#so hoping that goes swimmingly

[cuartist]

yesterday i finished up the upcoming mobile episode and it's the one with kesa's birthday bonus and since the episode is Posting in september i wrote his bday as sept 24th instead of august...

that man is Not a libra

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[eldritch-spouse]

Next part to [this series]

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TW: Kidnapping; Descriptions of gore.

He watches you put the cup back down.

It had been a bad decision to give you a taste of such. Hudsyn can admit that much.

Could he be blamed however, in his want to make you appreciate your time with him more? An angel's tears- The delicacy of times forgotten, something both holy and blasphemous, rich spoils only he can gift you. Can you even comprehend the magnitude of what he's offered you?

The two of you, enjoying a priceless commodity, one which no other common mortals in this world can even conceive of in this day and age. It's poetic, it signifies your importance, your achievements to come- It's romantic, dare Hudd say.

And yet, it was also a mistake. More and more, he gets painfully reminded of the risks of romanticism, of letting that little spark of pride in him -What's left of it- Blind him to reality, sideline his goals. Hudsyn's never wanted to impress someone as badly as he does you and it shows. Perhaps to you it doesn't, but to the few who know him, it'd be the most glaringly obvious slap to the face.

Point being, that drink had its uses. It was meant to keep you lulled, susceptible, easy to grasp his meanings and emotions. He didn't plan for the possibility of him being unable to keep his feelings in check, which, to be fair, isn't something Hudd often has to worry about to begin with. They bled into you, some less pretty things dancing around his excited mind… Put you on edge, overwhelmed you. Whatever channel was formed between you two was interrupted by something else at the end, something Hudd desperately hopes he can keep at bay now that you've obediently placed the cup down.

Dangerous. Dangerous unknowable variables. Thorns.

That cup. He wanted to blurt out the oh so riveting references it possessed instantly, but far be it of the demonoid to prematurely ruin a surprise. The feathers, the eye, the celestial tears- Oh, it's in moments like this that he can't help sing his own praises. He's charming. He's clever.

Hudsyn admits he's been stalling.

Not that it's detrimental to his goal, he was entirely honest when he told you that you still had a nick of time to converse before things got serious. And it's only natural he'd want to take advantage of every second he so graciously granted the two of you to ground himself, to calm down, to focus. Because, as he said, you're about to do something very very special together. It's a tricky situation, but if it all goes swimmingly, you'll be the ones to fix Hell's murky history, to finally glimpse into the world before monsters, before abandonment, before sin. Translating it into scripture.

The one true scripture of the world that formed Perdition.

Just thinking about it has Hudd a little emotional. Okay, very emotional.

Can he cry? These eyes, the way they work… Hudd has wept enough. Perhaps angels can weep in his stead now.

To think that you'll do this with him, for him, his darling precious mentee- There for him always, understanding, empathetic, a breath of much needed fresh air for his starved lungs and unfortunately also the bane of his loins. It's been too long since the demonoid was this consistently aroused. A state that should disgust him, yet the images conjured in his mind never seem to let him get rightfully upset. Oh, you and him will be beautiful. You will make everyone proud. Hudd only wishes he could make you see that now, take away the little seed of doubt he sometimes sees in your eyes. You need never doubt him, he knows best, and you've been aware of such up until now too.

" Mentee. " He starts, after a pause. " We ought to get to work. "

There. Focus. Good.

When you look at him, hues betraying an inner battle, hesitant yet curious, he really cannot fault you. For as much as Hudd has spent small eternities planning this day from start to finish, he alone cannot guarantee its success. You play too large a part to do so, without you, without your cooperation, everything will be so needlessly hard.

And yet… In the time he's come to know you, Hudd’s sixth sense hasn't technically failed him. You fit the profile of someone he needs for this kind of thing. Why, at times, you even revealed yourself as knowing more than any ordinary human should.

You wouldn't just walk out. Wouldn't get in his way.

You're better than that. You're intelligent enough to understand, you will know to make the correct choices when the time comes.

He trusts you with the most important moment of his life.

And the realization sends a rattling shiver down his spine.

When he stands up, so do you.

This has been scaring you a little.

Hudd was never someone you'd consider easy to read, not exactly an open book, even if he seemed to want to be transparent at times. Intriguing, cultured, fascinating and… Unsafe. Frantic. Invasive.

Hudd is a man on a mission, that much has been clear from day one.

And the depths of his dedication are something you're only truly grasping now, after being… Kidnapped, into this location. After becoming a part of his project.

The historian had yet to lay a hand on you. There's no immediate danger, only tension, unease- And that ever present morbid curiosity that begs you to discard any crumb of self-preservation you have.

What were the images you saw in his mind? Why did you see those things?

Who talked to you?

Help. Who asked for your help?

" What are we doing? " Something you feel the need to ask again. Maybe this time you'll get an answer.

The demonoid pauses, a hint of irritation flashing there for a moment. " Follow me, if you will, there are some things you need to see to understand, and I do not enjoy wasting breath. "

That robe-clad form turns towards that hall again. The voice… It came from there. No, you heard it in your mind, but the fact that it beckoned you to glance that way... Does something loom there? Hidden in that thick blanket of darkness that threatens to swallow the rest of the room? Whatever it is, if it is there at all, sounded small. Helpless. Corralled.

Desperation, but entirely unlike the one you felt in Hudsyn.

" My, are you really that tired? I need you to make an effort to keep up with me here, Mentee. This is important. “ The demon tuts again, coming closer to you. It's odd, you've never really paid that much attention to the difference in heights between yourself and the historian up until now.

He's taller than you. Not by that much. If you had to guess, around the six foot mark, six foot something. But those horns, the way they curve over his head like great symmetrical arches, the pitch black canvas of his face and the mystery of what lies beneath, what he tries to cover thoroughly enough to never wear anything other than those plain robes. Hudd is a tad creepy.

“ You won't forgive yourself if you falter during this. “ He warns, stern.

There's a gulp, you don't like the way he's talking. It's very clear you'll be doing something risky eventually, and you don't particularly want to chance being harmed. The fear has to be evident in your face, because he continues.

“ I have mulled over this for more years than you have been alive, protégé… So long as you follow my instructions, everything will go perfectly, and we'll emerge with the answers we need. “

A pallid palm extends in your direction, fingers curling slightly and claws glinting. “ I chose you because I know you are capable of doing this with me. Come. “

And, maybe because you can’t control your rabid curiosity anymore, maybe just because he believes in you so much, you take that hand in yours.

It feels like the seal of a promise, a contract officialized in impulsive compassion.

What would happen if you denied him now anyway? You haven’t the faintest idea where you are, bereft of any personal belongings except the very pajamas you went to bed with. Could you find a way out of his home if things went south? Could you find help in time? Would Hudd hurt you? Or… Would he simply drop you back home?

No, this is too important to him, you’re not willing to believe breaking the perception he has of your “potential” is something the demonoid would take very well.

He smiles, nodding.

Pulled along by said hand, its hold more of a periodic squeeze than anything, you’re guided into that hall. And, as soon as you set foot in said ambiguous darkness, the shabby lamp that furnishes the wall at its very edge crackles loudly, the bulb within it giving its last few sparks of light before becoming utterly useless. In that moment, you truly become submerged in a sea of blackness, unable to pinpoint where you're going at all. Hudd, on the other hand, seems hardly bothered by the change. Perks of being a demon, you presume…

When you step over something that creaks, your hand instinctively tightens around the historian's, causing him to audibly halt.

“ Oh… “ He starts, a giddy hint lying there. “ You can't see very well, can you? “

" No. "

“ Forgive the lapse, this house… It's been a while since I did maintenance checks on it. Here, I will guide you, mentee. “

A warmth envelops your side, one of Hudd's hands presumably sets on your right shoulder and the other balances your front. The sensation of those pointed claws poking through your pajamas is mildly stressing. If he were to put the smallest amount of pressure on them, he could probably draw blood.

The demonoid's closeness is a tad confusing, the only thing audible now being soft footfalls and his slightly uneven breathing. Why not just get a flashlight? Does he seriously not have any?

A sudden intake of air has the hairs on your back rising. You'd rather stumble through the dark than feel this stifling hold upon your form. Hudd hasn't said a word but he feels and sounds even more excited than before. Like this, you are once more reminded of your short-comings as a human, and how every one of them is against you if you were to attempt to flee.

“ There's a staircase ahead, you should… Grab onto me. “

Ah, that makes a little more sense.

He wasn’t lying, because sure enough, you feel the first step, as well as his hands tightening around your body. Although your arms spread in an attempt to perhaps find a wall or a handrail, you’re unable to, having to pace yourself and take Hudd’s advice instead.

“ I won’t lie, sometimes I do forget how fragile humans are. Just look at you, blind like a bat, a fall from this staircase would probably break more than a few bones. Hm… Now that I think about it, you could die, if you fell just the wrong way. “

What the Hell is his problem right now…

“ Ah, I didn’t mean to alarm you. “ He has the nerve to say, helping you down yet another step. “ Besides, I’m here, I would never let that happen to you. “

Reassuring. Totally.

Just how many steps does this staircase have? Maybe having no vision alters your perception of time, or maybe he's descending at a snail's pace, but it feels as if you've been going down for too long. You're antsy.

“ In any case, it's rather convenient the lights aren't working very well in this next area. A different kind of lighting is necessary for it all to work. “

It all… You still don't know what he's on about.

When it feels as though you two have finally reached another division, a pause unfolds. Instead of letting you go, you feel him move to stand behind you, silently. Both of his arms shift to now hold you against him by the waist. Sensory experiences heightened by the lack of visual input, the soft rise and fall of his chest is felt clearly, as is the shape of a rather thin build behind those deceitful robes.

Seconds pass in this stillness. Part of you is hoping he'll reach for some kind of light switch on the wall or continue to guide you somewhere else, but all the demon seems content to do is stand there. If you didn't know better, you'd say he's lost too, or falling asleep.

" ... Hudd? "

No response.

" What's happening now...? "

For a few more moments, he doesn't make a peep. The very second you're considering ripping yourself free of his grasp, the monster finally speaks.

" I've been waiting for this long enough that it almost feels like a dream, you know? "

" H- Huh? "

" Shh... "

A palm slithers up your front, a finger tapping at your chin before softly resting on bottom lip.

" Ever since that night, actually. "

You figure he's going to enter another one of his long-winded speeches, so it's better to just let it happen.

" At the time, fool that I was, my act of theft was done out of spite. I wanted to save my dignity, to lash out in the only real way I could before disappearing... " He sighs. " Turns out what I unknowingly got my hands on was the very key to my success. To proving everyone wrong. To be more than any of those worthless, cowardly animals ever could amount to- "

His tone dips to a growl so bitter it drips poison.

" For decades, I have been putting everything together, down to the last detail. Mentee, I've translated ancient infernal enough times that it could be my mother tongue by now... "

There's shifting, warmth reaches the side of your face. When he opens his mouth again, a dialect you can't make heads or tails of is whispered into your ears. It's harsh and grating, aggressive, filthy. It makes you want to scratch your face.

" There was a time when things were so different. It's almost hard to conceive of now... I ventured into a place I should never have, according to them, but it opened my eyes. Perhaps I didn't leave unscathed, but it gave me the courage to do what I'm doing now, to do everything that has lead up to this. And even, to seek you out. "

" I persevered. I didn't let them dictate what I should do, I didn't let them define my actions or even continue to punish me for daring to make a breakthrough! "

His hands move again, this time to grab yours and place them on your front, wrapped by his.

" Perhaps it doesn't matter to you, but I want you to know that I've lost a lot in this search, and you can't fathom how much getting this far means to me. "

" I know you're scared. In the past, I would also see this as something frightening. But both our fates will rely on one thing alone today, your ability to listen to me. "

" O- Okay. "

You're not sure what to say to that, or even if you should pry into what little of his past this demon has let slip.

" Are you ready, protégé? "

What use is there stalling anymore? You can't even go back up the stairs alone. " ... Yes. "

" Very well. Then, I ask you to remain calm. "

Finally, almost begrudgingly even, Hudd detaches from you, moving fluidly in the darkness, the sound of a match being lit resounding across the walls. Little by little, candle flames soar, you can see the silhouette of his horns as the historian moves to quickly create a dimly lit atmosphere in the room.

The sight that greets you is more than a little disconcerting.

This room, or basement rather, is in disrepair. Wherein the living room you had been conversing with Hudd looked rather spacious and and well put together, even comforting- This division barely has any kind of furniture in it aside from shelves and work benches currently drowning in ambiguous paraphernalia. The walls themselves are badly chipped and cracked, no semblance of paint to cover what you really hope aren't splashes of long-dried blood. Some long gashes running their length can only be the result of claw marks. Scuffles. Papers litter the place. Some printed, others harshly scribbled, pages ripped from books, hurriedly pinned or glued to walls, combed over so many times that their edges start to crinkle and yellow, text fading. Pens and markers in various states scatter on the ground.

This... This is like a madman's playground.

Not that you ever though Hudd was very down to Earth.

It feels as if just stepping into this room has drained some of your very sanity. You can picture him clear as day, bent over these tables, scribbling frantically, pinning things together, wrangling someone or something into this location to do who knows what with. The more time you spend around this demonoid, the less you seem to know him.

Opting to say nothing regarding this mess of a room, you focus instead on the larger illustrations half-covered in illegible text. It only takes you a few seconds to realize how similar in nature they are to the ones you spotted upstairs, on his wall. Granted, those were a little too far away for you to actually discern what contents they displayed. But the one he specifically showed you, the one with the angel, is similar to these.

Truth be told, you don't want to believe Hudd. When you looked at that creature he had drawn, many things came to mind but an angel was your last ditch answer. And yet, he eagerly confirmed it. Told you there were more even, here on Earth. Madness, maybe he really is starting to see things, maybe he's ill. Perhaps all this time you've been humoring the drivel of a demonoid entirely disconnected from reality. Well, either way, it doesn't really matter, you just have to make it through whatever this is, right?

He's been... Nice to you, so far. Kind of? You're pretty sure he likes you. Yes, that's a point in your favor.

The illustrations on these walls depict the same being, different parts of their body in more detail. It's a fascinating thing to look at, several notes and underlined information accompany these decent sketches of the lifeform itself, the angel.

What did Hudd say it was again, a guardian?

You confess you don't really understand why this entity looks the way it does or why the demon is so obsessed with it. Might as well ask.

" Hey Hu- "

" Ah, don't mind those. " He starts, close enough to your figure that the skin nearly leaps off your body. " We don't have time to comb over my documents, as rich in knowledge as they are, yes, you will listen and learn as we go along, yes? "

" ... Uhuh. "

" I will ask you, once more, to remain calm. "

It's hard to do so when he keeps reminding you of such. Paranoia dances just beneath your skin as you attempt to nod slowly.

It seems to be confirmation enough, the demon only hesitating for a couple of silent seconds before moving further, into a section of the room you hadn't even cast thought towards. How could you, when everything else was so jarring? The obscured right edge, kept dark on purpose you can only imagine...

A final, tall candle is lit when Hudd stretches, and something likes beneath it, obscured by an inconveniently placed desk, revealing a smooth expanse of what you can only call a head. Immediately, you take a few steps to the left, forward.

The blood in your vessels stutters.

You had expected, unfortunately, to find someone else in there. Some poor soul who, like you, had gotten the bizarre demon's attention and, unlike you, didn't learn to manage his eccentricities well enough.

Little did you think reality could be worse than that already glum possibility.

Because, there, on the cold and harsh ground, shackled to the wall with rusted chains and scribbled magic engravings around them, is what can only be an angel.

The angel.

The one Hudd showed to you only mere moments ago! The one in these pictures, these sketches, detailed from head to toe like some kind of laboratory experiment, some rat.

They seem unconscious, huddled into as small of a ball as they can be, leathered wings frozen in an uncomfortable shape, like the crooked legs of a dead insect. Something mars their pale hide, a series of unknowable symbols expanding into every limb, looping around their torso, probably following into the expanse of their back and even reaching those... Odd tentacles on their lower-half. You're smart enough to understand this isn't simply a tattooed angel, how ludicrous, these scripts are magical in nature, and they've been inflicted upon the holy being. Every now and then, the darkened marks pulse a faint reddish light, and it takes you a moment to understand that the pace is akin to a heartbeat. Their heartbeat.

This lifeform is being kept in a stasis, an unpleasant one if you had to guess.

The crease on that thin abdomen you couldn't quite understand opens the slightest amount, revealing what must be a beautifully colored eye for a sliver of a second.

You can almost begin to imagine what they might look like, without those sigils, without the chains holding their wrists up to the wall...

Yes, beautiful in its own right.

Not your first idea of what an angel might be, but simply gazing upon them brings you an intense sensation of awareness. Instinctually, it's as if you recognize you're in the presence of someone that begets authority and safety.

Never have you felt something similar to this. Perhaps when you were but a youngling, feeling content in the arms of your parents as they pulled you out of a troublesome situation.

You want to get closer to this creature.

" ... please. you came! "

This time, the voice startles you. Because it sounds that much closer, that much desperate, as if a force were shaking you from top to bottom, begging, crying, do something-

" Mentee! "

The noise that leaves you is akin to a goat's bleating. Hudd blinks.

" You've been standing there like a donkey this whole time! "

You frown. " Hudd... That's- That- "

The demonoid huffs, combing over the scripts on the floor and hurriedly testing the sturdiness of the chains holding the angel's wrists. With their head bent at such an angle, you can see the cloth covering it droop, but there's no visible seam between it and the angel's skin. Whatever could be beneath it?

" The specimen I showed you, yes. That's it. Did you listen to a single thing I said just now? "

It.

The demonoid scratches his way back up to a rapid stand and approaches you with a look so dead serious that it deeply unsettles you. " I have come too far. You are not allowed to freak out on me! "

Yes. For your own good, you shouldn't freak out at all.

" But Hudd... Why is he chained to a wall? What- What are you doing to him? " It's impossible to mask the growing distrust, the anxiety, you have no idea what to think of this monster.

Clearly he's not well, and possibly, he's not sane either. But this franticness, as if he's on the clock for something incredibly important, what is driving him to be this unhinged?

The demon shakes his head like you're not quite all there mentally. " Do you sincerely think an angel would willingly converse with me, mentee? I hold no ill-will towards these beings, but all of them would have me set aflame in celestial fires! It's not as if I could merely ask one to clarify a few things... "

Point taken.

" I had... Well, I'm not happy about current circumstances, I know I must look like a mindless torturer to you, but to do this safely, I could only think to remove this guardian from his flock. Not an easy task, mind you. "

This is insane. A flock? Meaning there are possibly more angels out there looking for this one. How does he plan to evade them? Has he thought that far ahead? You hope, against all odds, that Hudd bothered with that. He tends to be thorough, maybe he does know exactly every single risk he's taking right now.

" Pay close attention. " He says, handing you a thoroughly yellowed scroll. The paper feels odd. Where had he been hiding that? " He's currently dormant, and I'm going to wake him up. "

" You're insane. " It escapes you before you can halt it.

Hudsyn very visibly fumes, growling and tugging at a horn. A tone you've yet to hear from the monster rips from his ribcage. " Will you just fucking listen! "

Alright. Okay. Sure.

Your silence calms him. " There's absolutely no reason to fear, I have him entirely under control, all you have to do is follow my instructions if I tell you to do something, it won't be too complex. "

The silence from your part continues as you merely nod, ever confounded and doubtful of where any of this is going. That's a common thing here, isn't it? No matter how much Hudd insists you're vital to this, no matter how eager he is to have you involved and to ramble, you never understood a single thing about his goals, about his methods. A historian, he calls himself, scorned, interested in mapping out the "true" history of Hell and its Rings. But how does a captured angel feature into this?

Hudd sees the annoyance written plainly on your face.

" Please protégé. I know this doesn't look right to you, I'm not dumb. And if we had more time on our hands, if- If I had structured things better, taking into account your- " He sighs, turning away like he just tasted something horrid. " I wish I could have explained things to you better. Talked to you better. But... "

There's a forced cough. " I haven't talked properly to anyone in years, honestly. Maybe, lost in the grander scheme of things, I forgot how to along the way. "

Something heavy starts hanging in the air, the atmosphere drips with sudden awkwardness. No normal demon of his kin would say such a thing if they weren't grasping at straws, if they weren't at the limits of their mind, fraying their nerve endings.

Maybe it's pity, maybe it's sympathy, but you can't help wonder why Hudd is the way that he is, if all this time he's just been calling out for help or acting out to process something he's yet to reveal. Truth is that, unhinged or not, the demon sees in you someone he can trust with what he considers to be the culmination of his life's work and his sole goal moving forward. You are, effectively, his only anchor.

One doesn't need to be a rocket scientist to understand abandoning the demon in this moment would cause him to break down spectacularly. Putting aside what might happen to you as well.

" So... " Breaking a tense silence has never really been your forte. " How do we wake him up? "

Hudd's head snaps your way, and like a switch, he dons the most excited grin. " Easy, mentee! See those symbols on the guardian's chest? I just have to smudge one away, but only one! " His finger raises humorously to emphasize. " We want him conscious, not alert and energized. "

" Is it... " You watch as Hudd shoves important items into desk shelves and arranges a wide radius around the chained angel. He seems to be thinking of any last minute adjustments before going through with this event. It's making your skin crawl. " Is it safe? "

Crouched next to the angel, Hudd gestures for you to get closer, which you tentatively do. Pallid hands grab onto one of yours. " Trust me. I have planned every detail of this. "

The very moment your anxiety starts to die down a little, Hudsyn lets go of your hand to reach under his robes and place, on the ground, a blade.

And his gesture becomes moot.

The entire thing is black, patterns of what you'd guess is gold lining the sleek segments. It looks incredibly sharp and emanates warmth, you'd be a fool to think of it as an ordinary knife.

" Alright, get ready. "

Trying to distract yourself from the nerves steadily climbing back up your spine, you instead inspect the scroll previously handed to you. Predictably, it's not in a language you recognize. It's definitely not infernal, in fact, this feels like a mixture of different foreign alphabets jumbled in a pattern that seems random, but you're sure must hold meaning, if Hudd is holding onto it. It feels old enough that it might disintegrate into ashes on your fingers.

" ... Hey, what does it say in he- "

A flap startles you, scroll clutched tight to your chest as the captured lifeform, the angel, starts stirring. Those leathery looking wings flap harshly a couple of times and his neck twists in a jolt of desperation to stretch, to rise, before the air escapes his chest and the entity sags, wilting to the side soundlessly.

Oh God. It's awake. The guardian is awake, it's alive!

You glance at its chest again, past the light blue cloth, seeing where Hudd wiped the sigil. He's just as still as you are, frozen, evaluating. You notice his claws hovering next to the blade.

In spite of being well awake, the angel doesn't do much of anything, limiting himself to breathing as well as he can in this position. Although his mouth is uncovered, he doesn't say a single thing. The eye on its stomach opens once more, this time fully, and you can hardly believe how beautiful it is. Looking into it, a swirl of warm hues welcomes you, this gentle warmth spreading across your whole figure the longer you stare into it. Hudd doesn't seem to feel any of this, unfazed.

