wrists and ankles still under Yuga's control.

Yuga fought back with an irate, driven look on his face. A wave of malice-laden fabric raised and threatened to slam over her and the rest of the bakery. She wouldn't allow it.

The guiding light in her soul pressed, it screamed, and it overruled. She was the mouthpiece to something ancient, as old as the world itself, carried within her blood, and she was in complete agreement with its desires. "YOU WILL NEVER HURT ANOTHER SOUL EVER AGAIN!" Zelda roared, outstretching her hands, and her creations obeyed her sacred command.

One by one, the fabrics began a magnetic pull toward Yuga, so completely filled with bleaching radiance power they hissed on contact with his skin. The conflagration of streaming, whirling fabric began to blot out the oozing gloom and malice. Yuga proceeded to scream in agony.

A blazing column of fabric careened in the air and plunged into his open mouth, shimmying down his throat. He gargled on it; he thrashed and tried to wrench it out. It burned wherever it touched him, inside and out. His torso wriggled as the column split into separate strips and latched onto his face, shrouding his head completely. Golden light shot out his eyes and mouth as the rest of the fabrics surrounded his body, mummifying him in his own robes.

The soldiers paused their plight, distracted by the display. Link narrowly escaped the onslaught and hurtled toward the seamstress, impeded by the force of the power emanating through the room, swimming through a storm of magic.

The whips snatched the remaining soldiers around their waists, carrying them and the bodies and blood of the felled, dragging them into the tornado of fabric—and they howled in pain as the fabrics seared into their skin. At the center was Yuga, completely ensconced in his cursed robes and whips, giving off an immense heat from the magic and mass condensed in such a small space.

The Lord reached for her in agony, a pathetic, last ditch attempt—a blazing red plume of corrupted fabric shot toward the seamstress, ravenous tendrils meant to seize and drag her into the destructive tempest, aiming directly for her chest—

—But the baker interceded.

An echoing chime rang throughout the room. Link's sword glowed righteously, the daytime sky to her sunlight, and he ripped through the attack with a mighty shout, flaying the fabric clean in half. The fabric fluttered and snapped back onto the churning mass, tying Yuga and his men into a knot. The air grew uncomfortably hot.

Zelda felt a stinging pain around her wrists and ankles. The fabric chains glowed with Yuga's putrescence, four guidelines connecting her to his vengeance, and they slowly began to pull her toward the mass, the attractive force now out of her control.

Yuga was trying to take her with him.

She shrieked. Link whirled on the spot and sliced her taut binds with an upward pull of the sword. He launched himself at her. She crashed into his chest, and they clutched each other, reuniting as the room turned into absolute chaos. The mass writhed and steamed and blazed so bright, they shielded their faces as an explosion rattled throughout the bakery.

Shakily, the seamstress opened her eyes.

All that remained of Yuga and his entourage was a pile of ash. Everything had burned away: the robe, the whips, and her chains.

The bakery lay quiet. Ransacked and scorched, but quiet.

She felt Link heave for air beside her. She felt him swallow. And then she felt him speak. "Remind me to never make you angry while you sew," he said weakly.

The seamstress choked in surprise. Inexplicably, she felt a hysteria-infused laugh bubble past her lips. The world was spinning and he was alive and goddesses above—they were…

Agahnim, her heart reminded, ever vigilant. Lord Yuga never went anywhere without him. A slew of emotions and pain and fear and dread had her trembling on the floor. "Link!" She clutched his shirt to ground herself, glancing around the room before looking at him gravely. "It's not over. Agahnim—" she gasped, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't do this all over again, "—Agahnim is a sorcerer who will—"

"He's dead," he replied. That couldn't be true. Agahnim could not die. He often reminded her of that.

The sword flashed at his side. Something fluttered against her thoughts, a feeling, a new but familiar voice, just a whisper: It is done. Flashes of color and movement played in her mind. Agahnim, towering over a familiar, frightened boy who held a rusty sword in his hand. The boy, writhing on the ground, earning his scars as magic clouded around him. The colors shifted, forming memories that weren't her own. Link, as he was now, rising to his feet as he dodged wave after wave of magic. Him, intercepting a massive attack with his sword, the magic pushing and pulling between Agahnim and himself with each consecutive slice of his sword and Agahnim's staff. Then, the final blow, the sorcerer slumping to the ground.

"I killed him." Link's voice was steely over her thoughts, vindicated, and deeply protective.

Do not doubt. It is done, the mechanical voice assured.

"He's gone." Link exhaled slowly, and tightened his arms around her. "I—I think it's over," he murmured, his hand finding its way to the back of her head and holding her steadfast against him.

The events of the evening came to a head in her thoughts, everything they experienced, and then, she felt the slickness of his skin against her own, his arm against her own.

He was bleeding. She jolted. He loosened his arms, and she gently pushed him back in order to inspect him. Where his skin was uncovered held the remnants of battle and captivity: bruises like brands where the whips bit into his skin, cuts, scrapes, and welts from his skirmish with the guards, but nothing was severe. Most of the cuts were already beginning to scab. His cropped pants were dirty, but relatively unscathed. Her eyes trailed lower, and paused; there was a rip right across his chest. She remembered the flash of metal and her panic as he was stabbed.

Fearing the worst, she looked down at skin peeking under the tear and found a bruise instead of a gash. She couldn't believe her eyes. His clothes were rumpled, singed, and cut in too many places, but his skin underneath was unbroken. That shouldn't be possible. He should have died from what he had gone through.