Much to your surprise, that isn't the only eye that reveals itself, because the odd fissures in the angel's immobilized hands part, and from them, two smaller versions of his biggest eyeball are unveiled.

Woah, you've never seen that before...

The guardian looks around. Although, nothing about him betrays fear, sadness or even anger, he's just appraising his surroundings, as if relieved.

" Guardian. " Hudd begins, tone authoritative when he sits and crosses his legs. You don't quite know what to do, so you sit next to him wordlessly.

The angel senses your movement, three eyes focused solely on you for a couple of tense seconds. You've been trying to ignore it, but deep down, you know this is the voice that has been calling out to you this whole time.

" Demon. " He replies, calmly, with no real animosity or much of any inflection honestly. One of his eyes remains glued to you, the others disperse to the infernal monster. Yes, that voice, unmistakable...

" You have been transported here for one reason and one reason alone. "

Hudsyn looks serious in a way you've never seen him before. And you suppose that's warranted, this moment is crucially important to him. You can imagine all the nerves brewing under that impeccably collected act he's putting on. He even seems to think of his body language, keeping it entirely neutral, surveilling the angel with the eyes of a hawk. Even then, can those eyes compare to those of a holy creature?

Is Hudd not playing with something far too complex and foreign to be manipulated?

" I have something of great importance in my possession, and I only crave one thing, to understand it. " There's a measured pause. To the demon's credit, his captive does look engaged. " But see, for me to achieve such, I first need to understand something a lot more complex, something my kind wasn't made to grasp. "

The scroll is taken from your grasp, bounced onto his.

" The languages of siadar. "

It's a term not too well-known to you. Although you have a vague idea of what highers are, and recognize the names of the two apparently said to be on Earth at this moment, Hudsyn is a lot more well-versed in all of this than you ever will be, in all honesty.

The angel becomes, somehow, even more motionless at the mention of siadar. Like stone, really, unblinking, judgmental stone blazing into the demon beside you. It feels like a piercing gaze, a forceful stab into one's deepest wants. Whatever the guardian sees there, he doesn't approve of it.

" I would advise you not to meddle with what does not concern you, Hudsyn. " He starts, slow, tentative, trying to pass some sense into a monster that never had any to begin with.

" Spare me the moralizing, the lot of you are mere cattle. " Hudd huffs.

The angel tilts his head slightly, as much as he can. " Cattle... You find it demeaning that we have a purpose? That we exist to be extensions of our Mothers and Fathers? There is dignity in service. "

The demon looks ready to belt out a couple of retorts, yet holds his tongue at the last second, eyes narrowing in realization. The two are playing a game you're not fully aware of.

" I have no time to entertain this type of debate. " Clawed hands wave the topic away. " And I'm no fool either, I know every each one of you can read the scripts of your Lords, you will read one for me. "

Hudsyn caresses the scroll previously in your hold as if it were a newborn, fragile and immeasurably precious.

" Those scripts are incoherent to you for a reason. They are not meant to be interpreted by anyone other than celestials and siadar. " The other cautions once more.

" Bah-! That's for me to decide! " A growl rises in his throat, yet fails to instill the terror it should've.

" You judge yourself a lord of this world's balance? Delusion favors you greatly. "

You blink.

" Balance?! You call this putrid stagnation balance? If no one else will, then I must set the records straight, whether you like it or not. Balance... " Hudd huffs. " I don't care for it. "

" ... I see. " There's a long pause as the guardian takes that reply in, it appears to have revealed something to him. Eventually, that eyeless veil shifts in your direction, sending a paralyzing jolt right through your core. " And you? Do you value balance? "

You cannot answer. The words are stuck to the roof of your mouth, which seems to dry and burn whenever you so much as try to make a sound. Holding eye contact with him is not an option, for a mere glimpse of those hues fills you with too much emotion at once.

A snarl resounds. " Quiet! This encounter is between you and I only. "

" And yet she is here. " The other retorts easily. " Am I wrong to assume you value this lesser's input? "

" My mentee and I are on the same page, you won't bother her. "

Another pause. The guardian painfully rolls his head back in Hudd's direction. You wonder why he does that, when his eyes aren't there.

" Very well. "

Hudsyn unfurls the scroll, confirming to himself that this is, in fact, the correct one. Part of you is too scared to guess how many cursed scrolls he could have lying around.

" Protégé. "

You jolt.

" Grab a paper and a pen, you'll find some around. "

It's a while before you do, admittedly. Not only are you shaky with anticipation, this room is a complete mess. Eventually, you come across a crumpled stack of blank paper and a pen that has seen much better days. That'll do.

You're about to take your seat back when one long sleeved arm rises.

" No. Take a few steps back. " He waits until you comply. " Sit there. I don't want you looking at him no matter what, you hear me? "

" Y- " Your own saliva chokes you. " Yes. "

" Good. "

And just like that, the scene closes between Hudd and the captured guardian.

Hudd combs his fingers over the aged paper again, before holding it up to the guardian's main eye in complete silence for a couple of seconds. You don't know if the ensuing pause is born out of the angel's reluctance to translate or if he's simply processing the document. Hudd breaks it anyway.

" Now, I may not understand much of this language, but it doesn't take a genius to understand that these- " He points at a section. " Are supposed to be numbers. And these- " Another point. " Are axis indicators. "

That large celestial eye drifts from the paper, towards Hudsyn.

" These are coordinates. You'll translate them to me. " Seemingly getting excited by his own ingenious set up, Hudd has the nerve to tap a claw against the angel's veiled head. " Remember that you taint yourself everytime you lie to me, bahah... "

You have no idea whether the runes applied to the guardian's body actually hurt him whenever he attempts to deceive someone, or if Hudd is just being theatrical about the purity of angels as a whole.

The guardian doesn't find this nearly as humorous as Hudd does. " You know not what you ask me to do, demon. "

And, like a switch, the demonoid gets serious too. " Oh, but I do. Start talking. "

The aged paper is brought closer to the angel's main eye, not that you think a 'celestial' would have sight issues. Yet, perhaps in an effort to stall, or simply because he can't quite believe what he's reading, the guardian refuses to utter a single word. Tension wordlessly rises between the two monsters, thick enough to choke your own cool. Fortunately, or unfortunately, one of them is vastly immobile. The large orb on the angel's abdomen shifts and blinks, he's very clearly able to understand what's written in at least some of it.

It makes you wonder.

Is it just that an angel is prohibited from disclosing the nature of any higher documentation without explicit permission, or is it that the information contained in this specific one is of such abnormal sensitivity that he'd rather remain locked in a mad man's possession than reveal it?

Hudd's shoulders quake, you assume he's overwhelmed with rage until short, raspy chuckling rings.

" I don't think you quite understand that you have no choice. "

Anxious, you begin quietly tapping the pen on an empty page, soothing growing nerves. The guardian offers no direct response, silently and slowly turning his face away. Similarly, his hues point to any target but the scroll's contents.

" Very well... And I had been so clear about it too. "

When Hudsyn sets the scroll down neatly, his freed hands gravitate towards the blade and a lump forms in your throat.

Angels... Elusive creatures. For all his often concerning raving, the demon has been consistently right on one thing. We no longer know how they function, that information has been degenerated and lost. It's impossible to know what truly harms an angel. How to effectively kill one. Some records claim that an angel can and will heal from all bodily damage inflicted upon them, that one can only ever slow them down. Others say that no earthly weapon can even nick them. What of fiendish weapons? What of their own weapons? Has an angel ever pointed its tool at another and sought to harm them? How did the first angels and the first demons fight?

More importantly, what does Hudd think he's going to achieve with that blade?

The angel doesn't budge at the sound of its' sharpness grinding across the floor. Hudd rises, you can't even see his face from this angle, but you understand that he's staring the celestial being down, giving them a few seconds to reconsider, to lose bravado. They don't.

You expected many things.

Perhaps that Hudd would hold the blade to the other's neck, slice across their forearm, even jab that knife into those bizarre tendrils. But then, it's foolish to try and predict the moves of a monster so desperate to achieve their self-proclaimed life's goal.

A flash of movement unfolds, the candles around the room flicker, and a horrid wail pierces into your ears.

It's not the scream of someone who's been stabbed, it's a harmonious, broken screech of a creature that never knew real pain. More than suffering, it's a cry of pure shock and fear.

As soon as the lighting stabilizes, you disobey the demonoid's wishes and crane your neck to see Hudd tightly gripping the angel's right wrist. The blade has pierced through their palm, through the eye that was supposed to be there. A sizzling noise stands out amidst the angel's shrieking, the rainbow-like hue of colors that ooze from the wound rapidly burning into a tar-like void. The blade... Scorched him? You don't understand.

All you know is that his cries are making your hairs stand, and that Hudd just stabbed someone. " Stop- Stop it! " You choke out.

It's only a few spine-chilling moments after your call that Hudd stops grinding the sharp object, yanking it right out and shaking the contaminated blood away before taking a step back. The guardian trembles, agony wracks him, the two remaining eyes shedding large, shining tears while the fingers of his mangled hand twist like the legs of a dying insect. He seems befuddled, staring at Hudd and the stained blade as if what just transpired couldn't be possible.

" That eye's not coming back- " Hudsyn snorts. " Believe me. "

Consistent in his madness, the demonoid clumsily wipes the knife on his robes, before making a much more shallow cut across his own palm. You hear the sound of his skin zipping apart, blinking when he quickly holds the dripping appendage over the angel's ruined socket.

All it takes is one drop of his blood.

The guardian grits his teeth, a sound not too different from the choked groans of someone who's bit their own tongue, before managing to throw his head back hard enough to make a gruesome thud against a now dented wall.

" GODDESS- "

It's a plea. Just the mingling of Hudd's blood with his own makes the celestial cry for their salvation, like a lost cub echoing calls for its' mother.

In the middle of the dread consuming you, it's impossible not to spot the veins of black spreading on his arm now, making small blisters on pale skin. An allergic reaction? Is his body trying to expel it in pockets? It looks incredibly inflamed and uncomfortable.

Finally, after allowing the angel's frightened sobs die down minimally, Hudd appears to be done with his torment. It's incredibly unnerving how he just... Sits back down, as if nothing had transpired.

" Are we ready to read now? "

" Stop this... Stop. "

The angel murmurs, voice small, a trembling whisper cradled in pure terror.

" I'll stop. I will, trust me, I'm not here to torture you- " Hudd laughs, as if the notion were ludicrous, as if he didn't just deliberately heighten the guardian's pain only moments ago. " Just read for me. "

The scroll is once more brought close to the angel's largest eye. Hudsyn looks serious, unrelenting. You can picture those pinprick white eyes blazing eerily at the celestial, the same way they once did when he showed up at your home. Unannounced, uninvited, with dubious-intent.

Imagine what he might have done to you then, if he felt like it. This demonoid has an angel subdued and wounded right now, a human is hardly an opponent. You picture yourself in the guardian's place, getting a knife drilled through your socket, a visceral chill shakes you.

" Read, angel. Or I'll scoop the other one. " Hudd turns back to you for a second. " Mentee, would you like a little souvenir from this adventure? Perhaps a resin paper weight with a guardian's eye? "

You don't answer. He's not looking for an answer anyway.

The guardian in question takes a few moments to deliberate on something. Probably the consequences of doing this, of providing a demon with information it most definitely is not meant to have. You have a feeling there's too much in that head for you to even begin to grasp.

More stiflingly silent seconds pass before his voice finally rings again.

" From the depths of our glorious Perdition, I pen these words with naught but ultimate scorn and haste, for my own existence is far from secured. Even now, I hear it all, above. Defeat, disorder, panic. I sense an age of calamity and ruination will befall this annex, His Kingdom, His chosen. "

The guardian pauses, likely to translate what must be entirely alien vocabulary into something tangible. Hudd fists the ground, not merely jolting you into action, but also reminding you to jot this down.

" Eden sings today, frivolous, mocking choirs in our skies, for their brutish extermination was successful, and they think themselves supreme. We know better, we are better, us the ones who were always loyal. He holds nothing from us, and this is not the end. May the Curator be as good as blind, for what he received was the mere flicker of Him. "

Hudd tugs at one of his horns, wheezing breathlessly.

" He remains with us, always. I do not weep, because the one who finds this finds Him. I will make sure of it. Welcome Him. Cherish Him. Make Him proud. Be more than us. Be worthy. "

" The great silence chases after me, these moments are my last, these breaths are my last. I beg you to seek Him, when the time is right, when the Dust has settled. Below lie the... "

The angel's voice dims into a whisper, then nothing at all. Your hand shakes over the paper.

" The coordinates! " Hudsyn all but shrieks, nearly ripping the scroll from how tightly he holds it. " Read them!! "

Silent and motionless, the celestial begins crying again. He knows what this will achieve already, he knows he can't lie. You have an inkling of what this scroll is conveying, and if it's enough to make an angel cry... If it's real...

" FUCKING TELL ME- "

The demonoid is hysterical. Understandably so, this is the very plateau of all he's worked for, and he's being unceremoniously edged along. You suppose you'd be half as mad as him too.

Patience eroded, nerves frayed, Hudd spares no mercy for the angel's continued stalling, picking the bloodied knife back up.

Quiet sobs turn into screams of desperation, distressing pleas for him to wait please wait don't please don't stop please-

You know what he's going to do, the second eye on the angel's unblemished palm will be destroyed, just as promised.

Time seems to slow down as your heartrate quickens. You ponder what to do. There's a heavy-looking vintage lamp beside you. It's not being used, of course, but it's there nonetheless, collecting dust. Quietly, you set the papers aside, rising to a squat and stretching just enough to grab it, the cord dragging along. The metal is cold and dense in your hands. It provides a sense of safety.

Do you trust the demonoid the same way he claims to trust you? Do you want to see where this goes? Is letting him achieve this the safest option? Do you share affections for this monster, in spite of his erratic nature?

Or... Is the angel, the voice in your mind, a way to avoid something catastrophic? A way to free yourself?

Hudsyn hunches over the wounded, begging guardian.

[cloverhighfive]

lemme bombard you with a selection of mines, short stuff, fluff stuff

Pineapple and Pizza - 8.6k/8 chapters - fluff meet cute - office AU - Castiel falls for the new I.T. guy at the office happy hour the moment he walks into the pub. Then they TRY to get their relationship to the next (sexy) step. They TRY.

Comfort and Love - 500w - domestic mature fluff/comfort -  Dean takes care of his working nurse boyfriend while in quarantine for COVID-19.

Honey - 656w - so fluffy - Dean realizes he’s in love with Cas.

Quarantine Roomies - 2k - domestic fluff - college AU - Dean moves in with his friend Cas for to wait out the pandemic.

The Beekeeper - 1.2k - fluff - meet-cute - Dean stops by the road to sleep and wakes up to a swarm of bees on his car. A hot beekeeper helps him.

The Mixtape - 500w - fluff - What happened when Dean gave Cas the mixtape.

Sneaking Out - 880w - fluff, bickering, pray4sam -  Dean can't sleep without Castiel. Sam is right there in the room.

Blooming Late in Early Spring - 2k - light angst, fluff, first kiss, post-canon - Cas keeps leaving for a few days and coming back and Dean finally asks him to stay.

Cosy Destiel fics needed!

I'm heading up to London tomorrow to start my chemo. Which will be a long day of sitting in waiting rooms and being prodded and having to sign forms I don't want to read, let alone put my name on...

Anyway! Please could all you lovely Destiel fans recommend me some nice stories to keep my mind in a happy place? Cosiness would be good and non life-threatening hurt/comfort including blankets, soup, other assorted tasty foodstuffs! Kidfics too maybe? I don't mind naughty bits, but cosiness is my main aim, like building a blanket fort of stories to defend myself against real life.

I would really, really appreciate your recommendations - thank you!

Here are my cosy-cottage retired Dean and Cas - I must draw more of them when I get a chance!

[girlleon]

B-E-H-A-V-E, ARREST US! (ITALIAN MOBSTER, LOOKING SO PRECIOUS!)

leon kennedy x fem attorney reader

warnings: unwanted advances, car crash, ummm he breaks into your house… slight misogyny in his internal monologue? ooc leon too. Obsessive behavior if you squint. copious amounts of pet names because he’s on some shit. more unreliable narration. title taken from kill v maim by grimes

an: this was inspired by the courtroom scene in the dark knight sorry hope you enjoy :)

Leon Kennedy looked like he was having the time of his life as he was yanked out of the prison’s bus, smiling smugly as he was led along to the courthouse. Some cops had to push the press out of the way as they tried to shout questions at him, shouting at the press to get back and clear the way. You wouldn’t think a criminal trial would get such a big production, and yet. The head of the Salazar crime family gets caught on RICO charges and the press goes insane.

He doesn’t get a glance at you as he’s ushered in for the first day of cross-examinations, chains around his wrists and ankles jangling.

The presiding judge arrives and all stand before sitting. The charges are read—hundreds of counts of extortion, racketeering, witness intimidation, obstruction of justice, et cetera. Then, he’s brought up to the witness stand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God, yadda, yadda. “I do.” He wears that smug smile like the Armani suit he chose today, sitting with a bang of the gavel.

And aren’t you just so cute, in your little skirt suit and button-up shirt. A cutie like you shouldn’t be in a courtroom, you should be in his bed. What a cute little Assistant District Attorney, he should’ve looked you up when he had the time, he didn’t know the DA’s office hired such adorable looking little things.

You look visibly uncertain when you catch him eyeing you up and down, looking back at the big bad DA—Redfield or something—who sits at the table looking extremely unamused. “Please state your full name for the record.” You tell him, thumbing through the little manila folder you’ve got in your hands, heels clicking on the floor.

He leans forward into the microphone with a small smirk. “Leon Scott Kennedy.” He’s not listening to a word you’re saying as you pace in front of him, only clueing in when you look at him expectantly, eyes bright behind your glasses. “Can you repeat the question?”

You look so cute when you frown in irritation, he might just eat you up. “I asked if you can explain the thousand percent exponential increase in your earnings in just one month.” You fiddle with the papers, eyes flicking off to the side. “Exhibit ‘C’ in front of you.”

“Ah.” He looks down and spots the cute little graph, wondering if you made it. “My investments turned out swimmingly.”

“Your investments.” You repeat flatly. Cute little habit you have of parroting him. “Who did you invest with?”

“Oh,” He waves a hand blithely, “a new company, you wouldn’t know them and don’t need to worry your pretty head about it.”

You freeze, not sure what to do as he flirts with you so openly.

The judge gives him an irritated look and says, “I’ll remind the defendant to remain civil.”

Leon shrugs it off, he’s made of iron, he can handle this little bit of pressure, it’s good for him anyway. And he loves a challenge.

You clear your throat a little nervously, leafing through the notes you have. Aw, your little hands are shaking minutely, he bets if he held them, they’d shake more. “This company has no record of existing before those investments.”

Leon blinks. See? The pressure’s good for him. He gives you a slight smile as he recalibrates, linking his hands together in his lap. “Is that so? Then where would it come from?”

“Why don’t you tell the court?” Comes out a little short and his lawyers object on the grounds of it being combative. He watches you count to ten before you calm down enough to nod to the judge when he tells you to tread carefully. “I’ll rephrase: I’m hoping you can tell us.”

Leon leans so close to the microphone that his lips nearly touch it. “I think you mean, you’re hoping I can tell you.”

Your jaw tenses, and that can’t be good for your teeth, a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be so stressed. Unexpectedly, you go with it, shrugging blithely before you say, “Sure.” Your move, is what you really mean.

He grins widely, amused and delighted all at once. “I had my friends do a little digging for me to find a suitable investor for our… money.”

“Uh-huh.” You shift a little, your confidence coming back. “What made you trust this investor?”

He comes to a pause—he hadn’t been expecting that. “What do you mean, counselor?”

You grin just this side of smugly at getting him slightly off kilter. “This investor has no prior portfolio of successes or failures. How could you trust them if you have no background?”

Leon’s chains jingle as he spreads his palms with a shrug. “Investing is risky. And everyone has to start from somewhere, Tesla wasn’t built in a day.”

The jury and gallery murmur before the judge bangs his gavel for silence.

He watches your face harden in annoyance. “A bit of an unnecessary risk, no?”

“Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” He throws out to see you confused, your head cocking at him as your brows furrow. You stare at him for a good few minutes and he can’t resist leaning in with a slight smirk and asking, “Cat got your tongue?”

The judge reminds him again to behave, if he does that again, he’ll be taken to jail in contempt of court. Oh, but that would be fun, wouldn’t it? It’d be an inconvenience for him, but to see the little look on your face as he’s walked away… he’ll keep that in mind.

You clear your throat and he watches you swallow, throat bobbing. “What made you choose to throw your lot in with a company that didn’t exist before the very month before your earnings increased?” He can practically see you telling him to dig a hole, any hole.

Leon shrugs. “Gut feeling. And my friends had given me good things from them.”

“How come their investments never showed up in their portfolio?” He watches you try to contain your glee. You’re too cute when you’re trying not to look too happy and remain professional, he bets if you won—which you won’t, he’s made sure of that—you’d be skipping down the courthouse steps.

Leon pauses for a long while, eyeing you as he considers all the possible answers—I never asked, why don’t you ask them, it was under the table—before he settles on, “My mistake, counselor, I’ll clarify: I’d meant that my friends had heard good things about them through the grapevine.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You say, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’ll repeat myself: that company—CAPCOM Industries—doesn’t have a prior portfolio of investments, good or bad. How could they have heard good things if there’s no previous work, if they don’t even exist before the month when your earnings went up?”

The defense objects on the basis of badgering, which the judge overrules.

Damn, you’re good, and foxy in all the ways that can be meant. Which leaves him with one option. He smirks and leans into the microphone, maintaining eye contact for a stilted amount of time. Eventually, he says, “I plead the fifth.”

Oh, beautiful. You couldn’t have given him a better reaction. Your jaw drops open and you stare at him for a long while as he sits back against the witness chair.

He’s cross-examined for a few hours before you’re all adjourned for a two hour long recess.

Cross examinations go on for five more days before closing statements come, this trial having gone on for a month at this time.

Defense goes first, blathering mindlessly about how Leon has a right to spend and earn his money how he chooses, on and on. He tunes it out, more interested in watching you pull your silly looking peacoat off and hang it over the back of the chair, dressed in a cute little button up and slacks set, your hair gathered at the back of your head. How cute, he bets they’d look cuter on his floor. Corny, but he had to use it.

Oh, the DA’s making you give the closing statement. That’s just cruel, you’re just a little creature and should be protected. To him, it just looks like a little girl trying to walk in daddy’s shoes.

You get up and shift around the edge of the prosecution’s table, your notes in hand. Wow, you really fill out those black slacks so well, he’ll have to thank whatever God is out there for building you like that.

He tunes in when you say: “You all have had the chance to hear many things over these past few weeks.” Your hands shake slightly, cue cards creasing at the corners. “That Leon Kennedy is being wrongfully prosecuted, that we have no right to poke into a man’s business and how he makes his money.”