"How?" she questioned, looking up at him incredulously. "And you fought…you fought so fiercely!" So fiercely, she had a hard time coming to terms that he, the gentle, kind man that he was, was so skilled and ruthless with the blade. "How on earth are you alive?"

He laughed, looking absolutely exhausted, but overjoyed. "It was you. Look." He laid her hand on his chest and held it there. "Look at the stitches."

She gasped. Her thread and seams glowed faintly under her palm in the fading darkness. The gentle magic emanating from the fabric was a balm to her senses. Her creations for Yuga felt hot and agitated in her hands, fueled by fear and fury. This felt like…like how the wind carried autumn leaves and the soft petals of spring. It felt like the warmth of a comforting meal, the joy of shared company, and his wonderful smile.

It felt like love.

The fabric carries what the heart cannot, she remembered.

"I—I can't believe it," she stuttered. She truly couldn't; somehow, her powers protected him instead of destroying him.

He looked at her adoringly. "You saved me," he said softly. "It's over, Zelda. You did it." He squeezed her hand. "Those bastards are gone!"

Her heart sang at his words. It was over. It was over. She was awash with relief, so much that she needed to find an anchor in the emotional storm.

She threw her arms around him and wept. She was free; free to roam, free to sew what and where she wanted. Never would she have to run again. Never would she have to fear again. And he was the one who cut her from those awful chains.

"Thank you," she said tearily, and met his eyes. He deserved the noblest of words for the noblest of actions. "For you have freed me using your blade and courage." She immediately regretted the formality of her words, but hoped that her sincerity was apparent.

He made a soft sound in his throat in response. "Thank you," the baker echoed, pulling her flush to his chest, "for you have freed my heart from loneliness and strife." He nuzzled his face against her hair. She felt the gentle press of his lips at her hairline, and that was it—the dam holding her emotions burst, she held him tighter, and didn't let go as she sobbed.

When their tears subsided, they laid next to each other on the floor and stared at the rafters, exhausted, surrounded by the mess of the storefront. The sun rose over them, blanketing them in light.

"I can't believe I killed some today," she murmured, still trying to process it all.

"Neither can I," he responded. "But it's fitting if you think about it."

She turned her head to look at him. He stared up at the ceiling. The sword laid in his palm, no longer glowing, but most of the rust had faded. "Agahnim killed my family. Yuga killed yours."

She had no idea that Agahnim was behind the death of his family. The scars, yes, but…she should have figured that out. "I'm sorry," she said. "I had no idea."

He gave her an understanding look. "Even then," he supposed, "We didn't kill them outright. Their power led to their ruin."

A previously unperceived feeling of guilt released after his statement. It was true. If Yuga didn't desire the robes, they wouldn't have killed him. Her power was released in self-defense. It was over. They were safe. She hummed in agreement and sunk into the floor, the fatigue weighing on her eyes, and she let them close. She should probably clean their wounds before infection set in. But she needed to rest, just for a moment. She felt the warmth of his hand taking hers into his own. And after a gentle squeeze in response to his affections, she was out.

------

Zelda was awoken by the sounds of someone screaming. She shot upward, winced at the pull of her muscles, and Link barely pushed himself off the floor before someone sprinted through the axe-battered door.

"HELP ME!" It was a woman with dark, curly hair, her belly carrying a tiny swell of life, and she dove behind what was left of Link's display case.

"Cecilia?" Link said in shock.

"DO SOMETHING!" Cecelia barked. Her voice was familiar. She'd heard it before, somewhere. Wait...was she the woman in the woods?

Zelda and Link looked out the door. Two bokoblins tumbled toward the bakery, carrying blunt, nasty-looking sticks as weapons.

Link instantly surged out the door and left his sword behind. "Wait!" Zelda called, plucking it off the ground. The sword vibrated in her hand as soon as she lifted it; light swirled from her fingers and surged into the blade. The rust faded, the metal morphed, and it was fully restored in seconds, gleaming and sharp, the Triforce clearly visible on the blade.

Thank you, your Grace, the sword spoke in her mind. I am renewed for the first time in centuries.

Her eyes widened. Your Grace? What did that mean? Link snatched it out of her hand—"Thanks!"—ran outside, and went to work, culling the bokoblins in moments. They exploded into purple ash.

Cecelia hadn't noticed her yet, too busy hiding from her assailants. Zelda froze. The woman peeked over the counter and shrieked at the sight of her: "A GHOST!!!"

Zelda wanted to run. Not safe—and the woman started to throw things at her in fright. She narrowly dodged a chunk of wood. "HELP!" Two loaves of bread followed suit, and she stepped backward, feeling pressured to leave. "DON'T SUCK OUT MY SOUL!" she cried helplessly.

Link rushed into the room, stood in front of her, and intercepted the blows. Zelda went for the door, but he grabbed her arm and pressed her into his back. He pointed his sword at Cecilia, who dropped a dinner roll at the sight. "Master Link," she said shakily, holding a hand over her belly protectively, "Are they gone?"

"They're gone," he confirmed, and lowered his sword.

"You killed them?" She questioned, in awe.

He nodded. Cecelia, still unnerved, went on her tiptoes and tried to peer over Link's shoulder to see what he hid. "You're being haunted, Master Link!" Cecilia pointed at him, and Zelda recoiled, grabbing the back of his shirt, frightened at being perceived.

"I'm fine!" He said, clearly annoyed, and kept Zelda close.

"But–!"

"Go home!" Link bellowed.

Cecilia seemed to remember herself then, and scampered past them. To Zelda's surprise, she paused in the doorway, and bowed. "Thank you." She gave them one last look and fled.

Once the woman was out of sight, Zelda bolted. He grabbed her wrist before she could make it very far, squeezing the bruises that laid there, and she winced.

"Sorry!" He let go and placed his hands on her arms instead. She glanced at the decrepit front door, at a loss.

Link seemed to read her mind. He held her hands, keeping her in place. "Stay," he said, standing in the chaos of his storefront. She saw the heartbreak in his eyes. "Don't mind her. Don't mind any of them. I will keep you safe. Please, just…stay."

She still felt the need to flee. But she didn’t anymore, did she? It was over. Yuga was gone. And where else could she go? Where else did she want to go?

He squeezed her hands gently, pleadingly. She realized that didn't want to go anywhere without him.

Zelda made her first autonomous choice in years. She chose to stay. She squeezed him in response and let go, looking around the bakery.

The storefront was worse than she thought. His shelves and counters were fractured. There was wood, bricks, and dust everywhere. A huge scorch mark marred the floorboards where Yuga had met his end.

Well, there was plenty of work to do around here. He worked hard to get her back on her feet, so she would do the same. Without any prompting, she began to pick up the rubble. It was somewhat painful. On that note, she should find a rag and fetch some water to clean their wounds.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Staying," she replied, and went looking for a broom and rag. The kitchen was largely undamaged, much to her relief, with his flipped work table and broken flour containers being the only casualties. She assumed the rest of the shop was in a similar state. That was good. In a few days, he could resume operations at a smaller scale, albeit with a dilapidated storefront. The thought filled her with hope.

She opened the pantry door, found a broom, a dustpan, and a rag, shut it, wet the rag using the drinking water bucket next to the cupboard, and returned to the storefront.

Link stood there and watched her, absolutely perplexed as she handed him the rag. Then she began to sweep, starting with the chunks of wood sourced from the front door.

"You're sweeping," he said blankly, watching her create a pile of dirt, wood, and fabric scraps. He looked at his hand and seemed startled by the wet rag resting within it. "What's this for?"

"You’re injured," she answered simply, "and I didn't know if you had bandages. It'll feel good to clean up." Her scrapes had scabbed over throughout the evening, and she didn't have as many cuts as him overall, so she didn't need it. She could handle a few bruises and burns. Besides, doing some work would help her process this, the beginnings of her new life. Life marched on, and she would march along in time, even if it was scary at times.

"But…" he frowned. He was confused as she'd ever seen him. It was endearing.

She smiled at him. "You have a village to feed, don’t you?" She leaned down, picked up a few sizable bit of debris, and tossed them into the dustpan. "And you can’t do that with the storefront in such a state. Let me help."

Link stared at her, just like the day he learned her name as she continued to sweep the floor. She blushed at his expression. This time, instead of standing there and gaping like a fish, he tossed the rag aside, strode across the room, pulled her into his arms, took her face into his hands, and kissed her.

She dropped the broom in shock, swept up in his embrace and the softness of lips, and returned his affections in earnest.

Together, as partners, they worked together to rebuild as the daylight sun shone hopefully on the bakery. Slowly, they healed. The villagers paid the oddly scarred but pleasant couple no mind, and they lived happily, working side by side, stronger in their partnership than by themselves, linked through broken bread, companionship, and the hidden enchantments of the different kinds of love they shared.

They never feared again.

[junikicker]

Under Her Spell Part 3 - Lady Bellaston x fem!reader

Under Her Spell - Lady Bellaston x fem!reader

warnings: smut, mention of scars

note: I hc her first name is Clarissa don't ask why I just do

word count: 2.3k

You woke up in the morning to the birds tweeting outside as the sun tickled your scarred skin. You were about to sit up when you noticed a weight on your chest. You smiled at the sight. Lady Bellaston looked so peaceful asleep.

You brought your hand up, gently running your fingers through her soft hair. This had been the first night in months you had slept through. Her presence seemed to soothe something inside of you, seemed to soothe your soul.

You felt her breathing change, indicating she was starting to stir awake. You smiled as a soft frown made its way to her face, eyes starting to flutter open. “Good morning, my lady.” You spoke softly, your voice raspy from sleep.

“Mhm.” She mumbled in response, too lazy to mutter out more words. “Did you sleep well?” You asked her, your hand traveling from her hair to her neck, drawing patterns on her pale skin.

“Would you like some breakfast, Lady Bellaston?” You asked, going back to running your hands through her hair. She smiled. “I believe we are far enough into whatever this is for you to stop calling me that.” She gently spoke.

“What should I call you instead, Lady Bellaston?” You teased, looking down at her adoringly. “Call me Clarissa.” She replied. It was only now that you noticed the rasp in her voice. Immediately, it became your new favorite sound. “Clarissa...” You said, smiling. “That’s a lovely name.” You decided, looking at the ceiling.

“Only when you say it.” Clarissa smiled.

“So, Clarissa. Breakfast?” You asked, getting back to the initial conversation topic. “That sounds very appealing.” She hummed. “I shall be back then.” You said, starting to get up. “You don’t have people for that?” Clarissa asked, sitting up, not bothering to cover her chest. You had a hard time not to look at it.

“Darling, no one knows about this place other than me and my friend Charles. How am I to hire people if this place doesn’t even exist on the papers?” You explained to her. You saw the hint of a blush on her cheeks as the word ‘darling’ left your lips.

“In that case, I might as well accompany you.” She decided and you smiled, watching her get out of bed, completely bare. “Would you like a robe, my lady?” You asked her, seeing goosebumps appear on her skin as the cold air hit her body completely. “Mhm.” She hummed, stretching her arms above her head, hands almost reaching to the ceiling. You went over to the wardrobe next to the window and pulled out a dark blue, silken robe, draping it over your left arm before walking back up to her.