He watches you pace in front of the jury, loafers whispering on the floor. That’s a shame, he likes you in heels, really makes your legs look long.

“You also have heard testimonies about how police have been hindered from doing their very jobs for fear of one bogeyman. You’ve heard testimonies of people he’s sold drugs to in front of NA meetings. On and on.” He watches you turn around and meet his eyes, tongue darting over your lower lip. He swallows when he sees that, stomach flipping. That’s embarrassing, he’s a grown man, he doesn’t get butterflies.

“When you take all that away though, all that remains is one man, this man.” You turn back around and point at him behind you. “No man is above the law, especially not one who terrorizes our city. We must take it back from him. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for your time.”

The judge waves a hand and the bailiff takes Leon out of the courtroom to wait out the verdict in his jail cell. He maintains eye contact with you the entire time he’s dragged out of the courtroom, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

The next day, all parties are brought to court to hear that the jury is deliberating. The next day, the same. The day after that and the day after that are the same. The entire next week, the jury is still sequestered and deliberating.

Until you wake up one day, a pit in your stomach as you dress for court and wade through the paparazzi and news outlets on your way into the courthouse.

All rise as the judge presiding enters, all remaining standing when the jury spokesperson finally answers the judge. “We’re deadlocked, your honor.” She says solemnly, “We’ve been deadlocked for weeks, nobody will budge.”

Your stomach drops all the way down to mingle with your intestines, your knuckles blanching at your side.

The judge sighs and looks down. “Then I’ve no choice but to declare the state of New York versus Leon S. Kennedy a mistrial. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for your time. Case dismissed.” He bangs the gavel with a sense of finality.

Poor baby, you look a little like you have to sit down when you hear that. Leon shakes the hands of his lawyers, smiling like the cat that got the canary before he looks over at you.

Even worse, you can’t retry him with these charges because it’d qualify as double jeopardy. The bailiff contemptuously uncuffs him and he rubs his wrists, watching you stand there with your mouth agape, looking positively destroyed at not being able to put him behind bars. He bets you look just a little like that after being fucked silly.

Jeez, little thing, you don’t need to look so damn sad about it, he’s sure he’ll slip up at some point and you can have your fun with trying to prosecute him and igniting your little cat-and-mouse-game.

He makes a point of waggling his fingers at you as he walks by. “Don’t be so sad, cupcake.” Leon says blithely, sauntering out of the courtroom like he owns the damn place. “Better luck next time.” He calls out, a smug laugh echoing off the marble as he walks away, the doors shutting behind him firmly.

You’re at the DA’s office for the rest of the day, trying to get the files in order for the archives because a lawyer’s office is a little like a church—you never get rid of anything that may be important, no matter how old it may be.

You’re in there for a long while before you go out to the parking garage around two thirty in the afternoon, your car flanked with paps. It takes a while until they let you go, having to lay on the horn until they scramble out of the way and you’re free to go. You’re most of the way home when you notice a black SUV following you. Your hands flex on the wheel as you speed up just a little, taking a right turn to test your suspicions.

They follow.

Could be just a fluke. You take another right turn.

They follow again.

Could be another fluke and really awkward, anybody ever tell you that you’re paranoid? You take a third, then fourth right turn, the SUV following you the entire time.

Okay, so you’re not paranoid, and you’re being followed. You take every almost legal action you can, too caught up in the SUV behind you to note the SUV aiming right for you on your left.

The cars collide and your air bags go off, knocking you unconscious and giving you a bloody nose. Thank God you’re not awake, otherwise, you’d notice that the driver gets out of the car to see how you’re faring before speeding off.

You come to when the paramedics are there and trying to stabilize you, your neck in that stupid looking brace as they ask you questions you already know the answer to, hauling your sorry ass into the ambulance after gathering your bag and hightailing it to the nearest hospital.

You’re given two of morphine as you’re kept alive long enough for them to cart you to the hospital. You’re in and out of it as the EMTs give the hospital the details of you being t-boned, loss of consciousness at the scene, pupils equal and active, and so on and so forth. The doctor asks for your name and you give it a little sluggishly, but correctly. They work on you in a trauma room, x-raying and suturing up the cuts on your face, feeling for any fractures on your nose and eyes and any abdominal discomfort.

When they deem you lucky you weren’t hurt further, you ask if they can take off that ridiculous neck brace—you’ve gotta fight them for it, but they acquiesce because you’re so good at arguing your case. When you’re taken to a hospital room to wait for the cops, you call your secretary and update her on the situation.

Are you okay? No. You rather liked that stupid car.

No, like, physically. Yeah, you somehow only got away with a couple cuts, bruises, a mild concussion, et cetera.

Are you safe? Probably.

Do you need anything? A change of clothes and something greasy in the morning, they want to keep you overnight for monitoring.

I’ll get some flowers for you! And a card! No thanks, that’s not necessary, the pollen makes your ears itch.

The police eventually make their way up and you give your statement, more and more irritated when they see it fit to try and interrogate you when you’re not under arrest, but that’s cops for you.

You have a fitful sleep because those lights are always on and your bedroom is usually kept dark, you like honoring your circadian rhythm. Which is why you’re awake at seven when you receive a call from an unknown number.

“This is the assistant district attorney speaking.” Your voice is a little scratchy from lack of water, you have to turn and clear your throat.

He chuckles on the other end of the line, the sound making you freeze. “Did I interrupt your beauty sleep, counselor?”

You straighten up. “How did you get this number?”

“I have my ways.” Leon replies casually, “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty.” Mild concussion, one major cut and two minor cuts on your face, a minorly broken nose and bruised ribs and sternum, but you’re fine.

He laughs on the other end of the line, warm and… affectionate? “Such language so early in the morning.” He tuts, his sheets rustling as he shifts.

You grind your teeth and count to five before you respond, holding your phone so tight you think you hear the case creak. “You hit me with a car.”

He scoffs, shifting his grip on his phone. “I certainly did not.”

“Then you had your underlings do it.”

He laughs again and you almost want to throw your phone. “You’re sharp.” Indirect confirmation, this entire conversation is inadmissible in court. Motherfucker. “I like you, you know.”

You pause, anger momentarily dissipating. “What?”

“I like you.” You can damn near hear his smile.

You pause for long enough that he wonders if the line went dead. When he checks, his phone still has that timer counting how long you two have been on the phone: edging onto five minutes. He waits for a little longer, eventually starting to feel uncertain when you repeat, “You like me.”

He laughs, just slightly tinged with relief. “Yeah. So? Is that so hard to believe?”

Coming from the man who arranged for you to be in a car accident? Yes, absolutely. “Yes.” You say shortly, eyes wandering around your hospital room. “Absolutely.”

He tuts on the other end of the line, more rustling coming through as he shifts and gets out of bed. You never would’ve taken him for an early riser, you thought he was the sort of guy to laze around until the last possible moment—but then again, you’ve known a lot of drug dealers in your time and not all of them were lazy. Dealing drugs, apparently, requires a lot of hard work, regardless of whether it’s street operations or organized crime like Leon fucking Kennedy makes most of his money. “That’s a shame, I was hoping I could take you out.”

And apparently, he has a fondness for double entendres, you just know he’s holding back a cackle. But even onions have layers.

“Not happening.” You feel immensely satisfied when he pauses this time, holding back a smirk of your own.

“May I ask why not?” He asks eventually, voice carefully level. You get the feeling that he’s never been rejected before.

You pause in turn this time, befuddled as to why he’s even asking why not. There’s many things: he’s evil, you’re on opposite sides of the law, you don’t even like him one bit, it’s a conflict of interest—“You know why.”

“No,” He says firmly, surprising you. Okay, maybe you can see why he became the Don. “I want to hear it in your own words. Why not?”

It’s your turn to pause, staring at your phone as the seconds tick by. “You’re a mob boss. Why would I want to go out with you?”

“Why don’t you?” He presses, voice hardening before he reminds himself that he catches more honeys with fly, rather than vinegar, or whatever the stupid saying is.

You hang up on him and put your phone on do not disturb when he calls you back. You’ve got a caffeine headache and a concussion headache and it’s too fucking early to deal with this bullshit. Your secretary finally gets over here around eight thirty with a change of clothes hanging from her arm and a bag of appropriately greasy food and a coffee for you. She pauses in the doorway when she sees you, brows furrowing in concern. “Jesus. You look like you got hit by a car.”

You frown at her, setting the clothes at your feet when she comes closer, passing you everything you asked for. Food gets eaten and burnt coffee gets drank first, grimacing with every sip. You can’t change yet, still hooked up to all these monitors. A doctor comes in at nine-oh-five sharp, flipping through your chart before he asks the perfunctory questions and declares you safe to go home—gotta love the American medical system. A nurse unhooks you from the monitors and gently drags the IV needle out of your vein, giving you privacy to change.

You’re summarily sent home with a concussion care sheet and strict orders not to return to work for two weeks. You’ll stay home for a week at absolute maximum, but it’s the thought that counts. You and your secretary take her car to your apartment because yours is totaled and you argue with your insurance most of the way there. When you get out, she stops you with a gentle grab of your wrist. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come up with you?” She asks, teeth digging into her lower lip.

“I’m a big girl.” You snort, gently removing your wrist from her hold. “You left the key in the right place, right?”

“Yeah…” She says reluctantly, left leg bouncing.

“Okay, then. See you in a week.” You get out of the car the rest of the way and she calls back, “Two weeks!” Before speeding off. You make your way to the apartment building—one of the most secure in the city—and buzz yourself in, walking through the lobby and garnering a few stares as you walk over to the elevator and press the button for your floor. You lean against the wall for support, pressing a hand to your aching head.

You sigh once you’re inside your penthouse, toeing off your shoes and hanging your bag on a hook by the door, trudging to your room and collapsing on your bed. It takes you three days of medical leave for you to become officially restless, you hold out for the next four days before you come in on Monday to your desk covered in Get well soon! Bouquets. You pause and stare at it, then note a giant teddy bear holding a heart that reads: You’re bear-y cute!

No note for the flowers or teddy bear, but you know who they came from.

You have a normal month of work, discarding the bouquets Leon sends every damn day. Just how much money is he throwing away trying to woo you? Eh, just a penny in the bucket; when you were gathering evidence for that RICO case against him, you saw how much he made in a month, easily your yearly salary.

You come home from a long day—your office is litigating another for a miscarriage of justice, you haven’t come home in days—sighing as you hang your coat and bag up, freezing when you hear a gun clicking. “A little cliche, isn’t it?” You move a little slower as you toe off your shoes, kicking them over by the shoe rack. “The click of a gun as a greeting, I mean.”

Leon laughs, then puts the safety back on the gun, setting it on your coffee table. “Why not have a little theatre in your life?” He eyes you as you turn on the lights, revealing you, consummate professional in your adorable looking slacks and button-up shirt. “Anybody ever tell you that you fill those out really nicely?” He says, eyes on your thighs and ass as you walk over to the kitchen.

You grunt in disgust, pulling your hair down from where it was gathered at the top of your head. “How did you get in?” You ask as you fill up a glass with tap water. Really, you’d rather go for a mixed drink or some wine, but you don’t trust him enough to drink in front of him. This is really just the horseshit icing on the bullshit cake, to be honest.

“Pfft.” Leon waves a hand. “Key on top of the door. You should’ve moved it after your assistant came and got you clothes the day you got out of the hospital.” He shifts, long legs crossing. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Better.” You say shortly, keeping space and the counter between you two. “It’s amazing that I wasn’t more hurt.” You walked around with a butterfly bruise across your nose for a while and the DA had to keep you out of court until it cleared up, but you’re fine.

He smirks, pink mouth pulling up and to the side. “Yes, quite a miraculous thing.” He sighs and gets up, buttoning his suit. Is that what he thinks real people dress like? Jesus.

“I find that I rather like you alive, not dead.” He says conversationally, looking over at you and really taking the chance to drink you in, brows twitching together when he sees how tired you look.

That’s not how you’re supposed to look, you’re supposed to look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and all excited. “You look tired, bunny.” He tells you, leaning against the table.

You stare at him for a while, head cocked to the side. “Work.”

“Ah.” He kisses his teeth, eyeing you up and down shamelessly. “There are easier ways to make money, sweetheart.”

“I love my job.”

He laughs, soft and deep. You shift a little from foot to foot, nails tapping against the counter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, babydoll.” He waves a hand and watches you bristle, shoulders stiffening and drawing up. “You can’t offer a guest a drink? I’m parched.”

You frown at him. “Guests are invited in. You broke in.”

He leans over and swipes the half full cup from you and turns it so his mouth can touch the imprint of lipstick you left behind. “No sign of forced entry.”

You’re a little too shocked to say or do anything. “Because you used the key.” You watch his throat bob with a swallow.

“Tomato, tomato.” He sets the cup down and gives you a debonair smile. “Anyway, counselor, I thought it’d been a while since we talked.”

You stare at him for a while. “And you can’t get yourself arrested instead?”

He laughs a little louder and your hands fist on the countertop. He strolls to your door and opens it up. “Where’s the fun in that? Get some sleep, counselor.” He calls out, door shutting behind him and rattling the pictures on the walls.

You wouldn’t think it after seeing him on the witness stand, but he’s got a dramatic streak the size of you.

Leon smirks when he sees you walk over to the holding cells, an unexpectedly stern look on your face. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, cutie.” He drawls, head cocking as he looks you up and down, eyebrows raising.

“So you took my advice about getting yourself arrested.” You fold your arms and lean against the wall.

He gives a dashing—and a little smug—smile, eyes flicking up from where they ogle your chest. “And you can prosecute me again, I love watching you work.” He stands up from the bench, wandering over to the bars. He leans forward, hands wrapping around two as his head cocks, still grinning like a fat cat who got the canary.

You don’t move from where you’re leaned against the wall. “You’d be wasting the court’s time over a speeding ticket. The DA doesn’t take those cases.”

“Ah, not a speeding ticket, beautiful.” He uses pet names so easily. He leans in as if to tell a secret—you lean in too, straightening up slightly. “What if I’d said I turned myself in?”

Your stomach drops. “I’d say that you’re a liar.”

“Ouch, counselor.” His smirk remains on his face. “I’m many things, including a bogeyman, but I don’t lie.”

Your face warms. He really remembers your closing statement? You’ve had two cases every month since then. “Legally, financial fraud counts as lying. False advertisement, for another.”

He scoffs, blue eyes rolling before he shakes his head at you. “Where’s your sense of fun?”

You were just joking, but telling him that takes all the fun out of it. “Why turn yourself in?”

“Easy, counselor.” His—clean, warm, smooth—hands flex around the bars. “I’m not on the stand yet.”

“I’m not examining you.”

His dimples show, eyebrows jumping up as he stares at you like you put the stars in the sky. “Touché.”

You can’t prosecute him anyway because of a legal hiccup; somehow, you think he meant for that to happen, to walk into the police station, knowingly not be read his rights and to confess anyway, thus violating his third or fourth amendment, that parts not your deal, it’s the stupid cowboy cop’s fault.

You’re there, trying to do a good impression of disappointment as the judge informs everyone that the case is dropped, yet again putting these charges—and all he admitted to—inadmissible under, yet again, double jeopardy.

Leon, for his part, looks pleasantly surprised, then a little quizzical as his cuffs are unlocked and he’s set free. He catches you by the arm after lurking by the door for you to come out, dragging you to an alcove. “I was read my rights.” He tells you, blond brows furrowed as he boxes you in.

“Were you?” You ask innocently, head cocking like a confused puppy—Leon almost wants to kiss you for it. “It wasn’t on the recording of the procedures.”

He stares at you; you watch him with interest as the cogs turn behind his eyes. Understanding clicks in place and you pat his chest twice.

“I’ll see you next time, cupcake.” You tell him, close to skipping away, you’re so giddy. He watches your hips sway as you walk away, lower lip between his teeth before a smirk crawls across his face. He walks away whistling, scuffing his dress shoes on the floor.

[mikkomacko]

more on luke and moose please

“That’s it, you’re a good boy huh?”

Stifling your giggle behind your hand, you and Nico watch from the entryway to the kitchen as Luke dutifully picks through the bags of deli meats on the counter.

He plucks a slice of pepperoni, holding it over Moose’s head. The dog’s tail wags, shoe laces of drool hanging from his snout and he flops his tongue out eagerly.

“Yeah, we’re best friends now, yup.”

Moose greedily takes the slice of pepperoni, nudging at Luke’s fingers impatiently asking for more. Despite Luke’s best efforts, Moose has never been his biggest fan. He thought maybe they’d have some ultra-connection what with having the same name and all. But the dog has always been indifferent to him.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that Moose likes everyone else swimmingly. He wags his tail and playfully barks, rubs up against their legs in greeting and loves car rides with Timo.

He absolutely adores Nico too. Gets an extra hop in his step and is always wanting to play when Nico is around. Almost every time they’re sat in the living room together or cuddled in bed, Moose is gnawing on Nico’s hair and pawing at him.

And of course he loves you. Turns into a total teddy bear when he’s home with you, and when you take him out for walks he’s the perfect guard dog Nico trained him to be.

All he does is stare at Luke though.

Moose accepts another thick slice of salami, impatiently tapping his front paws and Luke hesitates.

“I can’t give you more, you’ll get sick,” he says regretfully, pouting sadly at Moose. You and Nico duck around the corner as Luke goes about putting everything away. Ducking into Nico’s chest, you hide your laughter in his shoulder. Despite his shushing and the hand poking at your back, you can feel him rumbling with suppressed laughter too.

Moose makes a whining noise of protest and the fringe door clicks shut.

“Dude, your dad will kill me if I mess up your diet. And he’s strict about that shit too.”

Nico scoffs, eyebrows pinching together in offense and you bite back giggles, patting his chest in comfort. “Makes you a good dad,” you whisper, assuring.

He softens, but still looks mildly annoyed. Luke footsteps grow closer and you panic, grabbing Nico by the arm and dragging him down the hall to the living room. The paws of Moose clack behind you, no doubt following you and Nico.

You shove Nico onto the couch, settling next to him and tucking into his side. Whatever is playing on the TV is unrecognizable but you pretend to watch it anyway as Luke and Moose trail in after you.

“Did you find something to eat or should we order in?” You ask Luke casually, hoping he can’t hear the amusement in your tone.

“Uh can we order in?” He asks, sitting on the opposite couch. He pats at the cushions for Moose to jump up but the dog ignores him. Swatting his tail back and forth, he turns from Luke and leaps up to sit next to Nico, curling into a ball. He’s rests his head on Nico’s thigh, blinking contently.

“Are you serious?” Luke gapes, frowning at Moose. “After everything? You still pick him?”

Nico chuckles, fingers digging into the soft fur behind Moose’s ears. “That’s because I make sure his diet is healthy, huh?” Nico coos, glancing at Luke. “And I don’t bribe with deli meats.”

Luke looks to you, eyes wide and face pale now that he’s been caught. You double over in laughter, curling into Nico’s lap and Moose licks at your cheeks and hands.

“Nico, did you train that dog to hate me?”

[yellowjackets96]

the way you do the things you do / angus tully x reader — part one

summary / chaos is only natural when barton's resident misfit strikes up a bond with the middle child of the school's most despised instructor.

warnings / none

word count / 1,300+

hii! this one goes out to the very wise anon who suggested a plot revolving around angus and mr. hunham's kid, which, i must say, is an utterly brilliant concept. however, it turned out to be a lot longer than just a mere one-shot like my first one had been, so it'll probably end up being two or three parts. i hope that's okay, lovely anon. thank you for sharing your brilliance with me!

Moreso than anything else, the relationship between the two of you started as an agreement. Well, an unspoken one, but an agreement nonetheless. Somebody had to look out for the two of you, on equal footing as outliers, as social rejects, as the odd men out. No one could be better for that role than you yourselves. 

To your utter dismay, ever since your parents made the decision to ship you off to Barton Academy in order to get you “the best education available” for high school (which was made possible by your father’s half-off tuition staff discount), you found yourself under a level of scrutiny that you never once faced at your old public junior high. It was not your intention to be perceived as the offspring of the most hated man there, either, but word travels quicker than a deer crossing the road at Barton. A concept introduced to the dean on a Sunday morning ends up widely-understood knowledge by a Monday evening. You’d already been written off as the ‘spawn of Satan’ before you even started your first class. Tough fuckin’ luck.

On the other hand, Angus’s isolation was entirely self-imposed. Following several years of what his mother had promised would be a “short-lived maintenance phase,” he became fed up with the entire process — the constant shifting and forced socialization and paperwork and meetings with headmasters. Lather, rinse, repeat, over and over until he felt utterly insane. He grew to resist society’s forced conditioning of him, lashing out the only way he knew how, through acts of adolescent rebellion. Due to how much you contrast from your stickler father, you eventually saw eye to eye with Angus on this. Once you had finally worn him down to the point of dragging a tragic backstory out of him, you understood why, because, of course no teenager could possibly be interested in the art of befriending their peers and engrossing themselves in a community at their third consecutive school. 

But it didn’t start off too swimmingly.

He entered your life on the strangest day of the week, during the least-interesting possible time of year — a Thursday in late February. You learned of his arrival through the grapevine, mere hours before you first saw him. Perched at a seat towards the very corner of the dining hall, you had become increasingly intrigued by the nearby nonstop chatter from a group populated by Georgie Jackson, Philip McNamara, Billy Wolfe, and Teddy Kountze, a rare sight in the seven o’clock breakfast setting, which was typically chock full of half-dead, completely exhausted teenagers.

“You wanna bet it’s gonna be another freak?” Teddy had grumbled, shaking his head dismissively at something optimistic Georgie must have said. “They’re half the school, at this point.”

He not-so-transparently nodded towards you, earning him in-sync laughs from the more agreeable Philip and Billy, and a halfhearted head shake from Georgie. “Christ, dude. And you wonder why we’re the only kids who tolerate you.”

Teddy threw his hands up defensively. “Hey, I’m just sayin’! We could benefit from someone actually cool and fun.”

“God, could you imagine how cool a girl would be?” Billy daydreamed, practically drooling.

The shaggy-haired blonde smirked. “You’re telling me. That’s all I wanted since I first enrolled here. Would be nice if old man Woodrup would do what the student body actually wants, for once.”

“Instead,” Philip piped up, wearing a dejected pouty frown. “I’m hearing this guy got kicked outta three different schools.”

Your curiosity piqued, you finally jumped in, against your better judgment. “What could possibly get a teenage boy tossed from not one, not two, but three schools? That sounds utterly ridiculous.”

The energy sufficiently changed as Teddy shot you a poisonous glare, you watched the trio of his small-time henchmen sink into their seats, seemingly anxious at how angry you were about to make him. His scrunched-up face twisted into a confident smirk, like he was one-thousand percent confident he could ensure you would never speak to him again. “What’s it to you, Walleye Jr.? You think I’d lie about some shit like that? Would you tell your daddy if I did?”