“Thank you, dear.” She smiled and slipped on the robe. “Looks much better on you than it does on me.” You smiled back at her, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I highly doubt that, Y/n.” She whispered back.

When you heard your own name, it usually made you cringe. You were rarely called by that name, it somewhat sounded like another person’s name. But when she said it. When she said your name, it made you feel like it was your own.

You were pulled out of your small trance when Clarissa pulled you in for a kiss, one hand holding onto your chin, while the other lingered against your bare chest, nails gently tracing your scars. You had felt a bit vulnerable, falling asleep next to her like this, showing your scars. But she seemed to cherish them like they were some kind of treasure.

You prepared breakfast for her in the kitchen, she sat on a chair across the stove, observing you carefully, following your movements. “Who taught you to cook?” She inquired, leaning onto the counter, one arm holding up her head.

“Charles’ wife, Clorinda Morrissey. She owns a tea room just outside of London. I spent some time at their place for a change of place. Finding a new perspective to look upon a book that I was writing.” You shared, cutting up some vegetables.”You’re a writer?” Lady Bellaston inquired further, still carefully observing your movements.

“Ah, yes. Well, I suppose not really?” You said. “Why the change of scenery?” She asked, truly intrigued by the topic. “They live closer to the countryside, you see. No greater place to find poetry than in nature, is there?” You explained as you finished preparing the meal.

“A poet, huh? I wonder what the Viscount has to say about that.” She asked you in a teasing manner. “It is more of a hobby to him. God forbid if I actually sell them for good money someday. Other than that he believes nothing will ever come close to the works of William Shakespeare.” You explained and she nodded in response. “Although Shakespeare is indeed a very skilled writer.” You admitted.

“I shall be the judge of that.” Clarissa decided. “I own loads of Shakespeare. Have read even more.”

“What would you like to hear?” You asked, plating the meal. “Surprise me.” She requested, smiling. You thought for a moment before starting to recite a work that you had started a few weeks ago.

“Midnight. Not a sound from the pavement. Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone.” You started, looking into Clarissa’s captivating green eyes. “In the lamplight, the withered leaves collect at my feet. And the wind begins to moan.” Your voice was soft but clear. A bit of a rasp was noticeable, still a bit tired. “Memory. All alone in the moonlight. I can dream of the old days. Life was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory love again.” You delivered the poem more song-like. It had always been more of a sonnet in your mind.

“Hmm.” Clarissa hummed, eyes closed as she absorbed the soft sound of your voice. “Melancholic. Something about time passing and the transience of life. Forgotten by the people around you while longing to feel loved again. Perhaps for the first time.” Clarissa interpreted your words, getting up from her seat across from you. “The importance of the past in regards of shaping the future.” She smiled and kissed your lips. “You have a wonderful voice, dear.” She complimented you and you blushed a bit. “Thank you, Clarissa.” You smiled back and handed her one of the two plates.

“You are very skilled with your tongue,” She said smirking, “Handling words so well… Shakespearean, one might say.” She teased you. “And you, my dear Clarissa. Are a very skilled interpreter.” You teased her back. “And judging by last night, I do agree on the matter of my skilled tongue.”

The two of you enjoyed your meal in comfortable silence. Both of you could sense the electricity in the air, knowing it would only be a matter of time until Lady Bellaston’s robe and your pants would be on the floor.

And sure enough, a good fifteen minutes later, the empty plates were long forgotten as you undid her robe, as you had her trapped against the counter.

You slid your hands up her thighs, picking her up easily, and placed her down on the counter. Her hands instinctively wrapped around your neck, pulling you in as close as possible.

Her hand in your hair was sending shivers down your spine as you started pressing kisses to her neck. The next kiss was both long and short lasting. You both longed for it to be longer but you both suffered from the lack of oxygen. You moaned into her mouth as you rejoined your lips with hers and her tongue slipped into your mouth. She was intoxicating.

“You’ve learned a lot.” You teased her, leaving soft kisses along the line of her knife-sharp jaw. “Tell me you want me, Clarissa.” You whispered into her ear.

“I don’t want you.” She said, pushing you off her neck. “I need you. Really, really bad.” She said a smug smile on her face.

Immediately, you pushed her thighs apart, standing between them. She looked down at you with lust-blown eyes.

She arched her back into you, just for the sake of being as close to you as possible. You couldn’t get enough of her, she was like some kind of drug. So addicting, but making you feel so much joy inside.

Your eyes flickered up to her as you smirked. “Let me take care of you, darling.” You whispered, hands running up and down her luscious thighs. You started kissing her again, softer this time. As if you were trying to tell her something.

The blonde’s head fell back suddenly as you watched her eyes roll into the back of her head as you pushed two fingers inside her, curling them gently as you started at a slow, steady pace. Moans spilled from her mouth like a waterfall. You couldn’t help but look at the woman’s face, eyes falling close as she let the pleasure you were providing her with wash over herself.

“Dear lord, Y/n. I-” She couldn’t even finish her sentence properly, but you already knew what she was going to say as you felt her starting to clench around your fingers.

You added a bit more pressure onto her sensitive bundle of nerves, getting her even closer to the edge. She cried out as she tightened around your fingers even more. “Please, can I-” You didn’t let her finish her sentence. Instead, you hungrily pressed your lips onto hers.

You increased the pace once again, that seemed to have been it for her. She arched her back and her front was pressed to yours as her high overcame her. Her eyes were shut tight as she tried to catch her breath afterward.

You pulled her into a deep and loving kiss.

“Can you show me how to…?” Clarissa asked once she had fully calmed down while you pressed soft kisses all over her body.

“I would love to.” You smiled and helped her down the counter. Easily, you picked her up and carried her up the stairs, back into the bedroom where things had started last night.

You instructed her to sit on the edge of the bed, before walking up to her, coming to a halt between her legs. “Help me with these, darling?” You asked her, referring to your pants.

Instinctively, she followed your request and undid your pants, hands slightly shaking with nervousness. “Don’t be nervous, Rissa. It’s just me.” You smiled at her softly. A warmth overcame the older woman at the new nickname. As soon as your pants were on the floor, Clarissa started eyeing you up as if you were raw meat. “Like what you see?” You asked her teasingly, a blush crept up her cheeks at the thought of being caught staring. But she couldn’t help it. Even if she tried. She found herself so captivated by your uniqueness and beauty, that she wouldn’t dare tear her eyes off you even for a moment.

You came around the bed, placing yourself against the headboard, patting the opening between your legs for her to fill. Immediately, she complied, rushing to plant herself between your thighs. Then you felt her lips on yours. At first, the kiss was calm and caring, but it developed into rushed and heated rather quickly.

“Explore me. Mark me up, darling.” You instructed her. “Start with my lips and move down south.”

She immediately obliged, eager to please you for the first time. She began peppering kisses all over your face, coming back to your lips every now and then. She then moved down to your neck and collar bone. When she hit your pulse point, you gasped slightly and she immediately drew back, only to be met by your lust-blown eyes.

“Don’t stop, darling.” You breathed. “Bite down on that spot, beautiful.” And she did as you told her, teeth grazing your pulse point, eventually gently biting down on it, retrieving a strangled moan in return. She could feel the vibration on her face.

She continued to explore your body, hands roaming all over your body as she caressed the scars from your surgery with gentle kisses, your hand was tangled in her hair now, holding a firm grip. “Hmm. I need you.” You hummed out as her kisses traveled to your stomach, hips bucking when she dips her tongue into your belly button.

“Come straddle my lap, darling...” You husked and she came right up, trapping you against the headboard. “Let’s start easy, shall we?” You asked her, caressing her cheek gently, she nodded barely. You gently got a hold of her hand, guiding it down to your throbbing heat.

On her own, she dragged a finger through your folds, making your head fall back in a silent scream. “Inside.” You whimpered, trying to contain your moans and she easily slipped one finger inside your core, her lips leaving hot kisses on your neck.

She added another finger and quickened her pace, leaving you gasping before a low moan escapes your mouth when she hist a special spot inside you. She smirked and curled her fingers inside you, sending a wave of pleasure rippling through your body. You were barely able to kiss her back at that point, your mouth becoming useless against hers.

“Oh, God!” You moaned when she pushed her thump against your bundle of nerves, thighs starting to close. “Don’t you dare.” She whispered, using her knee to keep your legs open. With one last curl of her fingers, your legs started to shake and your body started quaking with pleasure.

“Dear god, I don’t even know what more to teach you.” You chuckled as she fell down next to you, once you had recovered. “I have learned form the best.” She chuckled back.

You would love to stay like this with her for eternity. But something inside you told you that it would be pure luck if you could.

[lemonlamblaura]

My Husband is the God of Pestilence - chapter 8

We meet Lilybell's mom and dad in this chapter... it doesn't go well to say the least. I decided on Lilybell's voice actress as well! It's Cherami Leigh, specifically the voice she does for Cotton Cookie from Cookie Run Kingdom.

They were ready to go in less than ten minutes, since little preparation was needed. Kallamar called a few strong men, previously construction workers, and a few farmers, to go with them, just for some added protection. He gathered Lilybell in the crook of one arm and held her close, and she heard a strong, steady heartbeat thrumming deeply in his chest.

"I leave everything to you," he said to Trenaty and two other supervisors.

Trenaty stepped forward and looked up towards Lilybell. "Good luck, dear," she said gently, "we look forward to seeing you again soon."

"Thanks, Trenaty," Lilybell replied, putting on a brave smile.

"We'll go by magic, as that's the fastest way," Kallamar said. "Everyone hold tight to me, and close your eyes."

Lilybell shut her eyes tightly. For a few moments she felt no different, and she had to wonder if anything was happening at all. Against Kallamar's orders, she peeked one eye open, but all she saw was darkness. Or were those patterns in the dark very far away? She couldn't tell. The more she tried to concentrate on them, the dizzier she felt. She had to close her eyes again, burying her face in Kallamar's cloak.

Suddenly a cold breeze brushed against her wool (and she could tell it was a breeze, not an ocean current) and she shivered in his arm. When she opened her eyes again, she saw trees with red and orange leaves, and smelled flowers, wood and dirt. Songbirds twittered in the distance, and the hum of insects buzzing filled the air.

"I told you not to open your eyes," Kallamar said, not unkindly.

"Sorry," she said and pulled away from him when another breeze went by, and she realized she was drenched from ocean water. "Aww, I'm soaked!" She complained, starting to wring her hair out.

"There will be towels at the village," Kallamar set her down, not caring that he was wet too. He was used to it, going to and from Silk Cradle so often.

After a few minutes they found a trail leading up the mountain, and Lilybell recognized the trees around it well enough to know that they weren't far from the village. Ten minutes later, they saw the village in the distance, and Lilybell found herself breaking into a sprint to reach it, pulling her robes up a little to run easier. Kallamar didn't attempt to stop her, knowing this was important to her.

Some people called out to her, surprised to see her back when they thought she was gone forever. She ignored them, running at top speed towards her old house, flinging the door open with all her might.