A scoff escaping your throat, you leaned back into your seat, slightly dejected. “Well, no, but-”

“That’s what I thought,” Teddy said, his lackeys chuckling in unison, practically on cue. “And you wonder why you don’t have any friends, loser.”

Just like that, enforced unnecessary social hierarchy had left you right back where you were before, with more questions than you could ever get proper answers for.

Once lunch period rolled around, you figured you may as well not try your luck again. 

Wrapping a gentle fist against the surface of your father’s door, you barely had to stand by for more than a few moments before he greeted you, the smile that he saved for you and the rest of your family plastered across his cheeks as he slung an arm across your shoulder, pulling you into a casual hug. Due to the academy’s policy of teacher’s children not being allowed to take their parent’s classes to avoid favoritism, you no longer spent time with him every day as you typically did with your mother back home. The reunion was definitely something you had been yearning for since you last saw him, even though it must have been no less than a week ago last Sunday. For the first time in far too long, something at Barton brought joy back to you. 

“How have you been, sweetheart?” your father asked, his reading glasses bouncing slightly on the bridge of his nose as he sat back down at his desk. He pointed to the chair on the other end of it, offering it to you. You gladly accepted, tugging the seat out and sliding into it.

You shrugged at the question, trying not to pay Kountze and his gang of blockheads too much mind. “Fine. Haven’t really done anything too notable or special.”

“Well, hey,” he offered, sliding a sheet labeled roll call across the desk to you. “Maybe this’ll brighten your spirits, despite how much the prospect of it annoys me.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, you instantly know what he was referring to, your eyes catching on the highlighted name sandwiched between Neil Sweeney and Todd Wedderling, bearing an emboldened word next to it — Angus Tully (NEW). And then, like it were on cue, the door behind the two of you swung open, revealing the sight of an instantly-enrapturing bearer of deeply brown eyes.

“Ah, Mr. Tully,” your father remarked, rising from the desk to greet him. “What a coincidence. I was just introducing them to you.”

Angus snorted. “All good things, I hope.”

“You’ve yet to prove us otherwise,” the older man quipped, before quickly turning toward you. “This is my middle child, the one Dr. Woodrup told you about. They’re a sophomore like you, so even though you won’t be in my class together, I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Picking up on the hint, you offer the other teenager a hand, which he casually shakes. “Pleasure to meet you, Angus.”

The brunette offered a crooked half-smile, enough to draw one out of you, too. “Nice to meet you as well.” Everything about him seemed natural — the way he didn’t force his grin, the warmth of his palm, the distinct waviness of his mud-shaded curls. This school left you perpetually surrounded by well-off jackasses, standing where they were currently placed via generational wealth, rather than strength and perseverance, working off of their own merits as your father had. Not to say that Tully was dissimilar in that manner, but he just felt so distinctly different, like he was not even trying to cultivate a phony persona in the effort of impressing others. If only everyone were like him. Maybe Barton would be bearable after all.

[slytherinboysappreciation]

Infatuation - T.R. x fem!Reader

A/N: Here it is! Part two to Adoration! It took me a couple days to write coz I’m a slow writer lol, but I had a lot of fun with it. I hope it lives up to the first one! It has more plot to it than porn, so I hope that’s okay.

Gif is not my own; it was found on Pinterest, uploaded by Wattpad

No use of Y/N. Reader is Dumbledore’s daughter. Tom is in his seventh year for this fic. It’s mostly unedited and only my second time writing smut so please be nice 💛 Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

CW: mentions of hatred; talk of revenge plans; descriptions of male arousal and such; sexual fantasies; a brief moment of nausea and self-hatred; religious trauma, I guess; Tom being a bit of a sub; (badly written) graphic descriptions of a blow job; praise kink; infatuation with the reader

Does contain mature content so NO MINORS PLEASE!!! Just keep scrolling!!

1588 words

Tom avoids you for a whole week. It’s hard to do. Every time he sees your smile or hears your laugh, his body reacts to it.

It’s the most uncomfortable he’s ever been in his life, forced to use all his tactics to will away his sudden unwelcome erections. After that first incident, he refuses to grant himself proper relief.

It diverts his attention from his grand revenge plan. It’s an almost perfect plan. He’ll humiliate you in public, make it so you never smile at him again. He’ll finally be free from the intense discomfort you’re unknowingly putting him through.

It’s almost perfect…

… except he can’t seem to make himself follow through.

It’s not for lack of hatred. He has plenty of that when it comes to you. Nor is it for lack of willpower. It takes more than a firm will to ignore just how achingly hard you make him.

It’s just… every time he sees your smile, something within him stops. It makes him look like a fool; just standing there, staring at you. And then you smile and wave, just at him, and he’s instantly hard again.

He hates it. He despises it. He wants to scream with rage every time it happens.

His grand revenge plan, ruined by your stupid smile!

He sulks in his room, plotting on how best to get his revenge.

Finally the idea comes to him. It’s a stupid idea; a last ditch attempt at revenge. Take advantage of your friendliness. Of your smiles. Get close to you, and then hex you so bad you can’t walk afterwards.

Tom clings to the idea like a lifeline. All he has to do it get close to you somehow. And then his problems will be over.

The solution presents itself a few days later. You’re in need of tutoring. And who better to tutor you than Tom Riddle himself?

His plan goes swimmingly. Perfect. Absolutely wonderfully.

Until your first study session with him.

He’s already hard.

It’s not even been twenty minutes and you’ve smiled at him four times. FOUR! Who even smiles that much?!

Tom grits his teeth and forces a polite smile as you ask him another question about your homework. He answers evenly, calmly; despite the raging erection he’s just managing to hide under the table.

It throbs with need, begging him to touch it, relieve it, do something about it. Tom refuses.

He’s trying so hard to pay attention to your questions, to focus on your homework, but it’s just so difficult.

You sigh and prop your chin on your hand, gazing at him with a look of confusion. “Tom, are you listening to me?”

He forces his thoughts away from unholy places, using all his willpower to focus on you. “Yes?”

“I asked if you know the wand movements for Silencio? I have a hard time remembering.”

A hard time…

Tom’s thoughts go right back to imagining your soft hands running along his cock… stroking it… whispering soft praises…

“Tom!” You rest your hand on his, snapping him out of his reverie. You’re frowning now. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he forces out, moving his hand away. “You wanted to know the wand movements for…”

“Silencio. I know you make a swooping motion and then flick, but do I flick up or down?” You gaze at him expectantly.

“Down.” Now that you’re not smiling it’s easier for him to focus. He takes a deep breath and exhales, trying to will away his erection.

No such luck.

After scribbling down the answer in your notes, you cast the spell, summoning a bubble of quiet around the two of you. You beam with pride, and Tom’s stomach erupts with butterflies and heat.

This was a terrible idea. A truly, horribly, absolutely terrible idea.

“… Tom. Tom. Tommy.”

He blinks, refocusing on you. “What?”

You hide a grin. “Where are you going off to? In your mind?”

He flushes a bit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You lean closer. Tom panics a bit, resting his hands in his lap to hide himself. The motion makes you glance down.

“Oh.”

Tom’s face flushed hot, his stomach churning with anxiety. “It’s just a natural thing! It doesn’t mean anything!”

You tilt your head, giving him a look. He flushes redder and shrinks a bit in his seat.

You know his secret now. Even death would be better than this. You, his mortal enemy, knowing he has a uncontrollable—

“Do you want some help?”

Your words startle him from his thoughts. “What?”

You gesture to his lap. “Do you want some help?”

He stares at you, utterly baffled. You’re not mad. You’re not disgusted. You’re not shocked and appalled. You’re just…

“You want to…” Tom hesitates. It doesn’t seem like a joke, but he’s not too sure. “How?”

You smile and duck under the table. His breathing stops. You crawl over to him and gently nudge his legs apart, settling yourself between them. You smile up at him, and he stifles a whimper at the sight.

You look beautiful, your perfect features warm with a smile.

“Have you ever had a girl do this before?” You ask softly, resting your hands on his thighs. The touch is electrifying.

Tom shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. You look a bit surprised, but your smile grows a little. “I’m gonna use my mouth.”

His brain crashes. Your… mouth…? Your perfect, wonderful, smiling mouth on his dick?

“Oh, yes, please,” he breathes out, a soft whine to his tone.

A pleased look crosses your face. You move your hands up to undo his belt, and your palm bumps against his erection. His hips jolt and he lets out a choked sound. Even just that small touch feels better than his own hand ever could.

You undo his belt and pull down his clothes enough to reveal his aching cock. The revulsion hits Tom immediately. He clasps a hand to his mouth, fighting the urge to vomit. He forces himself to look away, trying not to cry.

You were so perfect, wanting to help him; and yet here he was, a dirty disgusting person. Tom squeezes his eyes shut, the orphanage nuns’ words echoing in his mind. Tainted. Evil. Unholy. Devil-ridden.

And then—

“You’re so pretty, Tom,” you breathe, fingers reaching up to gently trace the veins on his cock. He whimpers at the touch, hips lifting up, seeking more of your touch.

His eyes open, peeking down at you. Your expression is awed. Hungry. Eager.

You look up at him and smile, leaning forward to lap at the tip of his cock. Tom moans, fingers gripping the arms of his chair. Your tongue is hot, warm, wet. The feeling is exquisite.

His mind melts to mush as you wrap your lips around his dick. He moans again, head falling back against his seat as you start to suck on his cock, ravishing it with your tongue.

You rest your hands on his thighs, keeping him from bucking up his hips as you bob your head up and down his cock. Tom tries hard to stifle his moans, but to no avail. You’re just too good.

You swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, pulling back before taking him down again. Tom whimpers at the feeling, one of his hands falling to your head. He can’t help himself; it feels too good.

He pushes your head down a bit, making you choke on his cock. He stops immediately, panic flaring in his chest. You’re going to stop, or get mad, or something!

But instead you moan. You moan around his cock, making him shudder from the vibrations. You move your head down voluntarily, choking yourself on his cock.

Tom’s hand fists in your hair. He moans loudly, head falling back once again. Your mouth and throat feel heavenly, all hot and wet and tight. It’s so much better than his hand.

He can feel the familiar feeling build up. He’s going to cum. He tries to force a warning from his throat but all he can do is whine as he cums down your throat.

It’s like pure heaven. It’s a wonderful, haze-inducing release that leaves him breathless. Tom gazes blankly up at the ceiling, body twitching from the aftershocks.

You slowly pull off, pressing a kiss to the tip of his dick. It makes him jerk and whine again. He looks down at you. You’re sitting there, licking your lips. Giving him such a look of praise. It makes him melt.

“How was it?” You ask, gently running your hands up and down his thighs. He shivers and struggles to answer. It takes him a moment to gather his words.

“Perfect,” he whispers. “I— I didn’t know it could feel that good.”

You smile, clearly pleased with yourself. You crawl out from under the table and settle back into your seat. “Let’s finish studying now, alright?”

Tom nods and tucks himself away. There’s nothing on his mind but a lingering sense of awe. “Yeah,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing across his lips. “Alright.”

You reach out and give his hand a soft squeeze, smiling warmly at him. It sets off a warm glow in his chest that makes his body all tingly. His cheeks flush and he looks down at his hands.

Perhaps his plan can wait for now. If you’re willing to do that again… maybe there is some value in keeping you around after all.

Taglist: @jillian2003 (sorry it won’t let me tag you properly)

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 15 - Summer: The Meeting

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: You and Neuvillette finally have that long-awaited meeting with Furina.

Note: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette swimming with Scylla

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“So, with all the pleasantries out of the way, let’s talk about finally publicizing your marriage.”

You just barely managed to avoid choking your tea when you heard those words. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neuvillette stiffen.

The long-awaited meeting—or the “tea party,” as Furina had insisted on calling it—had been going surprisingly well up until this point. Admittedly, your opinion of Furina hadn’t been very high as of late, but she proved to be a gracious, winsome hostess (even though, considering this was Neuvillette’s office, shouldn’t the two of you act as the hosts?) and a witty conversationist who kept things going smoothly. She congratulated you on your marriage, complimented your dress and purse and immediately noticed Neuvillette’s matching brooch. She asked you to show her your wedding ring and declared to be utterly plain (which wasn’t exactly wrong). She even asked after your family. There’s a reason why she’s considered Fontaine’s superstar, you thought in admiration.

As expected, she asked how you and Neuvillette met. You told her the truth: that you had met at a ball and went on several dates together. Of course, you happened to leave out the fact that all those meetings were brief and happened within a month’s span, but who cared about the details, right?

But what really raised her in your esteem was the fact that she actually recalled your great-grandparents’ meeting with her from more than a century ago.

“Ah, yes, I remember them. They asked me to give my blessing for their unborn child, I believe,” she said, tilting her head as though in recollection.

You nodded. As the story passed down in your family goes, your great-grandmother had been a sickly woman, and there were serious worries that she wouldn’t be able to survive the birth. As devotees of the Hydro Archon, your great-grandparents made the decision to travel all the way to the Court of Fontaine from their remote village in hopes of receiving a blessing from her. The arduous journey and wait paid off, and your great-grandmother lived to see her son grow to adulthood.

“It is all thanks to you, Lady Furina,” you said, bowing your head respectfully. “Even now, my family still speaks highly of you and what you’ve done for us.”

“I see. How very gladdening to hear!” Furina’s voice was bright, almost to the extent of sounding fake. For a moment, you thought you saw her smile falter just a little. Did I say something wrong, you worried, but when you looked again, her expression was as smooth and unruffled as ever.

You told yourself, not for the first time, to stop overthinking and reading into every little thing. The meeting was going well. It was supposed to be hour-long and half an hour had already passed. Plus, there were snacks (apparently this meeting coincided with Furina’s morning tea time), which you were secretly thankful for as you had been too nervous to eat much for breakfast that morning.

Yes, everything was going swimmingly, and if luck was on your side, you might not have to see Furina ever again after today. You could spend the rest of this marriage in peace and obscurity. All you had to do was to be so utterly dull and uninteresting that just the thought of you would induce a yawn, which wasn’t exactly a difficult task for you, but…

You should have known that nothing was ever so easy.

Furina looked between the two of you when neither of you spoke. She raised her eyebrows. “Well? Anything to say?”

Neuvillette cleared his throat. He had been twirling the stem of his cup in his hand as Furina spoke mainly with you, occasionally taking a sip from it. He was mostly quiet for the first half of the meeting, but you could feel his readiness to jump in at any moment should you need it. This was that moment.

“Furina, I do believe we’ve already made it clear that we wish to keep our marriage as private as possible.”

“Oh, sure, I can sympathize with wanting privacy. The paparazzi can be absolutely ravenous sometimes. I can only imagine how much more irksome they would be if they catch wind of this story. But still, there is no reason to completely hide it, especially when it’ll be found out anyways. Now, we could do a slow unveiling to a small group of close associates first before announcing it to all Fontainians. For instance—”

As Furina prattled on about all the engagement announcements she had witnessed in her time, you bit into a pink macaron and proceeded to wash it down with more tea. However, the sweet pastry now tasted like sawdust in your mouth. Your stomach was twisted in knots. You and Neuvillette needed to come up with a good excuse to get out of this.

As your mind raced in circles, you suddenly felt a weight on your hand and looked down. Neuvillette’s gloved hand was on top of yours, squeezing it gently. You hadn’t realized it was shaking until now.

Raising your head, you were met with Neuvillette’s violet eyes, silently reassuring you. You felt some of the tension leave your body.

Yes, it will be alright. You were married to the one person in Fontaine who could push back against Furina and get away with it, after all.

“…So, what do you say? Something intimate will suffice, like, say, an exclusively attended ball where only the most elite of Fontaine’s social scene are invited. Oh, I can just picture it now—Neuvillette with an unfamiliar lady on his arm, only to introduce her to everyone as his wife! Ah, I can just imagine the ladies’ reaction when that moment arrives!” Furina chuckled to herself as she scooped a mound of sugar cubes into her tea. “Or perhaps Madame Neuvillette would prefer something more casual, like a ladies’ salon.”

“There will be nothing of the sort. I do not understand why you’re so insistent upon the publicization of my marriage in the first place. It will not affect how I do my job, and I do not believe it is something that is of concern to anyone,” Neuvillette said, an impatient note creeping into his voice.

“Oh, Neuvillette,” Furina shook her head in disappointment, as though scolding a child. “You’re missing the point. The people would be thrilled to hear that their solitary Chief Justice has finally found love after all this time. It would bring you closer to them, for what humanizes a person more than falling in love? Plus, it’ll give everyone the exc—I mean, opportunity to share in your newfound happiness by celebrating it!”

Bringing Neuvillette closer to the people? Was that why Furina kept pestering him to marry? Was he suffering from low popularity ratings or something?

“That sounds rather excessive. Would the people truly care so much about whether or not I am married?”

Furina shook her head again. You found yourself sympathizing with her a little despite everything. “Ugh, I’m not going to argue with you on this. But honestly, you’re not even going to tell the Duke or Clorinde? It’s not as though they’re the gossiping types.”

You were quite sure that Clorinde already had an idea, but who was this Duke?

“No, not even them,” Neuvillette said, but you saw his fingers twitch just once under the table.

“How odd. I’m sure your dear Melusines have all already been informed from the very start, so it isn’t as though you’re keeping it completely secret. Don’t you think that’s unfair to the humans who place their trust in you?”

Neuvillette blinked, as though that had never occurred to him.

Furina took this opportunity to press further. “Neuvillette, don’t tell me you intend to keep your marriage secret forever! Do you plan on never being seen in public with your wife? Did you swear her entire family to secrecy as well? What a dreadful prospect! Have you even considered how she might feel about that? You’re almost like a tyrannical lord from an opera, keeping your wife hidden away from the world in a tall tower.” She looked at you critically. “She does not appear particularly frail or delicate to me. Whatever could be the reason for this?”

“She is not hidden or imprisoned in any way. Madame is free to go wherever she likes. It is only that…” Neuvillette trailed off. You saw the muscles in his jaw working. He must be trying to come up with an acceptable excuse.

You were doing the same. Honestly, you could see where Furina was coming from. If I look at our marriage from an outsider’s point of view…it definitely raises a few questions.

“Oh, there’s no need to say anything more. I know exactly what’s going on here.” Furina leaned forward, and you resisted the urge to squirm in your seat. Had she caught on to the truth?

She pointed her teaspoon at Neuvillette. “You’re too selfish!”

“Huh?” you couldn’t help but exclaim. Neuvillette, selfish? Those two words didn’t belong in the same sentence.

“Selfish may be too harsh of a word. Perhaps…inflexible? Unable to change? Well, putting that aside, I have hoped that being in a romantic relationship might have forced you to change your ways, but I suppose it can’t be helped. It’s difficult to change when you’ve been distanced from humans for so long. But, fear not, I, the Regina of All Waters and All Peoples, shall help you in this endeavour. I’ll save this failing marriage!”

“Failing marriage…?” Neuvillette repeated slowly.

“It’s not failing yet, but in my opinion, it is certainly heading in that direction if nothing changes. I’ve witnessed many a divorce in my day, and I can tell you that many of them are caused by prioritizing one’s desires over one’s spouse. After all, isn’t that what love is about? Sacrificing your own comfort for the one you love? You married this woman because you love her, yes? Surely you’d do anything for her?”

Oh, Archons. She’s cornered Neuvillette in a tough spot. If he said yes, he would not only be lying to his superior, but also opening the door to a whole new set of complications that would be difficult to get through. But if he said no, well…

Either way, it would only raise suspicions.

“I…” Neuvillette was blinking rapidly. You saw him briefly glance at you, saw his fingers clench and unclench around the stem of his cup. Even taking his time to answer this question was enough to be suspect.

You had to step in. “Your concern is greatly appreciated, Lady Furina, but there is no need for you to worry about us. I’m perfectly content with the way things are. Neither of us are the type to enjoy socializing very much, so this arrangement is perfect for me. I have no desire to force him to do things that cause him discomfort.”

Furina stared at you for a moment. You tried your best to hold her gaze and look resolute, but her heterochromatic eyes disconcerted you. It felt as though they were probing you for all your secrets, turning out all of your lies. Or maybe you were falling into them as one was falling into an abyss.

I never lied, you reminded yourself. I’ve only told the truth. It’s not my fault if she doesn’t like it.

Her reaction, however, was completely unexpected.

“You poor thing!” she exclaimed, clutching her hands to her chest. “It’s worse than I expected. I can only imagine how difficult it has been for you! No wonder you two barely seem like a loving couple. Ah, but there is no need to suffer in silence for any longer, for I, the God of Justice, shall serve as your advocate.”

You felt your mouth dropping open in shock. What was she talking about? You took another glance at Neuvillette and saw that he looked as clueless as you felt.

Furina continued, heedless of your confusion. “Born into an impoverished family, overlooked on the marriage market and almost forced into eternal spinsterhood—what an unfortunate life you’ve lived! And just when it seemed that you’ve attained lifelong happiness and freedom by attaining the affections of the most eligible bachelor in Fontaine and having him marry you, you’re stuffed away in his house like an old antique, forced to cater to his whims out of the fear that he’ll cast you aside if you displease him. Oh yes, I understand perfectly now. It’s something out of a classic romance novel. But do not fret, my dear lady, I shall ensure that Neuvillette shapes up and becomes a proper husband who will spoil you as you deserve!”

Impoverished? I suppose a god would have a different standard of wealth, but still… You had heard of other noble families that were forced to sell off their estates and assets and live on the charity of relatives just to pay off their debts. She isn’t entirely wrong about the other stuff, although I wouldn’t describe being a spinster as a “doom.”

“Furina—” Neuvillette began, but she cut him off.

“My dear Iudex, I know that the whole ‘aloof and mysterious’ persona has done wonders for your popularity among women, but that will not do at all in a romantic relationship! You have to be straightforward and overt in your affections. You must prioritize your wife along with your job. Have you showered her with gifts and compliments? Have you told her you love her every single day? The dress and purse are a good start—” you decided to keep silent about the fact that you were the one who had bought those items (though it was with Neuvillette’s money, so in a roundabout way, he did buy them for you)— “But there needs to be more extravagance. And dates! I know very well that you can easily rearrange your schedule to allow for a date every week. And as for physical affection…well, I shall not broach a couple’s privacy, but I believe the research materials I’ve provided you with should supply ample ideas.”

She gave you two a meaningful look. If you were in a more proper state of mind, you might have blushed at what she was suggesting. Instead, you felt like you had just been assailed by a series of tidal waves.

“Ah, perhaps I’m expecting too much from your very first romantic relationship,” Furina nodded, even as you reeled from that revelation. Did that mean Neuvillette had only ever had one-night stands? That seemed terribly unlikely, but you didn’t know much about his love life in the first place. “Oh well, I’ll just have to guide you more firmly. What do you say to weekly meetings regarding this topic?”

“Furina, I understand that you believe you have good intentions, but you haven’t the right to—”

 “As a matter of fact, I think I do. After all, you never would have even thought of marrying this woman if it weren’t for me, right?”

“I…cannot deny that.”

“That’s right. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be moping around all by yourself, never knowing that you could have attained happiness if you simply put yourself forward. Well, I won’t let you ruin it, now that you have it. And you,” Furina turned her attention to you. “You should not be afraid to demand more from Neuvillette. You hold the heart of the Chief Justice in your hands, after all. Have more confidence! He’s too much of a recluse, you know, and hardly spends time with the people, even though they’re so eager to get to know him. Any woman would be eager to show off such a prize of a husband. What’s stopping you? You can’t spend your whole life being a wallflower, you know.”

Wallflower. Now that was a word you heard far too many times throughout your life. The painful memories you tried so hard to lock away came flooding back. Sitting near the wall, waiting in desperation, hoping…

“You truly have gone too far, Furina,” Neuvillette was glaring at her, his jaw clenched. His hand was still gripping yours. “It is one thing to criticize me, but it is another to speak in such a way to Madame.”

Even though Furina was accusing him of being someone he wasn’t, even though he could simply tell her the truth to clear this up, he was determined to defend you and your dignity until the very end.

A rush of guilt, accompanied by shameful relief, welled up inside you. The fabric of your dress scratched at your skin, as though you were wearing a burlap sack instead of a pretty frock. Sweat beaded your back, even though it was cool in the room.

If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t be in this situation. If only you had been more prepared, more eloquent, perhaps you could have come up with a satisfying explanation for everything. If you were prettier, more charming—someone who wasn’t you, then Neuvillette wouldn’t be…

My dear child, are you hearing yourself right now? Your old teacher’s voice, chiding but playful, sounded in your head. It felt like a cool, refreshing wind. Take a pause and look at this objectively.   

She was right. You were being irrational. Neuvillette hadn’t been forced to marry you. He chose you of his own accord, knowing full well who you were and what he was getting into, and you accepted his proposal. This marriage was temporary from the start. Reasonably, you shouldn’t be heeding Furina’s words, as they didn’t apply to your marriage.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you felt. It was clear that what Furina was truly looking for was entertainment, despite all of her claims to the contrary about wanting him to find happiness. You and Neuvillette were like puppets on a wooden stage for her to manipulate as she saw fit.

Having to adapt to circumstances beyond your control was one thing, but being made to dance to the whims of someone else, just because they believed they had the right to do so, was infuriating.

You promised him once that you would make sure his life remained as unchanged as possible, and you were more determined than ever to keep it.

And long before that, you had promised yourself that you would never be beholden to anyone, that you would walk your own path, under your own power.

Furina was still speaking. “What a shame, I have hoped that marriage might induce you to change your ways, but alas… do at least think of your poor wife. Do you truly want her to wither away in your house, unable to flourish?”

At the beginning of this meeting, you had been somewhat awed by being in the presence of the Hydro Archon, but now that awe was being replaced by indignance.

“As the wife in question, may I say something?” your words came out sharper than you expected. You straightened up in your seat, making your back ramrod straight and looking directly at Furina. Anger roiled in the pit of your stomach, but you reminded yourself to watch your tongue. Even Neuvillette wouldn’t be able to protect you if you spoke too much out of turn.

“Yes?” Furina nodded towards you, leaning back in her chair. “Go on, what is it?”

“I shall be blunt here, Lady Furina. I have no need for your pity. As Neuvillette has repeated over and over, we are perfectly fine as we are. I think you’re completely overstepping your bounds, and I ask you to stop immediately.”

Furina blinked, the flippant composure she had giving way to shock. “What?” she said at last.

“It is true that if it isn’t for your constant encouragement, Neuvillette and I would never have married. But that will be the extent of your involvement in our relationship. The only people who will make the decisions in our relationship are the two of us. If you don’t like it, then I apologize for any unpleasant feelings we’ve caused, but we shall continue as we are. We won’t entertain any arguments on this matter.”

“Wait,” Furina had been snapped out of her shock and was now leaning forward, looking between the two of you. “Don’t tell me that you honestly intend to keep this marriage a secret forever? What is the point of getting married, then?”

“As the one who pressed for this marriage in the first place, Lady Furina, I’m sure you can wager a guess. Neuvillette has done what you asked, and that should be the end of it. You have no idea how much pressure he has been placed under because of you. And…” you took a breath here. When was the last time you had spoken with such vigor? “…I would much rather a relationship where we are honest with each other about what we want, rather than living a pretense because that’s what’s expected of us.”

You expected punishment to rain down on you swiftly. Furina had been known to have people tried at the opera house for far lesser offences, after all. Would she summon your family to the trial? Would she throw you into the sea instead of sending you to the Fortress of Metropide? How strange, you should be feeling petrified right now, but all such emotions seemed to have wilted away in the face of the burning conviction that filled your heart.

You weren’t, however, expecting Furina to simply stare at you, an unreadable expression in her eyes. Was she plotting something? Despite that, you stared back at her resolutely.

Perhaps some other god was watching over you then, for the clock chimed the hour. The meeting was over.

You stood up, straightened your skirt, and curtsied. “Thank you for the tea and cakes, Lady Furina,” you said politely. “Neuvillette and I shall take our leave now.”

Furina said nothing as you walked towards the door.

I messed up. I messed up. I messed up.

Right now, you were huddled in a corner of the main lobby, sandwiched between bookshelves. A book you randomly picked out laid on your lap. Being surrounded by books always had a therapeutic effect on you, but it wasn’t working today.

The tight, angry knot in your stomach still hadn’t loosened, although it was now accompanied by unease.

You didn’t regret what you said—it needed to be said—but you were worried about the consequences of your sharp tongue on the lives of Neuvillette and your family.

You should have thought over your words more carefully. You should have anticipated this. You should have prepared better so that it would have never come to this. You should have…

I’m sure…I must have embarrassed Neuvillette terribly back there.

Speaking of Neuvillette, he had not followed you out of the office. In fact, it had been nearly half an hour since you left. You surmised that he was probably cleaning up after your outburst. He had said before that part of the reason he picked you to be his wife was because of your similar temperaments—no doubt he was regretting those words now.

A sigh slipped out of you. You didn’t regret what you said, but you would be the first to admit that you had been presumptuous. If you made things between him and Furina awkward, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was having second thoughts about marrying you.

Already, the gears in your mind were whirring, coming up with a backup plan. I hear it can take months for a divorce to be finalized…but since Neuvillette is the Chief Justice, he probably has ways to speed things up. I hope he’ll at least give me time to find a new place to live… It’ll be quite difficult to find somewhere affordable in the city. Maybe I’ll try the Fleuve Cendre after all. Marie says it’s actually not too bad down there, as long as you know the right people and keep your head down. I can ask her to recommend a place for me. It won’t be long until winter, and I barely know anyone in the city anyways, so it should be fine…the only issue is mail…

“Madame.”

A voice broke through your aimless reverie. You looked up and saw Neuvillette’s face, etched with worry. His lips were tightly pressed together, and there was a deep furrow between his brows. He looked visibly relieved when he saw you sitting there with your book.

You elected to get straight to the point. “Will we be divorcing soon?”

“Divorce?” his eyes widened in shock. “No, of course not. What brought this on?”

“I, well…” you squirmed under Neuvillette’s intense gaze. Funny, now you were nervous. “It’s just that…I did make somewhat of a scene back there, and Lady Furina probably hates me now, and…”

Listening to yourself now, you were beginning to realize you had a propensity for jumping to conclusions. You cleared your throat. “…So, anyways, what held you up for so long?”

“Furina and I had a long, serious talk about her words today. I’ve made it clear that she has no control over our marriage. You were entirely right, Madame, and she knows it. It was not her place to control what two individuals in a private relationship ought to do. I suppose that hearing it from someone unfamiliar like you had more of an impact on her than from me.”

“Oh, I see…” you nodded as you mentally re-evaluated your impression of the relationship between Furina and Neuvillette. You had assumed that she was the one always ordering him around, but it seems that there was more of a push-and-pull than you thought.

“I do not believe she will bother us much for the foreseeable future,” Neuvillette reassured you. He looked straight into your eyes. “Worry not, Madame. Our arrangement is to stay married for a year until you obtain your license. I have no intention of reneging on it, nor let anyone interfere with it. We shall remain husband and wife until the time comes.”

“I-I’m relieved to hear that,” you stammered, taken aback by the ardor in his voice. “You were looking so worried just now that I thought something bad might have happened.”

“I was?” Neuvillette sat down next to you, his knee brushing against yours. “Forgive me, I was unaware. It was only that…”

He trailed off as he looked at you, his eyes seemingly probing you for something. “…I’ve never seen you like that before,” he said at last. “You’re always so calm and rational…I did not know that you could become so furious.”

“Did I look that angry?”

“It wasn’t your face, exactly, but I can sense your emotions…” Seeing you look at him questioningly, he cleared his throat. “What I mean is, I could feel the anger radiating from you. Yes, that’s it.”

“I see…” you answered, mentally noting what he said about sensing emotions. A Sumeru girl from the boarding house you lived in before once claimed that she could see auras. Was it something like that? “I hope I didn’t ruin your day or anything like that.”

“Nonsense. I have seen much worse in court regularly.” He paused there, before adding, almost shyly, “I must admit, it was enthralling to see another side of you. …And, Madame?”

 “Hmm?”

“Thank you.” a corner of Neuvillette’s mouth lifted slightly. “You’re always so considerate of me, even when I’ve hardly been a good husband to you.”

You furrowed your brow at his words. Had Neuvillette internalized what Furina said, even though they came from a place of ignorance?

As you looked into his apologetic eyes, you thought you were beginning to understand him a little bit more now. He was the sincere, earnest type who took what was said to him to heart.

Any lingering regrets over your outburst have all but dissipated now.

You put your hand on his shoulder. He looked down at it. He always seemed surprised whenever you touched him, but he never moved away or told you off. To be honest, you were surprised at yourself—you generally kept your hands to yourself and preferred that others did the same. But something about Neuvillette made you want to reach out to him, so that you could convey your thoughts to him better.

“There’s no need to thank me,” you told him, squeezing his shoulder gently. “We needed to put on a united front, and it’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me. And don’t take what Lady Furina said to heart—you’re a wonderful husband, and I’m sure that your future, real, spouse would be the luckiest person in the world.”

“Future spouse?” Neuvillette repeated, his head tilted to the side in confusion. He sounded almost distracted.

“Um…it’s also fine if you don’t want to get married,” you hurriedly corrected yourself. “I just meant that hypothetically, if you were to marry for real, then…well, just forget it! Let’s go shopping now, shall we? It won’t take long. I already know which store to go to.”

You swiftly got up and proceeded to go to the main hall. There weren’t many people there, luckily. You placed your hand on the door handle.

Neuvillette shook his head slightly, as though emerging from a reverie. “Wait, Madame,” he called out after you. “It’s—”

Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by the torrential downpour just outside.

Due to the unexpected heavy weather, you and Neuvillette decided to go shopping by carriage instead.

It was just as well, you thought at the time. We’ll get less attention this way.

After all that talk about maintaining your privacy, it would be terribly ironic if the two of you went out in public without a care in the world and were discovered now.

Your destination was the largest department store in the Court of Fontaine. It was to your sister Justine what the museum was to you. Whenever she took a trip to the city, it was always her first stop. She even had their catalogs delivered back home for her to pore over with her friends. She would cut out all the shoes she wanted and add them to the collage that was hung up over her bed. In her letters to you, she had not-so-subtly hinted how much she would love a new pair of dancing slippers. Well, her wish was about to be granted.

A smile played on your lips as you imagined her reaction. Though she was the princess of the family, she grew up conscious of the fact that your family wasn’t well off and was just as happy with the homemade and second-hand presents as she was with the new ones. But now you could finally spoil her as she deserved.

You glanced at Neuvillette. He was looking out the window, at the gray streets. He had a faraway, almost dreamy look in his eyes. You felt a little bad that he had to stay in the carriage instead being out there in the rain.

Not for the first time, you wondered about the connection between him and rain. At first, you assumed that he was one of those people who liked rainy days, but there seemed to be more to it than that. You were quite sure that he had some power over rain, but you couldn’t picture him as someone who would change the weather for his own sake.

Maybe he chooses especially hot days to make it rain, you mused, but quickly dismissed that thought. There had been scorching hot days without a single drop of precipitation these past few months. Neuvillette, if he did control the rain, seemed to have his own criteria as to which days to let it fall.

You looked out the window as well. The rain had lessened considerably, but it was still falling. The streets were practically canals, and the sky was gray as slate. You saw pedestrians unfortunate to be out without umbrellas huddling under shop awnings, as well as children laughing as they jumped into puddles.

There was a shuffling of cloth next to you. Neuvillette had turned around and was looking towards your window, his face unreadable. You turned your head as well and saw a couple huddled under a colorful umbrella, giggling with each other.

Oh, that reminds me…is what Furina said true? Has he never been in a relationship?

With all that had happened afterwards, you almost forgot that particular bombshell. It seemed inconceivable to you.

Neuvillette was known to keep humans at a distance and only showed a warm-hearted, fatherly side to the Melusines, but throughout all these years, surely there had to have been people who he opened his heart to? He had a severe, imposing aura to him, yes, but anyone could tell just from talking to him briefly that he was a gentle, amiable person, if a bit too stiff.

Plus, he was handsome, wealthy, and respected by all. That was a winning combination in every era. Single people (and doubtless the married ones as well) probably flocked to him in droves whenever he made a rare appearance at a public event. Did not one of them ever catch his eye?

He’s lived a long life, and even now there are still many things we don’t know about him. Having a secret lover or ten wouldn’t be out of the question. He most likely has secrets even Furina doesn’t know about.

But supposing what Furina said was true, then what was the reason for it? The only thing you could come up with was that he simply had no desire for a relationship. Perhaps he swore himself to complete chastity, like the monks and ascetics of old, in an effort to remain impartial.

That seemed rather extreme to you. You were quite sure that at least a few of his fellow judges were married with families of their own, and no one ever accused them of being biased because of that.

But then again, you wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that. Even in the privacy of his own home, he maintained that monk-like way of life. He did not indulge in sumptuous meals, he did not drink or smoke, and even his house, though tastefully furnished, seemed almost spartan compared to the handful of extravagantly decorated mansions belonging to nobles of far lesser rank you had visited before. His long, thick hair and heavy robes seemed to speak otherwise, but they seemed more like a work uniform to him than a reflection of his personal tastes, judging by how many times you saw him grimace or heard him sigh in resignation whenever his hair or robes got stuck between sofa cushions or between his heel and the floor. The only indulgences he partook in, if you could even call them that, were his extensive collection of imported water and gazing out at the sea.

At first, you had assumed that he was putting on an act for you, his wife who was more like a stranger to him, but as the two of you grew accustomed to living with each other, you came to understand that this was truly who he was.

But still, that’s some discipline he has, if he could maintain being single for so long. Is that the difference between the willpower of an immortal being and a normal human? Maybe he thinks romance is an indulgence of some kind as well. I highly doubt he is the kind of person to frequent, um, let’s say, adult establishments, either…you know what, let’s not go there.

Even if you were only thinking it, it was still highly improper, especially since the person in question was right next to you.

So with all that, why did he decide to get married now? He said before that Furina had been bothering him about it, but from what you heard and saw today, this wasn’t the first time she had done so. Did he finally have a change of heart after centuries of (purported) bachelorhood?

No, I shouldn’t be thinking about this, you told yourself firmly. It’s his personal business—I shouldn’t get curious. Especially after all that talk about maintaining personal boundaries.

You turned your head to look at him with a pleasant smile, preparing to make some nice, normal conversation about the weather or work or something like that, but was interrupted by the shouting of children outside.

A boy and a girl, who looked to be siblings, were squeezing their eyes shut as though in prayer and shouting, “Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry!”

“Oh, that takes me back,” you said, turning to Neuvillette. “Me and my sister used to recite that nursery rhyme whenever it rained as well when we were little.”

You used to love listening to your parents reading to you about the Hydro Dragon, but as you grew older and became more interested in more serious and concrete history, the fairy tales you once adored became a distant memory.

Neuvillette did not say anything for a minute. He seemed to be lost in thought, but then he blinked and shook his head a little, as though coming out of a trance. “My apologies, Madame, for keeping silent for so long,” he said, turning his attention to you, though you caught his gaze flitting towards the window. “I did not catch what you said just now. May I trouble you to repeat it?”

“It wasn’t anything important,” you assured him, even as you wondered whether or not you should at least open the window. He really did seem to yearn for the rain. “Those children just reminded me of when me and my sister used to believe in the Hydro Dragon.”

“You ‘used to’ believe in the Hydro Dragon?” he raised an eyebrow. “You do not think it exists?”

You thought about it a little. “I wouldn’t say that. It’s an irrefutable fact that dragons exist, so a Hydro Dragon probably did live in Fontaine at one point, if the number of fairytales and folk stories is any indication. The only thing we know for sure is that it can create rain when it cries, but I am curious as to how that came to be. How can we be one-hundred percent sure that they are connected? Everything we know about it comes from the stories as there are no reliable eyewitness accounts. We don’t even have any idea what it looks like. And with the rising sea levels, it’s likely that any relevant evidence or records are long lost. In any case, this Hydro Dragon seems to be a lot more reclusive than its brethren. It’s not like the Dragon of the East in Mondstadt, where it’s considered one of the protectors of the nation, or that dragon in Liyue who fought alongside the Geo Archon in his campaigns and transformed the land wherever it went. It seemed to have simply…existed without doing anything of note.”

It was only after you finished speaking that you realized that you had gone on a rant. “I…I’m sorry,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat.

“There is no need to apologize for speaking about your passions,” the melancholic look in Neuvillette’s eyes was gone as he gazed at you with unconcealed amusement. Seeing that, you simultaneously felt relieved and even more embarrassed. “I have not heard you speak at length about history ever since that day.”

“Haha, well, I don’t want to bore you…” you fidgeted with the strap of your purse. It was funny—you felt a hundred times more self-conscious now than you did back then, when you hardly knew him. Of course, he was the one who had asked for your opinion then, so maybe that was it, but still…shouldn’t it be the other way around? It was easier to open up to someone you were familiar with, wasn’t it?

“There truly is nothing to feel ashamed about. I enjoy hearing you talk. I would love nothing more than to hear you speak about history or whatever you subject you prefer, all day,” his eyes were still dancing with mirth. Was it that amusing for him? “I thought you were mainly interested in Remuria. I didn’t know you had an interest in dragons as well.”

“I used to have a dragon phase when I was younger,” you admitted. “I’d scour all the books for the tiniest morsels of information and compile it all in a notebook, and I’d spend hours copying the drawings in those books. But then my teacher took me on a field trip of sorts to the old ruins outside my town and, well, I suppose you can guess what happened next.”

You still remembered the sense of awe and terrible sadness you felt as your teacher described to you what the ruins (an ancient noble’s villa) would have looked like in its day and pointed out the places where people once worked and relaxed and lived.

You unconsciously smiled as you recalled those innocent times. Sneaking out of the house under the pretext of going to your teacher’s house to explore the ruins, going to the library and borrowing everything you could find on Remuria, daydreaming about how you would earn the favor of the God King and become one of his Harmosts, unsuccessfully trying to convince your parents to take you to the opera house whenever they put on Boethius’ plays… You even took up the piano because Remuria was an empire run by musicians. Back when your imagination ran free and the concept of responsibility was a mere speck in the distance.

The more you learned, the more engrossed you were. But at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel an inexplicable sense of sadness. How could something so grand, so powerful, so seemingly eternal, be toppled almost overnight because of the actions of a few people? Only scraps of ancient documents, instruments, and crumbled ruins remained of that mighty empire. You had to know more. No, what you truly wanted was to walk in those ruins yourself, to see them with your own eyes to engrave the sight of their remnants into your brain.

It was no exaggeration to say that fateful field trip had irrevocably changed you. Whether or not it was for the better or worse, you couldn’t say.

Before you had your first taste of disappointments in the ballroom, you had a silly dream: that you would have the luck to marry an adventurer or a researcher who would take you to those ruins and give you the opportunity to research and explore them to your heart’s content. Of course, you were aware that one shouldn’t get into a marriage for such a selfish goal, but you were truly willing to fulfill your duties as a wife. It wasn’t the first outlandish dream you had, but at the time, you found it quite reasonable.

You told Neuvillette none of this. It was too intimate, too personal—it felt like opening up your ribs and showing him your beating heart. You didn’t pry into his personal affairs, and he didn’t have the right to know any more than what he needed to about you.

And yet…you had a strange feeling that you would regret this decision.

“So, anyways, do you have any theories?” you asked him, trying to get rid of these lingering doubts. “About the Hydro Dragon, I mean.”

Neuvillette was old, after all. You didn’t know how old he was, but it wasn’t inconceivable that he might have met the dragon at least once. Come to think of it, his past before he became the Chief Justice is as mysterious as the Hydro Dragon…

For a minute, he didn’t answer and instead let his gaze rove over your face. It felt uncomfortably like he was reading your thoughts—or emotions, as you learned today. You felt a belated sense of alarm, but what could you do? How does one conceal emotions on the inside?

“I do not have any, Madame,” he murmured at last. “I am of the same mind as you. The Hydro Dragon is of little interest compared to the joys and tribulations of humans.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s of little interest,” You felt strangely defensive of this poor maligned dragon now. “It’s a dragon, after all. I guess it’s just easier for a human like me to relate to other humans. Wherever this dragon is, I hope it feels better soon, considering how much it’s raining these days.”

Neuvillette opened his mouth, seemingly to say something, but just then the carriage stopped, finally reaching its destination.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I’ve noticed that you haven’t touched your complimentary macarons. Are they not to your liking? I can exchange it for another dessert you prefer. Or perhaps you would rather have a drink? We have sparkling water, coffee, tea, and champagne.”

“Thank you, Miss, but there is no need. I have already eaten recently, and as for drinks, I always bring my own. However, my friend here would like a box of macarons to take home, so if we could trouble you to do so…”

“Monsieur Neuvillette, would you like to peruse our collection of men’s shoes as well? We carry boots, loafers, and heeled shoes, all handmade by the finest shoemakers in Fontaine and beyond. Our new collection of autumn accessories has also just come in, and though we haven’t put them out on sale to the public yet, we’ll be happy to give you an exclusive first look.”

“Thank you for the offer, Miss, but I am not shopping here today for myself. As I’ve told the manager earlier, I am here for the sole purpose of accompanying my friend, who is buying a birthday present for her sister.”

“May I ask the two of you to leave us for now? We’ll ring the bell if we are in need of assistance,” you spoke up, observing the stiffness in Neuvillette’s bearing. You didn’t fault the shop assistants for their eagerness, but it was a bit overwhelming.

The two women turned to you. Was it just your imagination, or did their smiles looked more forced than with Neuvillette? “Yes, Miss, of course,” The shop assistants maintained their polished and professional demeanor, but you could sense the disappointment emanating from them as they left the little waiting room you and Neuvillette had been led to.