"Father, mother! I'm here-"

Her father stared back at her at the table, mid bite, oatmeal slipping from his spoon, while her mother sat at the other side, mouth hanging open in shock. Aside from looking tired (he never slept well anymore), her father looked completely fine, and was fully dressed, ready to work.

"Lilybell?" He mumbled in confusion.

"Baby!" Her mother cried, rushing towards her with arms outstretched. She wrapped Lilybell up in a tight hug, while Lilybell stared at her father with wide eyes. "You're back! My, those mailmen work quick nowadays! Well you don't have to worry about going back to that horrible ocean, you're home now, and I'm never letting you out of my sight again. Gods, you're all wet! Let me get you some towels."

She gave Lilybell a big kiss on the cheek and let her go. Lilybell's father got up from the table and gave her a gentler hug, his eyes welling with tears.

"You're not sick," she said blankly, not reaching up to hug him back.

He pulled away, searching her face. "Gods... that's why you're here." Her mother came back in the room and he turned on her instantly. "Did you tell her I was sick so she would come home?"

"Well, I had to do something," her mother said matter of factly, "she would never come home if I simply asked her. She's too stubborn."

"I can't believe this!" Lilybell's father shouted, and Lilybell's heart began to race uncontrollably. She immediately shut down, trying to block out her parents. It never worked. "How can you do this?! How dare you tell her something like that?! What's wrong with you?!"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" She shouted back, "you would rather her be at the bottom of the ocean? You'd rather her be a slave to some evil god?"

"You've really reached a new low!"

"I saved our daughter! You should be thanking me! You know she can't look after herself!"

"Maybe she could if you treated her like the adult she is for a change!"

"She can't be - Lilybell! Where are you going?"

Lilybell paused as she had been caught trying to tiptoe towards the front door. She turned her head to see both her parents staring at her. "Um..."

"See?" Her father exclaimed, gesturing towards her with his hoof, "she doesn't even want to stay!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course she wants to stay. Don't you, honey?"

"...no?"

Her mother stared at her. There was a look of disbelief on her face, and Lilybell couldn't decide if it was disbelief at the fact that she would rather leave, or disbelief at the fact that she would dare disagree with her. She stepped up to Lilybell, looking cross. "Lilybell," she said coldly, "you are not leaving this house. You are staying here where you belong."

"You can't keep me here anymore..." Lilybell protested, not moving from the door.

The older woman just stared down at her, thinking. Then, surprisingly, she broke out into a big smile. "I know you've had your fun, but it's time to come back down to earth. Come on, now, won't it be nice to sleep in your own bed? I'll make strawberry pie for dinner tonight, I know that's your favorite."

"I'm not staying for dinner."

"Lilybell-"

"No!" Lilybell cried, not as loudly as she wanted to, "I'm going home with Lord Kallamar! I'm happy being with him. He takes care of me, and I have friends there. Can't you understand that? Don't you want me to be happy?"

The air in the house became very cold. Lilybell's mother continued to stare down at her, and she felt like she could sink through the floor at any moment. There was nothing worse than this feeling. She honestly wondered if her mother wanted to hit her. Maybe she should and get it over with. It would do away with years of anticipation.

"Just let her do what she wants for heaven's sake," her father said frustratedly.

"Lilybell, get away from that door right now."

"No!"

Lilybell's mother reached out and grabbed her wrist harshly, pulling her away from the door. "I've had enough of this! I am not letting you go! You are staying here with us and that's final!"

Suddenly the door was ripped from its hinges, and Lilybell's mother screamed as a black eye with red slits stared at them through the doorway.

"Lord Kallamar!" Lilybell cried in relief.

"Get out here, all of you," he growled.

Lilybell nonchalantly walked out the door. Her mother and father hesitated, but seeing that their daughter wasn't afraid, they followed shortly after her. Kallamar was standing on the lawn with the followers from the temple around him. The villagers had gathered around the front of the house, staring up at him in wonder. He looked angrily down at them as they came out, but especially at Lilybell's mother.

"So I see that you are not ill after all," Kallamar sneered down at the father. He turned to Lilybell's mother, who was visibly trembling. "You have wasted not only time, but you have caused my assistant unnecessary distress. How do you plan to correct this slight against me?"

Lilybell's mother was unsure of how to get out of this. What do you even say to an angry god? "I-I'm sorry, my lord, I just wanted my daughter to come home..."

"You could not have asked her? You needed to lie? It is obvious your efforts were questionable, and you had no intention of allowing your daughter to make her own decisions. Tell me why you do not deserve to be punished for your actions."

Lilybell would be lying if she didn't find any satisfaction in seeing her mother's terrified face. Still, she felt guilty that her mother should be punished, and she spoke up quietly, "Lord Kallamar, can we please just go home? You shouldn't punished my mother. I just want to go home now."

Kallamar's face softened slightly at her words, and after a few seconds he nodded, having fully calmed. He reached down and picked her up, holding her close to him, and she turned to look at her parents for the final time.

"Don't go," her mother begged, looking close to tears.

Lilybell waved to her father, and they were gone.

Lilybell's mother sank to her knees and let out a sob. "He brainwashed her! My baby!"

It was you who pushed her away, her father thought wrathfully, knowing his words would fall on deaf ears, and he went back in the house, leaving his wife outside. She didn't even realize he had left.

*

A few seconds later the group arrived back at Kallamar's temple as if they had never left. Some followers came up to greet them, asking about the surface. Lilybell didn't hear any of it. The comfort of being back in what she knew was a safe place and away from her parents, caused something inside her to break. The moment Kallamar put her down, she burst into tears and ran towards her room, not caring who was in her way or what was going on around her.

"Lilybell!" Kallamar called out, wanting to take off after her, but having to weave around the followers at his feet, he was too late to get to her before she slammed her door shut. "Lilybell please, don't shut me out! You don't have to go back there! I'm sorry!"

All he could hear on the other side or the door was sobbing. He heard panting coming up beside him, but he didn't turn to see who it was.

"Lord Kallamar!" Trenaty gasped, finally stopping her run when when she was beside him, doubled over, panting. That was more exercise than she had done in more than a decade! "What... happened? Why... did Lilybell... run away?"

Kallamar's lip curled into a snarl at the thought of that awful sheep, wishing he could crush her under his fist. "Her mother lured her back home with the intent of forcing her to stay. Her father was not at all ill."

Trenaty was taken aback, blinking in surprise. "Did you ever hear the like! I know she wasn't fond of her mother, now we know why!" She leaned into the door to listen and heard the crying. "Shall I go in, my lord? She may need another woman's shoulder to cry on."

He stared at the door. He didn't like that Lilybell was crying. He didn't like that she was upset at all. He wanted to go to her and comfort her. But if he was being honest, he wasn't sure what to say or if he would even do a good job.

"I want to... see her, but..."

Trenaty smiled warmly. "Let's go in together. I'm sure she would like that."

After a few moments he nodded. Yes, that would be for the best. If he said something wrong, then Trenaty could take over. They entered the room quietly and saw Lilybell lying on her bed, hugging her pillow, her face red and tear stained. Trenaty carefully sat on the bed so as not to disturb her too much, and reached over to rub her shoulder.

"Shh, there, there, sweetheart," she whispered, "it's going to be alright. We're here for you."

Lilybell reached up and wrapped her arms around Trenaty, crying into her shoulder. The starfish hugged her back, not caring that her tears were getting her wet.

"Why doesn't she respect me?" Lilybell sobbed, "what do I have to do? Why does she hate me?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, Lilybell," Trenaty murmured, stroking her hair, "you never have to go back there again. This is your home now."

Lilybell sniffled, resting her cheek on Trenaty's shoulder. "I wish you were my mom, Trenaty," she whimpered.

Guilt struck at Trenaty's heart. She laughed bitterly as her own tears started to flow. "No, you don't, dear. Trust me, you don't."

Kallamar wasn't sure what to do. It seemed like Trenaty was doing a great job of comforting Lilybell without him. He hesitantly reached out and pet her head, the big curls of her wool springing back against his touch.

"Don't cry anymore, darling."

She slowly opened her tired, red eyes, looking up at him with thanks in her eyes, and gave a tiny smile.

[gingersnap1620]

Make a Memory (Chp.4)

Dean Winchester x F!Oc

Summary: Lillian has trouble sleeping so she decides to grab a snack and while in the kitchen she runs into Dean.

Warnings: Mild spoilers from seasons 8-15, canon typical violence.

Word Count: 1.8k

Song:

Margaret (feat. Bleachers)

A/N: Chapter 4! I hope you enjoy it! @gingernut1314 beta read this for me!

Lillian

I jerked awake covered in a cold sweat. 

I scanned the guest room they let me sleep in, trying to catch my breath. The room is so dark that I can't even see my hand in front of my face. I laid back down on the pillow, squeezing my eyes tight trying to fall back asleep.  

My eyes snapped open, but what I saw wasn't the same room as before. I sat back up and looked around the room to figure out where I was. 

I stood up and walked over to the little table in the corner. It was wooden and it looked old and worn out. There was a book open on top of the table. 

  This room feels oddly familiar…

“Lillian Cameron MacLeod!”

Mom?

“Did you steal my book again!”

Wait, I remember this.

I looked around the room again realizing that this was my old room, back in Scotland. I crept towards the door, finding it was cracked open allowing light to flow into the room. My mother used to leave the door open for me while she was still up, so I didn't have to fall asleep in the dark.

“Lillian!” I could see her through the sliver of space the door left. “Lillian! Come give it back. Me and Catrione need it!” 

Catrione used to perform spells with my mom, but she always took it to the extreme.

 I leaned in closer to get a better look at my mom. I haven't seen her since she ran out on us. Her curly, red hair bounced with every step she took. She walked with a certain smoothness that I still to this day don’t understand. 

I continued watching until I felt something brush past me and swing the door open. I jerked my head towards the little shadow running out of the room. 

It's me.

I must have been six years old. 

“I'm sorry mommy, it won't happen again.” 

She yanked the book out of my tiny hands and looked down at me.

“We all know that's not true Lillian. Now go back to sleep.” 

“Ok. I'm sorry mommy.” Though I remember very clearly I did not go back to bed. 

I was still watching from the other side of the door when Rowena walked over to our dinner table. On the table was a man chained down by his wrists and legs. There was also a rope tied across his neck making sure he couldn't move his head. 

Little me cracked the door and knelt on the floor right beside it, ready to watch what was about to happen. Catrione said a spell in Latin as Rowena lifted her hand in the air and in her hand there was a dagger. 

The man on the table started awake and began freaking out when he saw the two witches standing beside him. Catrione said the last few words of the spell as my mother swung her hand down and stabbed the man right in the middle of his chest.

The man's shrill scream jolted me awake.

Great. 

I walked out of the guest room and down the hall trying to find the kitchen. If I can't fall asleep I might as well get a late-night snack. 

Once I found the kitchen I walked over to the fridge dragging my feet. I was too tired to lift them up. I grabbed the bottle of orange juice and a cup. I filled the cup up and went to sit down at the table. 