“Finally, they’re gone,” you slumped in your chair. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neuvillette do the same as the tension left his body. “That was exhausting. Is it like this every time you go shopping?”

“I rarely go shopping, but, yes, I do attract an undue amount of attention whenever I’m out in public.” Neuvillette, looked at you with concern. “I hope you do not find it too overwhelming.”

“It’s fine,” you waved your hand. “I should be worrying about you. They were all focusing on you.”

You had a taste of this “undue amount of attention” as soon as you walked through the doors of the store. Luckily, there weren’t that many shoppers at this time of day. The shop assistants here were well-known for their beauty and demeanor that made them seem unapproachable, but they were the ones who flocked to you as soon as they caught sight of Neuvillette’s tall figure. You overheard several whispered but heated arguments as they fought over who got to assist him. It took him telling them the reason for his visit before they even noticed you, whereupon you became the subject of scrutinizing gazes that flicked between you and Neuvillette. You could practically see the gears turning in the shop assistants’ heads as they tried to guess what kind of relationship you two had. At least you were dressed well for the occasion.

The manager, who had appeared a minute later, was all smiles as she led you to the small sitting room and handed you the store’s catalog. The room afforded a good view of the streets of the Court down below. Looking around at the watercolor paintings on the wall and glittering gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling, you thought wryly to yourself that you were at last experiencing the life expected of the Chief Justice’s wife.

You flipped through the catalog to the shoe section and immediately found the shoes—a pair of rose pink dancing slippers, dotted with seed pearls and finished off with little bows on the heels. You saw the price listed next to it and winced. It was five times as much as the rent of the old boarding house.

Neuvillette, noticing your reaction, leaned over to take a look. “That’s a lovely pair of shoes,” he commented. “The price is quite reasonable as well. Perhaps we can buy another pair for you.”

You decided not to comment on the price part. “For me? No, no, that style doesn’t fit me at all.”

“Then let’s find something else,” Neuvillette scanned the catalog before his gaze landed on another pair of shoes.  “Ah, you would look wonderful in these.”

You looked at where he was pointing, and your breath caught. These shoes were a silvery white color that reminded you of pearls. Except for the long ribbon ties, it lacked the adornments of the other featured shoes. But they had an ephemeral air to them that set them apart, as if they’d disappear if you breathed on them. They looked like something that a water nymph would wear as she danced on the lake.

“You like them. I can tell,” Neuvillette’s voice brushed against your ear. You realized that he had been studying you. “Perhaps we shall leave this store today with gifts for your sister and you.”

You tore your eyes away from the beautiful shoes. “No…no, that’s not necessary. It’s not as though I have anywhere to wear them, or anything to wear them with. They’ll be wasted on me, and they’re so expensive.”

You had already bought all the shoes you needed on the previous shopping trip: a pair of sturdy walking boots, a more stylish pair of button-up boots, and a pair of plain black heels for more formal occasions. You couldn’t even imagine yourself wearing those silver shoes. They seemed more for looking at than actually wearing. Your dancing days were over, and thank the Archons for that.

They were for someone who lived for dances or the stage—someone completely different from you.

Neuvillette regarded you for a moment. “If you insist, Madame,” he said. “But I sincerely believe that they would look beautiful on you.”

Before you could say anything to that, the manager returned. “Have you found anything you like?” she asked.

You showed her what you picked and told her your sister’s shoe size. “Ah, yes, the brand is very popular with fashionable young ladies,” the manager beamed. “I’ll bring them to you right away.”

She returned promptly with a shoebox in her hands. The shoes, nestled in tissue paper, were even more beautiful up close. You could practically hear your sister’s squeals of delight.

“Is there anything else you would like to look at, Miss?” the manager said. “Might I suggest buying a purse or a necklace to go along with those slippers? Young ladies love to accessorize, after all. I can give you a few recommendations.”

You were about to say, “That won’t be necessary.” As a frugal person, you were accustomed to fending off these types of sales tactics, but Neuvillette beat you to the chase.

“What an excellent idea, Miss,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “The young lady in question will be delighted, I’m sure.”

You could have sworn the poised and polished manager blushed. “I…I’ll bring you the catalogs, then,” she said, flustered.

You gave Neuvillette a look as the manager disappeared into the hallway. “Is there something wrong, Madame?” he said, tilting his head in confusion.

“…No, it’s nothing.” Whether or not it was true that Neuvillette had never had a lover, the effect he had on people couldn’t be denied. Was he conscious of it? You peered at him as he sipped his water, closing his eyes as he savored it. He probably doesn’t.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked when he was done. “The prices here are very high. Even if you do have the money to spare, it’s…”

“Price is no object. Birthdays are special for humans. They only come around once a year, and they mark an important milestone in their lives. Such occasions should be celebrated to the fullest extent.”

“You do have a point,” you admitted. Opportunities like these were hard to come by, and if Neuvillette was willing to pay for it all, then it should be fine, right?

The manager returned with the catalogs, and for the next hour or so, you spent it poring over them with Neuvillette. Shop assistants streamed into the room, bringing wares for you to look over. Somehow, in addition to the purse and bag for your sister, you ended up buying three ties and a set of amethyst cufflinks for your father, a lace shawl and fan for your mother, and a pair of emerald earrings for your old housekeeper. Neuvillette also insisted on buying you a frilly parasol after one shop assistant described to him how perfect it was for walking by the water on a sunny day. You could count on one hand how many times you did that in your life.

There were two things you learned from this experience.

One, shop assistants were masters of psychological manipulation.

Two, Neuvillette should never be alone when he went shopping. You feared that if you hadn’t been there, he would have completely taken in by the shop assistants’ sales pitches and bought out half the store.

Once everything was bought (the total cost nearly gave you a heart attack), packaged, and wrapped, it was finally time to go, but not before Neuvillette went around thanking all the staff for their assistance.

“B-By the way, Monsieur Neuvillette,” a young and eager-looking shop assistant piped up as she stepped forward. She looked between the two of you meaningfully. “Our store also sells rings, including engagement rings!”

“Elodie!” her coworkers hissed, pulling her back.

“Thank you for the information, but I have no need for engagement rings,” Neuvillette informed her kindly, even as you tried not to die of embarrassment next to him.

The rain had long since passed when you emerged outside and was immediately assailed by a wall of humidity. The deep puddles on the sidewalk were the only proof that there had been a large thunderstorm earlier. There was already a sheen of sweat on your forehead. Luckily, the carriage was parked nearby.

You leaned back against the cushioned seat as soon as you got in. You somehow felt more exhausted now than you had after the previous shopping spree, even though you were sitting the whole time.

Neuvillette also looked relatively worn out. The heat and humidity probably didn’t help either.

“The shopping took longer than I thought. Do you have to go back to the Palais soon?” you asked.

He checked his pocket watch. “I still have about half an hour of free time left.” He turned an expectant gaze towards you. “Is there anywhere else you would like to go?”

“Not really…” you trailed off as you caught sight of a mother and son holding ice cream cones outside the window. “Oh, wait, there is somewhere I’d like to stop by. It’s just the thing for a hot day like this.”

You told the driver the address of an ice cream parlor that you frequented ever since you were a child. The carriage set off.

Neuvillette was looking worriedly at the pile of boxes teetering on the opposite seat. “Perhaps we have bought too many gifts…” he murmured. “Will you be able to bring them all home with you?”

“I think I’ll be able to fit them in my trunk,” you replied. Probably.

Neuvillette gave you a sideways look. “Perhaps I can help you carry it to the docks tomorrow morning, as your ankle has only just recovered.”

“There’s no need for that,” you rocked your ankle back and forth. There was no longer any twinge of pain when you moved it. “Oh, that reminds me, I’ll be away for the whole day tomorrow, so I won’t be back until the day after.”

“The whole day?” Now he turned to face you. “I didn’t know that the birthday celebration would last so long.”

“My sister’s birthday parties usually go all the way into the evening,” you admitted. “And you know how long it takes to get to my hometown from here, so I’m staying the night there.”

“I see,” Neuvillette nodded slowly, but something seemed to be bothering him.

“Were you planning on taking me somewhere tomorrow?” you asked when he said nothing for a few moments.

“…I have a little bit of spare time after tomorrow’s trials, so I was thinking of taking you on a stroll along a riverbank. There is a beautifully clear river just north of the city, and it would be a good opportunity to use your new parasol. But I suppose we can reschedule it for another day.”

“Mm,” you nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”

A stretch of silence followed. Seeing Neuvillette’s downcast face, you thought for a moment that he might be sulking. But that was impossible. There was no way that the reserved, aloof Iudex would ever sulk, right?

Neuvillette had been acting strangely throughout this whole outing, but considering what happened earlier today, you couldn’t fault him for it. Even so, that didn’t get rid of the itchy feeling in your chest when you looked at him. Maybe it would have been better if we went home to rest instead of going shopping, you regretted. Hopefully, ice cream would cheer him up a little.

“Neuvillette, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” you asked when the carriage came to a stop in front of the ice cream parlor.

“I do not have one, so please feel free to choose whatever you like,” he answered.

You nodded, and Neuvillette opened the carriage door, about to step out, but you stopped him. “Wait, Neuvillette. Stay in the carriage. I’ll go buy for us. You already paid for everything today, so I want to treat you for a change.”

He looked surprised, but you were already out the door before he could say anything.

Clouds drifted in the ultramarine sky, but they did nothing against the scorching heat.

When you entered the cool ice cream parlor, a new addition on the menu caught your eye—ice cream soda. Apparently, it was a drink that consisted of ice cream floating in a mixture of syrup and carbonated water. That sounds like something Neuvillette would like, you thought to yourself with a thrill of excitement and promptly ordered it along with a double scoop of chocolate caramel ice cream.

A short time later, you returned to the carriage with the frozen treats. Neuvillette sat up when you climbed in. “Is that a beverage, Madame?” he looked quizzically at the glass bottle in your hand.

“It’s an ice cream soda,” you explained. “I’ve never had one before, but it looks delicious, doesn’t it? I heard that it’s one of their best-sellers.”

As you ate your ice cream, you watched him hesitantly sip on his straw. Surprise flashed across his features. “This is indeed delicious,” he commented after a few more sips. “The syrup and ice cream serve as an excellent garnish and balance to the carbonated water. The entire concoction is cold and refreshing, and the sugar provides some much-needed energy for a day like this.” He turned to you, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Thank you, Madame, for introducing me to this wonderful beverage.”

You held back a laugh. Only Neuvillette would call ice cream a “garnish” to soda water. “I’m glad you like it.” Then, you added, “I hope it improves the rest of your day after that horrible start.”

He smiled softly. “I feel as though that meeting had happened years ago.” He reached out his hand to brush it against yours. The skin tingled where he touched it. “All thanks to you.”

“Me? What did I do?” All you did was buy him ice cream. He was the one who provided everything else.

“For being by my side, and for always humoring me,” he said simply, then lowered his gaze a little. “To tell you the truth, Madame, I envy you a little. You’re always looking forward and rarely dwell on the past. You’re driven by rationality rather than emotions. Being with you makes me realize how inadequate I am when it comes to such things.”

He looked at you with a clear, genuine gaze. You found that you couldn’t look him in the eye, so you fixed your eyes on the carriage door behind him instead. Rarely dwelling on the past? Driven by rationality rather than emotions? If only he knew…

“But I like those things about you,” you murmured. You weren’t sure what drove you to say that.

Neuvillette’s eyes slowly widened. “You…you like me?” he sounded astonished.

“Um…I thought it was obvious,” you feel like shoving your ice cream, cone and all, into your mouth. “I wouldn’t do what I did this morning if I didn’t. …And by ‘like,’ I mean the friendship kind of ‘like,’ not the romance kind, so as not to cause any misunderstanding.”

“Is there a difference?” Neuvillette tilted his head.

“Yes,” you nodded vigorously. “It’s as vast as the sea itself.”

He stared at you for a few moments, and then let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Perhaps fate does have its benefits, if it led me to you.”

Now you gaped at him. “For someone who’s never been in a relationship before, you’re awfully good at talking like someone from a romance novel,” you muttered.

You heard a choking sound next to you, and when you turned to him, you saw him wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. “You…you remembered that?” he managed.

“It’s certainly a memorable fact.”

“Furina…” he muttered to himself.

“So it’s true then? You’ve never dated anyone? Not even Lady Furina?”

He whipped his head around to look at you. “Why would you think that Furina and I would ever form such a relationship?” He sounded so uncharacteristically vehement that you let out a laugh.

“Well…you both stand at the top of the government, you’ve worked together for centuries, you’re both immortal, you both have a prepossession for blue…” Neuvillette was still looking at you with a look of astonishment, as though you just told him that you were going to run naked through the streets. “I really don’t think it’s such an absurd question, since you’re not interested in humans.”

“How do you know I’m not?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you, then?” you countered.

Neuvillette said nothing, seemingly devoting himself to drinking his ice cream soda. You decided to drop it there.

The carriage rolled along, returning to the Palais Mermonia to drop Neuvillette off. Both of you were silent, but it wasn’t the stiff, awkward silence from before. You were both lost in your thoughts because it was who the two of you were.

You were thinking about what Neuvillette said about fate. It had been a long time since that word had crossed your mind.

When you moved into the Neuvillette’s house, you had considered this a mere temporary detour in the unswerving, pre-determined road that was your life. You had kept that in mind as these months passed by.

But…is that truly set in stone? Could this so-called detour become a new road, to a different future?

What kind of future would that be?

You shouldn’t entertain these thoughts. It was dangerous. It would only lead to inevitable heartbreak once this all came to an end. But…

You sneaked a look at Neuvillette. When his hand brushed against yours earlier, when he held your hand during the meeting—you could feel the smooth edges of his wedding ring pressing into your fingers.

You thought about your ring. Those rings were made for the sole purpose of symbolizing your union. Even after you and Neuvillette went your separate ways, they would remain for the rest of eternity. As a memory, and as a reminder.

The carriage felt stuffy all of a sudden. You pushed down the window a little bit, letting in a cool breeze that brushed against your cheek and ruffled Neuvillette’s hair.

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[venny19]

Welcome to Blood Lock! Where your life is in the hands of Blood sucking beasts who would love to see you bleed and cry!!

Context reasons: You wear glasses!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

"How dare you drink my blood!!"

"I-I'm so sorry! It won't happen again-"

"Without my permission!"

"....huh?"

A nice academy where students get to learn about their careers, a nice campus, Sanzuku [Name], a first year college student studying abroad in Blue Lock Academy. This has been her dream for years, reality sinking in as she arrives at this prestigious Academy. Everything goes swimmingly, meeting new people, her new classes, the clubs, etc. She's happy with her new friends, hoping this year will be etched into her memory.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

"Whatever you do... Stay indoors and don't go out night, [Name]"

"Huh? WHY?! Ruka?!"

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Except something seems off. It all starts going downhill after an accident outside her dorm, followed by many more terrifying incidents. What will she do? What CAN she do? She only hoped she had enough time to find out. And what would Ruka do in this situation to protect his cousin from harm.

"So..... You're a vampire?"

"Yes, now can I keep sucking your blood?"

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Before I continued with this, I must give out a strong trigger warning to ALL viewers.

⚠️𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 ⚠️

!ᴠɪᴇᴡᴇʀꜱ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀᴅᴠɪꜱᴇᴅ!

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎:

Dark themes,

Yandere behavior,

Stalking,

Noncon,

Cannibalism(idk these are vampires),

Sexual assault,

Apodyopsis,

Angst,

Violence,

nsfw,

Verbal abuse,

Cheating,

Dacryphilia,

Manipulation,

Kidnapping,

Possessive behavior,

Obsessive behavior,

Psychological torture

Mental torture,

Physical abuse,

Gaslight,

Gatekeep,

Blood sucking,

Murder,

Drugged/ possession of drugs

Strong verbal language,

And many more that could be included.

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. And reminder that this takes place in a COLLEGE CAMPUS!! where all the characters are ABOVE 18 and older!!!

⚠️ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ⚠️

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙄𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙞 𝙔𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞:

“Hey! wait! I'm not done yet!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖 𝙈𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙪:

“AH! your blood is so delicious, [Name]-chan!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘾𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙞 𝙃𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙖 :

“Pitiful to think you can run from me?!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙚 𝙆𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙞:

“Leave! I can't control myself any longer!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙪 𝙆𝙪𝙤𝙣:

“Ah, ah ,ah! You didn't repay me”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙅𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙤 𝙍𝙖𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞:

“DAMNIT! I'LL BEAT ANYONE'S ASS TO KEEP YOU TO MYSELF!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙂𝙞𝙣 𝙂𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙪:

“Your skin, it's so soft, and tender.*

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙉𝙖𝙧𝙪𝙝𝙖𝙮𝙖 𝘼𝙨𝙖𝙝𝙞:

“Ah! I'm so hungry! Please gimme so blood, [Name]! Pretty please!”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙄𝙢𝙖𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙖 𝙔𝙪𝙪𝙙𝙖𝙞:

“Nope! You can't leave until I get something in return!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙈𝙞𝙠𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙤:

“Don't forget where you stand, I can always suck you dry!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙉𝙖𝙜𝙞 𝙎𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙤:

“Leaving already? What a hassle”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙚:

“OI, get behind me. Now!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙤 𝙄𝙠𝙠𝙞:

“It's okay [Name] they won't taste your blood anymore, not while I'm here.”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘼𝙧𝙮𝙪 𝙅𝙮𝙪𝙗𝙚𝙞:

“Such exquisite flavor! I must have more!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙪 𝙍𝙮𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙞:

“Ah! Shit! You're gonna make me explode! That's the dopamine!~”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙄𝙩𝙤𝙨𝙝𝙞 𝙍𝙞𝙣:

“I said you belong to me!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙄𝙩𝙤𝙨𝙝𝙞 𝙎𝙖𝙚:

“How annoying, to think they can touch what's mine?”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙔𝙪𝙠𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙮𝙖 𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙮𝙪:

“Maybe Next time, don't stray so far ~”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙔𝙤 𝙃𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙞:

“I'm sorry I kept this secret, but please! I need blood!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙕𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙪 𝙏𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙞:

“Your testing my patients”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙍𝙮𝙤𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙚 𝙆𝙞𝙧𝙖:

“That's not fair! You give everyone your blood? It's time for me to take a few sips”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘼𝙤𝙨𝙝𝙞 𝙏𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙪:

“I-I'm sorry for what I'm about to do!!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙍𝙖𝙣𝙯𝙚 𝙆𝙪𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙖:

“That scent… it's intoxicating… more, more”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙏𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙤 𝙆𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙪:

“Aw, is my little Nakama scared?~”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙀𝙞𝙩𝙖 𝙊𝙩𝙤𝙮𝙖:

“I think I'm going to enjoy this”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙉𝙞𝙟𝙞𝙧𝙤 𝙉𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙨𝙚:

“Now I know why they like you so much! Now it's my turn!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙧:

“White Roses Means innocence, and I'm going to take it away”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘼𝙡𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨 𝙉𝙚𝙨𝙨:

“You wouldn't mind if take a sip?!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘿𝙤𝙣 𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙯𝙤:

“The look on your cousin's face would be PRICELESS!”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙧:

"How sad! Your bleeding! I can fix that!"

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝘼𝙜𝙞:

“Sorry! Mr.Prince told me to not let you leave this room!”

*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙀𝙧𝙞𝙠 𝙂𝙚𝙨𝙣𝙚𝙧:

“You should've listened to your cousin”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙊𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝘼𝙞𝙠𝙪:

“Sorry like Birdy, but there is no way to fly now”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙎𝙝𝙪𝙩𝙤 𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙤:

“Shhh, I'm trying to save you!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙅𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞:

“Study session isn't over yet”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙅𝙞𝙣 𝙆𝙮𝙤𝙧𝙖:

“Your blood is delicious…”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙍𝙚𝙞𝙟𝙞 𝙃𝙞𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙞:

“Sorry to say this, but is it alright for me to drink some of your blood?”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙃𝙖𝙟𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙃𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙤𝙠𝙖:

“You really are Pathetic!”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙪 𝙎𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙖:

“Times ticking, and I'm getting hungrier”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙪𝙝𝙞𝙠𝙤 𝙔𝙪𝙯𝙪:

“How idiotic to think you can fool me?”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝘼𝙞𝙠𝙪 𝙃𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙯𝙪:

“With that scent? It's not going to be easy for you darling”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙖 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙟𝙞:

“Please don't leave me!”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙏𝙖𝙞𝙜𝙖 𝙏𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙯𝙖𝙠𝙞:

“I can smell you MILES AWAY! And you still can't get away from me!”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝘼𝙠𝙞𝙧𝙖 𝙀𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙟𝙞:

“I don't think it's going to be hard for me, knowing I say will go according as planned”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙎𝙤𝙠𝙪𝙧𝙖 𝙏𝙚𝙩𝙨𝙪:

“I’ve already told you, you can never leave”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙏𝙚𝙧𝙪 𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙯𝙖𝙩𝙤:

“Can I please have more blood!!”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙄𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞 𝙒𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞:

“This is payback for what your cousin did to me”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙈𝙞𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙪 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙞:

“Buddha, if you're seeing this, I'm sorry what I'm about to do”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙪 𝙃𝙖𝙮𝙖𝙩𝙚:

“I'll give you a headstart, but let you know you can't escape me”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙆𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙢𝙖 𝙉𝙞𝙤:

“To think you're blood is all that! But looking at you right now! I think I'm going to have a feast!”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝘾𝙝𝙤:

“Screaming is not going to save you”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

𝙏𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙞 𝙉𝙚𝙧𝙪:

“It's best if you left! Please! Save yourself!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙋𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙤 𝘾𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙯:

“Sweet! You're so sweet!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙇𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙤 𝙇𝙪𝙣𝙖:

“Don't forget…. You owe me~”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘼𝙙𝙖𝙢 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙠𝙚:

“I'll like to see you after class ends”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙇𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙝𝙤:

“OI! Who said you can leave early?!”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚:

“Are you complaining now? What a little brat you are. I guess I have to teach you a lesson”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙘 𝙎𝙣𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙮:

“I wouldn't go outside, if I were you”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙉𝙤𝙚�� 𝙉𝙤𝙖:

“It’s dangerous for a human like you to be roaming alone, let me assist you back”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝙅𝙞𝙣𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙞 𝙀𝙜𝙤:

“You came to my school, and you didn't expect you didn't belong to me already?”

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

𝘼n𝙧𝙞 𝙏𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙞:

“I'm so sorry for what they did to you! Let me help!”

✧｡*ﾟ+*.✧｡*ﾟ+

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

As you witnessed the bio, you notice that you have a cousin who's also here to protect and help you. He is your guardian angel! The number 1 person you can finally trust!! Low and behold:

Ruka Sanzuku:

"I've told you countless times not to go out on the night! You know what lurks beneath those walls!"

Wow! It seems your cousin really cares about you and wants yo look after you! Would you listen to his warnings? Or disobey him and find out what really lurks? There is only one way to find out! :D

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

For the record! I DO NOT own Blue Lock or any other the characters that were listed (except Ruka Sanzuku!)

This was originally going to be a Characters X OC but since many people tend to read another of x readers over the course of time, I decided to be nice and give it as another x reader story for everyone to enjoy!