I was halfway through my drink when I heard shuffling coming from down the hallway. I slowly turned my head to see who was coming. 

“Oh! Why are you up? It's 3:30 in the morning.” Dean gruffed in a sleepy tone. I looked over his body, noticing he was wearing a pair of hot dog-patterned pj bottoms and a long, gray robe. It was an outfit I wouldn’t have expected him to wear.

“Couldn't sleep,” I said with a chuckle as I looked back down at my cup. “The real question is why are you up?” I looked back up at Dean who was now pouring himself his own cup of orange juice. 

“Couldn't sleep either.” Dean shrugged and walked over to the table, sitting across from me. 

“Why?” 

Dean took a sip from his cup and looked at me. “Can't shut off my brain, you know?”

“I hate that,” I said, looking away from him for a second before looking back.

“What's keeping you up?”

“Nightmares.” I sighed. 

“You wanna talk about it? Sam used to get bad dreams and talking it out always helped him go back to sleep. I guess it showed him that it wasn't real.” 

“Yeah, well, my dreams aren't like that,” I said looking down into my cup, avoiding eye contact with him. We sat there for a moment in silence. I could feel Dean's eyes digging into me like daggers.

“Lillian, look at me.” Dean whispered gently. I tilted my head up to look up at him. “You can tell me. I promise I've probably heard worse.”

I sighed deeply, not breaking eye contact with him. “The nightmares I have aren't just something my brain whips up. They're usually memories.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, furrowing his eyebrow in confusion.

“Well, my magic, it's not all just normal witch powers.” I paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “I guess when I was born some of my mother's powers were already in me, so when I got older and more curious about why I had these bad nightmares and why I could see things that the other kids couldn't see, I started exploring them more.”

“Wait a second, your--” Dean looked like he second-guessed what he was about to say and shook his head, “Sorry I don't mean to interrupt, keep going.”

“No, what were you gonna say?” I chuckled. 

“Your mom didn't teach you how to use your powers?”

“She helped me learn how to use normal witch powers that start from a book. The “gift” I got when I was born is unique. Meaning I'm the only witch in the world who has them, and trust me I've looked. I'm the only one. I can basically control memories, or get haunted by them. Also my mother…she wasn't the greatest mom. I mean she had me and my brother, Fergus-”

“Fergus? How do I know that name?” Dean asked himself under his breath. 

“It's a Scottish name.” I shrugged.

“Yeah, sorry, continue.” He shook his hands in a motion to tell me to continue talking. 

I chuckled softly and continued. “When I was two my mom had my brother. And when I was six she left me and my brother with her baby that she had just given birth to, Hunter. I raised both of my brothers for three years before she left the twins on our doorstep. Their names were June and Georgina. 

So now I'm nine and raising four kids. She didn't stop there either, she had two more babies. The youngest two, Owen and then Lindsey. I was a little bit older with them so I knew how to handle them better.”

“Jesus,” Dean muttered under his breath. “How was she before she left? If you don't mind me asking.”

“No, I don't mind. I've already told you more than I've told anyone.” A nervous chuckle escaped my lips.

 “She wasn't a good mother, but she wasn't absolutely terrible either. I mean she is the reason why I have worse nightmares now than I did before. But I know she did love us, she just…didn’t understand that love is not a weakness.”

“I get that. That's how my dad was.” 

“What do you mean?” I leaned on the table more, which ended up making us pretty close.

“After my mom was killed by that demon my dad went into a sort of “shut down mode”. He treated us like crap but I know it was just because he didn't want to lose us as well.” I nodded my head looking down at the table. “So, what was your nightmare tonight? You never know, talking about it might just work.” 

I gently laughed under my breath and told him about my nightmare.

“Who was Catrione?”

“She helped my mom with spells and they also went to orgies together.” I saw his jaw slightly drop from the corner of my eye. “What?” I chuckled.

“Oh “what” alright.” He said in a mocking tone. “You can't just casually say they went to orgies together and then expect me to move on with no questions.”

“1. I don't really want to talk about my mom in an orgie, and 2. Why do you think there are so many of us?” I explained laughing at him.

“I don't know.” He said, rising from his seat. “I'm gonna go use the bathroom, don't move.”

“Ok,” I answered with a warm smile on my face. I rested my head on my hand waiting for him to come back. Man, after all that talking I'm exhausted. My eyes felt super heavy. I was fighting to keep them open. 

Dean

When I came back into the kitchen I found her asleep, still sitting at the table. I'm glad that she was able to fall asleep again. 

I walked over to the table and grabbed our cups and put them in the sink. I walked back over to her and scooped her up in my arms. I decided that since I wasn't going back to sleep for very long, I would put her in my room because I have a little night light in there, and I would sleep in the guest room. 

I carried her all the way to my room and gently laid her on my bed. I covered her up with my blanket and started to walk out. 

I was just about to shut the door when I heard her call my name. 

“Dean?”

“What's up?” I walked back into the room so she could see me better.

“Is there any way you could sleep in here with me? I just really don't want to be alone.” 

“Yeah, sure. I'll just go grab the pillow and blanket from the guest room so I can sleep on the floor.”

“No, no, I'll sleep on the floor. This is your house, your room.” she started to get up.

“No, you stay there, you're the lady and the guest. Trust me, I've slept way worse.”

“Are you sure?” I could hear her start to fall asleep again. It was honestly really cute.

What?

No. She's a witch.

What am I talking about?

I opened the guest room door and grabbed the pillow and blanket and walked back to my room.

When I got back in there she was knocked out, so I quietly placed the pillow on the floor and went to sleep.