The inspiration from this fic is solely based on the many romantic vampire anime and manga I have read and saw! If you see a reference based on the show/Manga, then I'll let you know where that inspiration came from!

But for the time being, all of it is in the works and would be released on a specific date! Till then! I hope people will enjoy this and see it come to life one day!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Yandere Blue Lock cast x Reader

Coming out in↠ Fall 2024

Blue Lock

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© 2024 Ｖｅｌｖｅｔｅｅｎ 平和な目覚め— do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform without my permission!

[radioisntdead]

you know how vox has vark his pet shark I want a thing with a reader who is an axolotl who is just living with him but vox never knew until a now where he find the reader on vark’s back in the tank in his office

Good evening my dear, I couldn't tell if you meant he didn't know that reader was an axolotl or that Axolotl reader is just causally living there,

I went with the latter because chaos also I went with headcanons as I couldn't figure out how to make this into a full fledged fic.

HEADCANON TIMEEEEE

Warnings: breaking and entering?? I watched an axolotl care guide for this also it's short.

Well you either have the biggest balls known to hell or you lack braincells because why would you break into the Vee's tower?

And how the hell did Vox NOT notice you??

Axolotl's tend to like cool temperatures so Vox's area is perfect for you! Bro has a ton of technology that needs to be kept cool so it doesn't overheat, the lighting is a little bit of a problem.

Vark's tank has a ton of space for you to swim in! And the two of you happen to get on swimmingly so that was a bonus.

Now Axolotl's in captivity, tend to eat trout and salmon pellets, frozen or live bloodworms, earthworms, and waxworms, however since you are a sinner and you'd rather not eat that, you straight up rob the Vee's kitchen.

Velvette gets PISSED when she goes to eat her leftovers and it's gone.

I headcanon that Vox has a little bit of a sweet tooth, so dude has a sweet treat in the refrigerator and it's GONE when he goes to eat it.

You don't trust Valentino's food because it could be drugged, it ends up in the trash.

You are small and squishy, Vark likes to gently chew on you like a chew toy, you have regenerative abilities so it's totally fine! Probably.

Now When Vox finally noticed you, it's almost a year or so later, He's going to feed Vark and you're just chillin' on his back.

I imagine you look like one of these depending on which he's SO dumbfounded on how he didn't realize you were there.

Sidenote, I find Axolotl's both cute and horrifying, like I can see them through a tank and think it's adorable but bring them near me without proper protection and I will cry.

He takes you out of the tank and interrogates you,

WERE YOU A SPY? DID ALASTOR SEND YOU? WAS ALASTOR WATCHING HIM?

But no you were just a random sinner who decided to move into the Vee's tower.

Without permission. Pretty sure that's a crime but it's hell.

Vark refuses to let him get rid of you so uh, I guess you're a bonus pet now.

He probably tries to send you into the hotel to spy on them but it fails.

That's fun, Good luck with that! At least you don't have to rob their kitchen anymore.

You still throw away Valentino's food though, let him STARVE.

Good evening folks! Hope you enjoyed! Also I don't condone food wastage I'm just convinced that any food Valentino touches is drugged.

Thank you for tuning in! I hope you have a wonderful day.

Link to our discord Incase any of you lovely folks would like to join!

[lokideservesahug]

Once upon A Dream II

Part of the 𝓕1 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Fem! Reader (Sleeping Beauty AU)

Warnings: Kidnapping, swords, killing and I think that's it?

Notes: Here is the second and last part of the Oscar Sleeping Beauty AU. I hope you all like this!

Summary: What do you do when you meet the man of your dreams and the love of your life? Why you run away to the palace of course...wait that can't be right?

Word Count: 4.5K

Part 1

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Back at the cottage, things were going really quite well. Florah has pulled together a really lovely dress truly "fit for a princess" as she said, Merryweather was utilising the time to clean around the house Fauna was making great progress cake. After they were all finally allowed to use their wands after so long of course. All was going swimmingly and with their magic the surprise early was nearly ready. Merryweather dances around the room eith the mop as it weaves in and out of the furniture, around Fauna and her baking, and back to the living room area were the acting seamstress is creating her masterpiece.

Merryweather spins around, wand waving with her. And spots the dress in the middle of the room. She gives it a one over and then begins to sport a look of disgust as she mumbles to herself. "Oh no. Not pink. Make it blue!" She subtly taps her wand in the air and as tiny sparkles are emailed from the tip of the wand, in front of their eyes, the once gorgeous pink dress begins to turn a lovely blue hue. Flora gasps in horror. "Merryweather!" She thrusts her own wand in the direction of the dress whilst mumbling "Make it pink. And in the same magic, sparkly fashion, the dress returns to its original pink.  She continues to sew momentarily as Merryweather begins to spin again.

Until the dress is in her sights once more. She mumbles subtly another "Make it blue." And continues to dance with the mop as the blue engulfs the pink on the dress. Flora let's out a frustrated "Pink!" And turns to glare at the other fairy. Merryweather glances at the change through a (newly cleaned) extremely shiny pot and eith a tap of her wand, goes to change the colour once again. However, her magic bounces off the pan and hits Flora rather than the dress. The now also blue fairy gasps in horror and disgust at her clothes' new cosmetic appearance and as Merryweather bends forward in laughter, she finds herself in a  new colour if clothes. The two go back and forth. A shot of red magic flies across the room. And then a shot of blue. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. The paths of magic begin yo loose direction and end up flying anywhere and everywhere. Past the cake, to each other, through the chimney.

And unbeknownst to any of the trio of fairy's, the contant red and blue sparked flying through the chimney, alerts a certain crow flying over as to their whereabouts. He stops in his tracks and begins to sqauwk loudly in shock at the flashes of light. He lands on top of the chimney of the cottage narrowly missing a red beam of magic coming from the spout. He leans in to get a look down the chimney only to be hit by multiple shots of magic, holding him in the air as if he was surfing on a sea of magic.

In the cottage, the two fairies continue to argue until it they both shoot a beam of magic towards the dress at the same time, causing it to appear to be splattered in different shaded of blue and pink. "Oh now look what you've done!" Flora angrily approaches the dress. "Shhh!" Fauna cuts across their conflict. "Listen!" The distant sound of beautiful singing fills their ears. They all cuttle to clean up. Merryweather puts the last of the dishes away, Flora lays the dress on a chair (not before giving it a tap with her wand to make it pink) and Fauna adds the last few candles onto the cake. "Now hide!" Flora grabs the arm of the green fairy as Fauna taps her wand in the air to light the candles on the cake.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Aunt Flora. Fauna. Merryweather?" You call for the women as you push open the cottage door. "Where are you?" You walk further in the house and gasp at the gorgeous dress lying on the chair. Suddenly a chorus of cheers fill your ears "Surprise!" You grin at their display. "Happy birthday!" "Oh you darlings. This is the happiest day of my life! Everything is so wonderful. Just wait till you meet him." You gaze forward longingly, daydreaming about the man from earlier that swept you off your feet. Flora splutters in confusion at your words. "Y-youve met a stranger?" You shake your head at her. "Oh no. He's not some stranger. We've met before." This causes both Flora and Fauna to look more alarmed. Merryweather however is the one taht speaks up. "You have? Where?"

You sigh dreamily "In a dream of course." You begin to hum the song from earlier ; which you have now deemed yours and the man from earlier's song (you wish you'd caught his name). At your clearly smitten look and lovesick humming, Fauna adresses the older women "She's in love!" Merryweather turns to Flora and covers her mouth with worry "Oh no..." Flora turns to Merryweather. "This is terrible!" You stop your humming and turn to the red-clad woman "Why? I'm twenty one after all." She shakes her head "It isn't that deary." Fauna walks towards you and takes your hands in hers whilst smiling. "You're already betrothed." This makes your smile drop. "Betrothed?" The other women in the room smile and Merryweather adds "Since the day you were born." Fauna nods her head. "To Prince Oscar, dear." You shake your head in disbelief "But that's impossible, how could I ever marry a prince? I'd have to be-" Merryweather grins and cuts across you "A princess."

"And you are dear." Fauna chimes before Flora comes back into the conversation "Princess Y/N. Tonight we're taking uou back to King Stefan, your father." Not that any of you noticed, but the crow now perched outside of the door perked up at the newfound information and if birds could grin, he would be. You turn and look at the women in horror, having just processed their words. "But...but I can't! He's coming here tonight!" You look around hopelessly "I promised to meet him. The women give you sympathetic glances "I'm sorry dear but you must never see that man ever again." Flora says with your hands in hers. You pull back from her embrace with wide eyes. "No...I can't believe it! This can't be happening...No!" The women try and approach you with a comforting embrace only for be met with your sobbing figure running out of the room and up the cottage stairs.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You say nothing for the rest of the day. Even when the tree women sneak you out of the forest and into the castle. You just tuck yourself nearer into the large cloak covering you and let your thoughts be plagued by the man from earlier and what could have been. They lead you inro the most elaborate room you've ever seen, sit you down at a stool by a vanity and gift a gorgeous tiara to you muttering things about it being your royal right. You only lawn your head on the vanity and mourn what could have been eith the man of your dreams as you watch your life swiftly be given away to some random prince.

Flora gently ushers the women out of the room muttering "Come. Let's give her a few moments alone." Merryweather shoots a concerned glance at the door "It's that boy..."

You continue to crumble softly with your head still lying on your arms. So you don't take any note to the dimming of the fireplace. Or the figure that emerges from it. Or even the bright green, floating orb of energy that makes its way into the middle of the room and begins to permeate your senses with a spell. You stare at the orb in a trance, feeling completely at its mercy.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Merryweather angrily groans "I don't see why on Earth she needs to marry any old prince!" Fauna  pits a comforting hand on merry's shoulder "Now, now dear. It's not for us to decide." She stands up and adresses Flora. "Maybe we should tell King Stefan about the boy..." Merry gladly joins in "Well why don't we?" Flora stops her pacing and Hughes the other two women. "Listen! Malificent!" They all scamper worriedly to your door whilst chrousing your nickname. Yet when they open the door, they're met with your retreating figure dowsed in unnatural green light. "Oh why did we leave her alone?" They chase after you only to be met with the entry to the passageway turning into a brick wall.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The light leads you up a flight of stairs, not that you're consciously aware of it. You don't even notice the distant echoes of your name from the bottom of the staircase. The light stops in the middle of teh room and begins to morph into some wooden contraption. After a moment ir two, you realise that the wooden contraption is in fact a spinning wheel, glowing the same sickeningly green shad eof the magic orb. Your tunnel vision focuses on the sharp point yet you notice a distant shouts of "Don't touch anything" from familiar female voices. However, an ominous voice (which you just assume is your inner monologue) urges you to touch the spindle. You do as it says and feel a brief moment of relief from the magic before you collapse.

"You poor simple fools." The tall, slender figure of Malificent stands in teh centre if the room. "Thinking you could defeat me. Me, the mistress of all evil! Well here is your precious little princess." She points to the ground where you lie and the fairies gasp in horror. Malificent exits the rol  with a manical laugh as the women rush over to your figure.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

No one sees how much the fairy's weep tonight. But as they lie your body into the plush, untouched bed, the walls certainly bare witness to their sobs. The same walls also watch as the three fairies agree to place the entire kingdom under a century long sleep to wait for the princess to awake. The fairys shrink themselves and take off, out of the window and begin to spell the kingdom. They visit everyone from the guards to the dogs. To the subjects and even the rulers.

However when they reach the throne room, Flora hears the last conscious thoughts of the king from the neighbouring country. "I was just talking to Oscar. Seems he's fallen in love with some..." He yawns and his eyes begin to flutter to a close. He begisn to recall the events from earlier (of a lovesick and elated Isvar running to him and confessing his love for a poor, wood-dweller rather than the princess Y/N he was betrothed to). "Peasant girl." This causes Flora to halt her ministrations. "Peasant girl?" She utters to herself in confusion. She lopps back round and approaches the (much) larger man's face. "Yes?" She tries to tap the man on the face only to receive a tired sigh in repsonse.

Flora flies over to his ear and shouts urgently in it. "The peasant girl, who is she? Where did he meet her?" The neighboring king only mumbles. "Just some peasnt gi...." Before he drifte back off. "Where, where?" Flora forces his eyelid open. "Once upon...a dream..." He slips out of consciousness for the final tie. Flora gasps loudly at his word sand repeats them to herself. "Y/N, Prince Oscar." She shoots up into teh air in realisation and determination. She meets the other two fairies who are hovering above. "Come on, we've got to get back to the cottage." At her exclamation, they all zoom off into the woods in hopes of finding the prince.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Oscar happily jumps off of Smason as soon  as he reaches the front door of the cottage. A big grin splits across his face at just the thought of the woman he met earlier. He's never felt such a warm feeling from being in the pretense of someone before and even the few hours away from you make his heart yearn for your presence once more. He knocks gently on the door despite his excitement on what should await him on the other side. "Come in." A voice beckons to him. He opens the door, lovesick grin still prominent on his face. That look however quickly drops when he enters the darkness filled cottage. Slam. The door suddenly closes and before he can react, he's being jumped apon by what feels like a million small creatures.

His arms are swiftly tied, leaving him unable to do anything. Maleficent only watches with a smug look on her face as she watches the prince be tied up. Oscar desperately kicks, trying to ward if the creatures but his attempts are futile due to the sheer number if the henchmen. He even looses his ability to cake for help when not long after his legs are tied, something ties a cloth around his mouth, leaving him and his senses at whoever bound him's mercy. Oscar grunts lowly, trying to break free of any of the ties only to have Maleficent approach him with a wicked grin.

"Well..." She looks him up and down with an almost hungry look in her eyes. "This is a pleasant surprise." Her grin widens even more as she holds the candlestick not far from his face. "I set my trap for a peasant and instead I caught a prince!" She laughs to herself before slamming her staff on the floor. "Take him away." Oscar tries to wiggle out of the binds once more. "But gently my pets, gently." She softly adresses her minions as they take Oscar far away from the cottage.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

When the fairys arrive at the cottage, they find it dark and empty... Well apart from the brooch of a travel cloak carrying the Pistri Royal Family crest. Flora gasps. "Prince Oscar!" She picks up the brooch and shows it to the other 2 women. They gasp and simultaneously mutter "Maleficent." Merrywether opens her mouth and shock and mutters "She's got Prince Oscar!" Flora only responds with  dazed "At the forbidden mountains." Making Fauna gasp in horror.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Maleficent walks along the gloomy corridors of her castle to the large cells. She pulls a large key from a concealed pocket and opens the creaky door and approaches the man with his head rested on his hand. "Oh come now Prince Oscar, what are you so down? A spectacular future lies ahead of you. You, the destined hero of a fairytale community to life." She leans happily against her staff.

"Behold, King Stefan's Castle." She points the orb if her staff towards Oscar's face. "And in the highest tower, dreaming of her true love, the Princess Y/N. But by some gracious twist of fate. Why it is the same peasant girl who won the heart of our noble Prince, but yesterday. She truly is a most gorgeous maid. With locks of Y/H/C and lips of red, in ageless sleep, left eternally in bed. " She smiles wildly and continues her strange narrative as the image in the orb changes to a long, white haired clearly aged version of Oscar on a clearly shattered horse. "The years pass but 100 years to a steadfast heart pass as if only a minute. Now the gates of the dungeon part and our prince is free to go his own way. Off he rides on bus noble steed straight to wake his lady love with loves first kiss. And prove that true love conquers all."

Maleficent smiles sickeningly sweetly and at the end of her Minogue, Oscar jumps up as if ready to attack, only to be held back by the giant chains. She laughs at his helplessness and leaves the dungeon with a quieter, self-satisfied laugh this time.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

After a very long and action filled journey to the forbidden mountains, the fairies eventually find Oscar in the cellar. They look on from a high perch as Malaficent returns to the highest point of the castle and they take that as their sign to act. They fly down through the window to where Oscar is being kept and transform from their tiny, flight ready selves into their full size selves. Flora hushes Oscar as he looks up in confusion upon their arrival. "No time to explain." She says to the young man as she begins to use her wand to free the prince of one of the chains in his arm. Fauna makes quick work on the shackles binding his feet whilst Merryweather works on unlocking the door.

Oscar looks at his newly freed form and rubs his rusts slightly, getting accustomed to the feeling of no large metal binds. He takes a determined step forward before Flora stops him. "Wait Prince Oscar the road to true love may be blocked by many more dangers. That you alone will have to face. So arm yourself with this enchanted shield." She waves her wand in the air and a large shield appears on Oscar's left arm. "And you can't forget this mighty sword!" She flicks flicks wand once again and a sharp sword takes home in Oscar's right hand. "Now these weapons of righteous shall win against all evil. Now come, we must hurry." At her words, the four of them quickly sneak out of the cell.

Squawk. As soon as Flora exits the cell, she ends up being face to face with a squawking Maleficent crow. She goes to grab it yet it has already flown up the stairs, still squawking, before she can act. Oscar turns and gestures to the women to follow him along an alternate route. "Come on. I think we can go the way I came." He leads them along the corridor and they run up a different flight of stairs. Stairs with over a dozen of Malaficent's henchmen stationed on them and an ever squawking crow above them. Oscar turns and runs back down the stairs as the fairies shrink for easier exit. Oscar jumps up to an empty window frame and begins swinging his sword. He manages to land a fair few blows before he leaps put of the window and onto the surprisingly large ledge below (which he had noticed when he first jumped to the window frame). He runs along the ledge until he reaches the corner.

Driven by his sheer bravery and determination to meet his fair maiden (who is also theprincess he is betrothed to?) Oscar jumps from the ledge and manages to slide on what must be an old form of guttering and take a calculated leap onto the floor. He hears a small shout of "Oscar watch out." Brgore he turns and only narrowly blocks an onslaught of arrows fired by some henchmen (instructed by that annoying crow). Merryweather flys to a few metres away where Samson is chained to a pair and begins to break through the binds. Oscar early finds place back on the back of his horse and with the fairies trailing behind, gallops away. The fairies manage to block many attacks and even Oscar fails to realise many if them with his tunnel vision being focused only on the end objective of seeing and saving you.

Merryweather growing tired of the windless Birdcall, splits from the group and chases the loud bird in and around different pillars as it dodges shots of her magic. They teach the highers tower and before it can enter the fairway, she catches off guard and the shot of magic turns him into a gargoyle looking bird. She casts a self satisfied glance at the taste and flies away.

Oscar hears the harsh words of "hurry" from the red clad fairy to his left before ethe sky suddenly tursn an unnatural shade of purple. The stone archway he rides under is only there for a moment longer after it is hit by a bolt of lightning, a strange purple hue. Oscar holds the shield above his head and let's out a few grunts when he feels the pressure of loose stones falling on the shield. Another strike hits the path ahead of him but Samson thinks fast and jumps to a ledge just below. The five of them continue on the path and the palace suddenly enters his sight. But before his eyes, the ground spits and a collsal mask of thorns begins to sprout. He watched the plants grow contort at strange angles and he mutters a quiet "What the-" before Samson grinds to a halt by tilting onto his back legs.

The still determined Oscar doesn't think for more than a second before his right hand is leaving forward and slaughtering the branches. He makes quick work of the thorns and ploughs through them. He only gets held up for a small moment when the back of his travel cloak gets snagged by a particular unruly branch. Merryweather sees this and flies out and tugs the cloak free. Oscar makes  a mental note to thank her later before continuing yo ride towards the palace and cut down the unreadonable shrubbery. It doenst take long for Oscar to reach the end of the thorns and instead he finds a bramble free bridge only covered by a thin layer of purple fog.  But at that moment, yhe nothing before him turns into a green flame filled eith the mistress of evil. If looks could kill, Oscar would be long gone because she looked like she was ready to kill him over a hundred times over.

She proves this theory when she opens her arms and proclaims "Now you will deal with me Oh Prince." She looks up to the sky and her limbs suddenly begin to grow and contort to weird angles. None of the groups see much though because a large amount of her signature smoke comes with the transformation. Maleficent let's out a  cunning laugh and trails off when she wholly becomes her final, dragon form. Oscar only stares, horrified and slack jawed before he snaps out of his mood and charges forward. Yet Maleficent reacts quickly and in her dragon form, releases a large breath of flaming air. Luckily Osacr manages to block it but not without being sent backwards a tiny bit and off of Samson.

Oscar only sends a silent prayer in thanks that his horse didn't have to be involved with the fight between Oscar and the towering creature. Malificent sends out multitudinous blasts of fire that even lead to the crumbling if the castle bridge. But none of this deters Oscar from his mission. Oscar moves back slightly to hide in the brambles and when Mlaificent sticks her significantly karge head in Saif plants to find Oscar, he strikes. He lands a good hit to her giant, scaley nose and even as she bites back in retaliation, he manages to land a few swipes here and there. Maleficent raises her head once more and St's the branches laughter with one small breath of fire. Oscar backs himself against a tall cliff. "Up this way!" Flora commands the man and he hoists him himself the cliff and climbs to the highest point. He manages to end end eye level with Maleficent and lands a few more swipes to her head, halting her sudden biting motions.

The dragon backs Oscar up until hes left looking helpless at the edge of the cliff. She shoots another breath of fire and Oscar loses his balance slightly and drops the shield. The onlookers hold their breath in fear. But when the fairies approach and Flora mutters a low enchantment of "Sword of truth fly swift and sure, that evil die and good endure" Oscar feels as if its decond nature to throw his sword straight to the heart of the dragon. Magnificent let's out a conquered wail at the contact and as Oscar sees rhe sword peirce her scales, he feels not an ounce if sympathy. Maliwfwicent tries to land one more bite at Oscar but he narrowly doges it.

The ground however is not nearly as unborhered by her actions and as the large creature falls to the floor? The unsteady cliff collapses in front of his feet. He shakes bimself, almost as if trying to sober himself up afyer a bus dream only to be met with the sword lodged into a dark purple stain in the ground... Oscar has no time to ponder this however before he hears the approaching footfall of Samson. "Here boy." Oscar smiles as he grabs the reigns. Oscar throws a glance towards the castle only to see eit looking bibrant, saturated and most umportantly, not surrounded by brambles.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Oscar almost finds it unfair that you're as gorgeous asleep as you were when you danced with him two days prior. He gazes at you in awe. You really were a sleeping beauty. He approaches ypir bed softly and feels giddy with the reminded of what the fairies told him he had to do. He traces your features gently with his eyes. And feels himself smile softly at your serene look. Oscar takes  adero breath in and leans in, mouth meeting yours. And Oscar feels like he's never felt such a wonderful sensation as your plush lips meeting his (especially when yours are surprisingly warm). Oscar pulls back k slightly to admire your radiance onec again only to be met with a pair of fluttering eyelids.

You smile softly when you see Oscar leaning infront if you and the fairies in the back coo at your awakening.

Neither if you notice the rest of the kingdom awakening but when you and Oscar  go downstairs to the throne room, you feel everyone's eyes on the two of you. You however are so lost in Oscar's eyes and the loving look he's giving you that you don't even notice your father's exclamation of "It's Y/N, she's here!" Or your future father in laws confuse spluttering (he did after all still think that Oscar wanted to marry that 'Peasant girl' from the woods). He does however manages to male a great observation of "and Oscar!" The two of you bow to your fathers and you leave Oscar's sid etc go and give your mother a warm embrace.

Oscar's father approaches him and says quietly whilst looking around, "What doe sthis mean son I-" You however swiftly silence his thoughts when you kiss the man  on either cheek before Oscar holds out his hand for you and you take it. Oscar leads you onto the dance floor and the two of you begin to softly sway. You look up lovingly into his eyes and he smiles slightly and mutters "So I all worked out then?" You let oit a gentle hum od confusion and he clarifies himself. "Your dream love." His words make you ought softly and the two of you smile and exchange yet another long, lasting kiss. And why you don't think even your dreams could capture such a magical, truly spectacular feeling.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome.

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie @c-losur3 @yourfreeenchtouch

[sugoi-writes]

Nun!Alastor x Reader - The Confessional - Part 1

It's 1 AM, and @st-alastors-confessional has me foaming at the mouth. I wrote this far-too-long drabble based off of the MOD's Nun Alastor. Please please enjoy!

Warning: Not proofread in the slightest, with implications of sacrilege and sinning behavior. You've been warned! I might do another part with more debauchery down the road hehe

The sermon was going swimmingly, all things considered. The Pastor and Priest, St. Vox, lead with a soulful, boisterous tone. Albeit, he had always led his sermons with a strong, charismatic energy. He left the congregation absolutely enraptured, waiting on hand and foot for him to speak again.... You, another sinner among the crowd, tried to absorb what you could from his ravings and ramblings.

Clearly, when you wound up in Hell... you found out the hard way that God was, indeed, real. You had long been a on-Christian, and even if you still weren't... you couldn't look the facts in the face and say they weren't true. It was a simple notion:

God was real. You were not a loyal believer. You did a bad thing or two, and now you're in a church in the heart of the Pentagram, seeking answers.

You were hoping to find a way to get into Heaven... St. Vox's approach was very traditional, almost 'Dark Ages' approach. A phrase you heard once or twice rung through your mind, clear as the morning church bells:

" When a coin in the coffer rings, a soul in purgatory springs..."... no, was it sings??? That, you werent sure... either way--

Many wealthier, gullible sinners would shove money towards the Church, desperate to buy their way out of Hell. The more meek, kind hearted sinners would often throw money to the offering plates to prevent their love ones from suffering the same fate... Whether their monetary sacrifices were successful or not... well, that's yet to be seen. And no one truly know where that money goes...

And so you searched and listened in the pews patiently, hoping that something would reveal itself to you... Would living justly get you out of here? Would denouncing sin in its entirety get you the ticket out of this hellhole? Hell, did you need to declare yourself celibate? You certainly wouldn't be opposed, after some of the shit you saw on Day One...

In all honestly, you'd be willing to throw a few dollars in the pot on the off chance your gut was wrong about St. Vox's approach. As you know, your intuition had led you astray before...

You were five Sundays deep in this contrived drivel, and yet, you still had questions... The questions that plagued your mind could only be answered by the Priest, ideally during Confessional tonight... But, as you tried your best to stay awake through another biblical tangent, you were startled by a choral uproar. The choir, made entirely of clergy, was the closest thing to Heavenly that they, or any sinner, could hear in Hell.

Honest efforts were being made to sing the hymns and profess the Gospel accurately. The pitches and incantations were perfectly admirable, even enjoyable... and surprisingly, all of this was all done in Latin. It was nearly enough to raise goosebumps across your flesh, your senses pleased by the perfect, harmonious progressions.

One among the nuns who sung, with strong, crimson features, met your gaze in the middle of the refrain. You felt the gaze burrowing into you deeper, trembling subconscious as the song made you sway along.

A pointed, yellowed smile graced your eyes as the deer demon sang along. The overall tone of the higher melodic line had felt like cashmere; it was refined and soft due to their(?) unique voice texture. It was a tone that you felt was familiar... a comforting one. You couldnt put your tongue on it, squinting slightly at the demure nun. They(?) seemed to notice your infatuation, their hands folding neatly together and clasping a fine, ornate rosary. Their hands were elegant, long and thin, reminding you of a Royal... surely, those hands were used for more than empty prayer?

You felt your mind run to impurities and sin almost instantly, panicking as you tore your sight away from the Nun. You felt your throat running dry as you shook your head in shock. You couldn't be thinking this way about a nun-- a NUN? Quite literally, a celibate being, devoted to God and His work. This felt... wrong. So wrong, even for a sinner like you.

Your legs brushed tightly against one another, hoping to stiffle the feeling that pooled in your core. You watched the way that the Nun's chest rose and fell, how the angular jaw was complimented by the small, bobbed tufts that framed it. Your eyes became lost in the visual stimuli as you pondered just how demure and sweet this Nun must have looked under the habit...

You bite the inside of your cheek as you felt the Nun's eyes still looking to you, as if they KNEW exactly what you were thinking. 'If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I might catch a cold,' your mind mimicked in their voice.

You felt indecent, completely exposed to someone who you should be regarding as an example of purity and devotion...

As the hymn finally concluded, the Priest dismissed the clergy. He was swiftly wrapping things up as the coffers and offering plates made their rounds around the room. The nuns assisted, coming row by row to collect generous donations and desperate offerings. You felt yourself stiffen as you noticed the red and black demon making their way closer to you, voice teeming with a startling sweetness.

"Blessings unto you, dear Sinner. Many thanks. ...Blessings unto you, dear. How has your mother been fairing--?"

As the velvety voice grew closer to you, you felt yourself unable to move, paralyzed with fear. What if they knew you were lusting over them so superficially? Would they be able to tell?

You nearly fell into the aisle as a sinner slammed into you from behind, thrusting money towards the chaste nun," Pl-Please!!!! Please, this is all that I have!!! Sister Alastor, Sister Alastor!!! Bless me!!! Bless me, Sister!!!"

The Demon nun took pause at your row, noticing you struggling under the weight of the sinner on top of you. Your lungs felt like they were being squeezed shut, unable to expand in their efforts. You pushed with all of your might, eyes closed as you fought back," W-Watch it, you f-- Ugh, you putrid FUCK!!! Get off me!!!"

Swiftly, Sister Alastor's hand was on the neck of the sinner, squeezing tightly as he gasped and gurgled. The nun simply smiled, head tilted," Dear sinner! Your penance is null and void if you cast discomfort and pain upon thine neighbor!" The nun's neck practically snapped at velocity they cocked their head up, looking downcast at the panicking demon. Unable to look up, you missed the smile Alastor wore, threatening to tear the demonic face of the nun in two.

"Take your vile hands and cast them into the River Styx... for your blood money is not welcome in these halls... Now leave this scared place. "

The sinner gasps, coughing and sputtering as he scrambles away, causing you to fall forward out of your pew. Just when you think you're about to eat shit: two large, taloned hands delicately hold you aloft.

"Are you unharmed, little lamb?" You blink for a moment, looking up slowly... only to find Sister Alastor's face an inch from your own. You stuttered as your hot breath fanned against his face, your legs threatening to give out under you.

"Y-Yes, Im-- I'm quite alright. Thank you, Sister..." You allow Alastor to place you back onto your feet, the hands of the docile-looking demon smoothing out your outfit and brushing off imaginary debris.

"I apologize for making you intervene. Thank you-- I would've been trampled to death, were it not for you." The deer Demon's smile could have made the devil tremble... but to you, it seemed entirely sincere," Thank me not, dear Lamb. For the Lord always calls upon his disciples to help those in need." Alastor takes a step away from you, bowing their head and giving you a polite curtsy.

"Alas, I must be away. But, should you need to seek council... the Lord always has room to hear out your wayward strifes and confessions." You reach out and almost touch the Nun's habit, sheepishly blushing when you sense the farmer's flinch.

"A-Actually... will the Priest be seeing anyone for Confession tonight? I... I have concerns. Concerns I feel like he could help me through... Im troubled, and just..." Your eyes are downcast, unable to look at the devilishly handsome demon," Im... concerned about my salvation. And need advice on how better to achieve it... or, if its really too late for me now."

You feel your heart leap into your throat as the Nun's head pulls off a complete 180° spin, the body following suit a moment after. Alastor clasps both of your hands in his own, smile wide and full of glee," But of course! Our hallowed halls could never deny such an honest soul seeking the Lord's guidance!" Alastor's head grows closer to yours, voice hushing. You're forced to lean in too, his voice hardly above a whisper.

"However, he will be unable to see anyone just yet. Return at the Witching Hour... he will have an audience with you then." Your eyes widened as you smiled back, eagerly shaking the nun's hands," O-Oh thank you-- Thank you!!! I appreciate that! I'll be back soon, then. Bless you, Sister Alastor! "

You nod and bow back to the nun, who regards you evenly but warmly, before watching you leave. You did not see the smirk that spread across Alastor's face... the glint of excitement that lights up his candy red eyes.

Oh, he knows damn well that Vox will not seek an audience with you that late in the night... who best to stand in for the Priest other than himself... the Mother Superior?

His mind festers with demented excitement as you stumbled out of the church, looking like a scared, timid doe... Oh, how he would enjoy seeing you again. He would need to prepare for your visit... after all, you would be doing your fair share of confessing AND atoning for your sins... your eyes hid nothing from him. And he was going to enjoy seeing them well up with blissful tears, a wanton expression gracing your cheeks...

The click of the nun's shoes echoed as he followed the other clergy members elegantly, his face not giving anything away. Oh Lord, how you've blessed him with a most delightful pleasure... he'd be sure to repent for his indecency later.

[mademoisellegush]

Enver Gortash, né Flymm: a tentative timeline

OR: I try to make sense of whatever the fuck is up with the Dark Urge's oiliest ex-fwb

enver flymm lives with his parents, sally and dravo flymm in the lower city, cobblers for generations, etc. he tinkers a lot, "traps and mechanisms", described as "needy, foolish, wicked, demanding attention, very crafty, smart boy - too smart" "He was always a little monster. Nasty to the core. He would've torn me and Dravo apart with his whining, his demands, the never-ending racket of him!" (note: they note that they made enver feel powerless, and this would have been the inciting incident that made him feel justice= revenge and fear)

the parents owe money to The Guild, the criminal organization that basically ran Baldur's Gate behind the scenes (everyone either owing them money or getting kickback / blackmail from it)

a warlock shows up and offers money for Enver. they sell their son to said warlock.

Enver seems to have changed his name then, either the warlock doing it or him denying the flymm name?

warlock then brings Enver to the House of Hope - I assume Raphael might have been his patron? which would mean raphael wanted enver from the start. Nubaldin, who used to work in the prison of the House of Hope, calls him "a mischievous little blot of a boy, who slipped through his fingers"

at some point during his stay in the prison of the House of Hope, Enver figures out about the Crown of Karsus held in Mephistopheles' vault. he escapes the house of hope

back in faerun's plane, he starts moving against the Guild. There's a report to Nine-Fingers, Guildmaster, of "upstart smuggler Enver Gortash making inroads on the illicit arms trade in the chionthar valley", though states it's more like "annexation", replacing the Knights of the Shield and the Zhentarim. definitely had a grudge to bear against them lol

Notes that seem to be from somwhere in this period of time:

"lavender scented diary of lady wisteria jannath" where hes like. seducing this old pariar for the diamond ring worth more than her mansion.

a letter to franc, a now deceased arms dealer, where hes like being a freak about how "weapons distributions continues like a parent saving their drowning child: swimmingly" and also how he loves "any man willing to birth a little more slithering wet malice into the world"

1482 DR (for sure, from dialogue with Karlach saying it's been ten years), he's selling Karlach (who looked up to and liked him !) to Zariel in order to get the prototype for his Steel Watchers. because i think he can't be satisfied with what he actually has, he wants *everyone* to like him, through being terrified of him and his weapons.

at some point, meets with the Dark Urge and ally together. they steal the crown of karsus with halsik's help. the Absolute hoax is put into motion

they get ketheric and myrkul in on it, after the crown heist, by digging isobel up so she can get necromanced.

Gondians fit here (as the note by Vance Farnol places it)

not too long before the game (at most a year? two?), orin poisons and tadpoles the Dark Urge and goes to Ketheric and Gortash to act as Bhaal's Chosen. Dark Urge becomes a test subject chew toy for Kressa Bonedaughter at Moonrise.

gortash tadpoles his parents "months" before the game, as sally flymm states if you talk to her.

My question: when did Enver Gortash find the Emperor/Balduran and bring him back under the domination of the Elder Brain, as part of taking down the Knights of the Shield? Or when he and the Dark Urge had acquired the Crown? does anyone have a screenshot of the interrogation sequence between those two?

(note: the emperor has a devnote for the emotions the Voice Actor was supposed to express when gortash proposes an alliance thats like. Yeah he's lying but i hate his guts, and you could always betray him first)

[ashensgrotto]

The Sea's Sacrifice (Part 3)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto / Jade Leech / Floyd Leech x F!Reader

Total Word Count: 14.7k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (You are Here) Part 4 Part 5

Synopsis: A potential job as a marine biologist’s assistant leaves (Y/N) feeling something fishy going on behind the scene…

Author's Notes: Original Idea came from @merakiui 's annonymous ask with a short story / headcannon -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/684490143936167936/ooohhh-i-love-those-writing-ideas-you-had-for-sea?source=share

and I absolutely love this concept and wanted to take it a step further. I don't write yandere nor fanfiction as much as I did a few years ago. However, I do hope I do this piece justice; I will had links to the next part once it is completed and ready for viewing.

Also, this is a work of fiction. I disagree with anyone that justifies the following behaviors which are represented in this fic (if I think of more, I will add them as I go):

rape/non-consent/dub-consent, possessive/controlling/dominating behaviors, and manipulation

***

Play the song you sang long ago

And wherever the storm may blow

You will find the key to my heart

We'll never be apart

***

“...And how is everything going with our trio?” Mr. Crowley had called both Trein and Crewel into his office along with Grimsley for a meeting that night after the rest of the staff had left for the day.

“Absolutely swimmingly,” Professor Crewel answered with a psychotic grin on his face, “Only nearly got my head bitten off by two mers today, but other than that, we’re fine!”

“You weren’t even near the pool,” Professor Trein let out a sigh, rolling his eyes heavenward, before turning toward Mr. Crowely, “The subjects have allowed test number 03182020 to interact with them as well as talk with them. We know that both of the morays see 03182020 as a match, we are still waiting for the octopus to make the decision as well.”

“I heard about that attack,” Mr. Crowley leaned forward on his desk, elbows resting on the surface as his long fingers criss crossed each other, “and the morays’ first instinct was to protect, not only the octomer, but 03182020 as well?”

“Yes, sir,” Trein answered.

“Hmmm…” Crowley shifted, fiddling a contract in his hands before one nail tapped against the desk.

“Whacha thinking?” Grimsley asked, a dark brow raised in question.

“We don’t have much time left before the contract is up - I had sort of hoped it wouldn’t come to this, not yet at least,” Mr. Crowely stood from his desk, moving toward the window and looking out into the courtyard behind the office, “When was the last time they went into heat?”

“All three had experienced their urges around September last year,” Crewel answered, pressing his hands into his pockets, “Now, normally for moray eels, their mating season runs from July to September - and octopi fry are typically hatching at this point.”

“And if they are anything like their counterparts,” Trein mused, “The twins and the octomer will likely die following the mating process.”

“Hold on, these things die after mating?” Grimsley cocked a brow at the two of them.

“Unfortunately so,” Crewel answered with a nod, “Octopi will mate somewhere between November and early February - following that process, the female will eat the male before she goes into incubation. The few lucky males that are able to escape their mate’s hungry clutches eventually succumb to death a few months after the mating process - some male Giant Pacific octopi have also been known to get dementia before passing. As for the females, after they lay their clutch of eggs - which can be roughly around a hundred thousand, they starve themselves and sometimes tear themselves apart piece by piece. After the eggs hatch, she succumbs to death as well - leaving all of her fry to the current of the sea and one can only hope some of the eggs make it.”

“As for morays,” Trein answered, “depending on the type, males and females will travel to a particular spot and breed there, the males - exhausted from the travel and mating - pass away. The female will incubate her clutch - which is about ten thousand eggs - before laying them in the rocky beds among seaweed before passing away as well. If the water is warm enough, the eggs will only take about 30 to 45 days to hatch - sometimes sooner depending on the temperature of the water.”

“Sheesh, talk about a sexual turn off,” Grimsley crossed his arms over his chest.

“But, we don’t know if mers act in the same fashion,” Crewel answered, “I’m guessing that they follow some of the same mating habits as their counterparts, but not all of them.”

“And we won’t know anything unless we try something,” Crowley spoke, turning toward the duo, “We can't wait seven months, it's now or never. Speed the process up - add about three degrees to the pool each day and try to see how the mers’ attitudes change toward 03182020 in the coming weeks. I want to see some results before the end of next month.”

“Consider it done,” Crewel and Trein smiled as their hands rested over their hearts, a sign of their understanding.

"We've got one last shot - do not fail me."

***

Floyd and Jade greeted you in their usual fashion the following morning, with chirps, clicks, and echoes of ‘Hello’ and your name.

“Good morning,” you smile with a soft wave at the duo, “Are you guys hungry?”

“Hungry!” Floyd shouts, back flipping into the water to toss it in your direction before reappearing on the surface again.

You only snort, pulling the buckets from the freezer before strolling toward the edge of the pool, kneeling down to deposit the contents into the murky depths. 

Before you can do so, however, both of the twins pounce. Jade had shifted so his upper body laid behind you on the edge of the pool, his long tail still draped into the water with your shoulders trapped between his webbed hands as his face buried itself into your hair, cool breaths tickling your nape; Floyd, on the other hand, had attached himself to your front - arms wrapped tightly around your waist with his head tucked under your chin as he rested against your chest. Soft clicks and coos came from both brothers as they twisted their bodies closer to yours, noses nuzzling your warm skin as the slippery film that coated their bodies clung to your skin and clothing.

“Safe?” Jade had asked after a moment, pulling away and looking directly at your face.

“Safe?” you ask, confusion slowly writing across your features.

“Shimpy safe, Jade,” Floyd grinned, sharp teeth on display.

“Wait a minute, who are you calling shrimpy?!”

The twins only clicked and chuckled before removing themselves from you, though each still clung onto each of your hands, sharp nails tracing the smooth skin of your wrists as the two brothers chattered with each other.

It was then that it dawned on you.

Following the arrival of Crewel after the first encounter with Azul the previous day, the twins had believed that you, maybe even Azul, were in danger - hence why Floyd had acted like a guard dog most of the day, even going so far as to refuse to return to the water. It had been yours and Jade’s gentle urging that allowed him to submerge under the water, allowing the gills behind his ears and on his sides to breath again; now, Jade - on the other hand - had paced the water, keeping one eye on the set of glass double doors and growling any time someone walked by it. When you set out to leave for the day, both of the twins had let out ferocious growls that you jumped in your skin - but seeing you frightened was the last thing they wanted. You had made it clear that you were going to be careful and that you would return in the morning like usual - the two could do so little as they watched you leave, worry filling their brown and gold gazes.  

You shouldn’t have been surprised since the two were likely very apprehensive about you and maybe had been up all night, wondering if or when you would return - and when you did, they wanted to make sure that you were safe; no injuries or pain on your body from the other humans that had made appearances prior to your arrival.

You smiled and patted both of their heads, trying to show some reassurance, “Don’t worry, guys. I’m okay. I was just a little nervous from that incident yesterday.”

Jade growled while Floyd hissed in agreement.

“I swear I’m okay,” you sigh, dipping your hands into the water as you lay on your stomach before the duo, “I wasn’t attacked or anything, I don’t have any bruises or cuts - nothing worth reporting. So, please be a bit more gentle when the others come in. I know you guys like me and all, but you also have to work with them too - after all, they brought me here to look out for you and vice versa.”

The twins looked at each other before clicking in agreement, although Floyd looked dejected - likely hoping you’d allow him to do more than splash the intruders during your time together.

You could only chuckle before standing and taking the knocked over bucket of seafood and depositing it over the side, “I hope you guys are hungry. You look like you both deserve this one!”

***

The next two weeks pass by slowly as you continue your interactions with the duo - now turned trio.

Azul made his appearance again a day or two after the Crewel incident, but only stayed and watched your interactions with the twins for a few minutes before disappearing beneath the surface again. Every time you saw him, you waved at him - trying to reach a hand out to accept your presence into the group, especially since Crewel had interrupted that near precious moment between the two of you; Azul was always shocked to see you wave at him and slowly began copying the movement with the tips of his fingers peeking out from beneath the water. He began to grow bolder, appearing closer and closer to the pool’s edge with each passing day until by the end of the second week, he was greeting you with the twins as you walked in - clicks and coos higher pitched than the twins'.

“Hey guys!” You grin, setting your bag down and heading over to the freezer, “And I see Azul decided to join us this morning! Nice to see you again!”

Azul ducked his head down, but you had seen the blush slowly creep up his face - turning his face and ears a deep shade of blue.

You giggled, setting the buckets down before them. You had stopped dumping the contents into the water earlier last week, instead handing out the food to the hungry mers as a way to continue to build trust between the four of you. Azul was far too nervous to approach you at the time, so you had tossed what he was interested in eating towards him - allowing you to get a good glimpse at his tentacles for the first time. They were long and black with a purple underbelly and multiple suckers that appeared to be the size of quarters and half-dollar coins. Whenever you tossed something in his direction, one of his appendages would shoot out of the water like a snake launching at its prey. It was fascinating to watch the tentacle curl around the meal, nearly crushing it within its grasp - the dozens upon dozens of suckers clutching it tightly as if it was afraid to let go.

 After giving the impatient twins their choice of meals, you smile at Azul, “What would you like? I still have some crab, shrimp, some fish, and a few snails left over…”

Azul looks into the bucket that is turned on its side before several tentacles reached forward and pulled several pieces of fish and crab from the container before dipping below the surface to eat.

You take the remaining contents and dump it over the side before standing to get your notes. You flip through the filled pages as you take a seat on the edge of the pool, your shoes discarded so you can soak your feet in the water. You absent-mindly begin to hum, your head swaying with the tune that had been trapped in your head for a few hours at least. 

Something slimy touches your foot, causing you to jerk slightly before you realize Azul had attempted to touch you. He looked broken as he regarded you, moving a bit away from you.

“Hey, it’s ok,” you offer your hand out, palm upward, “you just startled me is all.”

A soft click comes from the octomer as he comes to your side again, slowly.

“There we go, I won’t hurt you.”

The scene plays itself out how it should have been the first day Azul approached you; his hand slips into yours, allowing you to feel the surprising smoothness of his skin. One tentacle slips around your ankle, squeezing slightly as his gaze remains on your smiling face. You recalled reading somewhere that octopi used their suckers to help them travel along the ocean floor, but they were also used to taste by touch. Azul was likely testing to see if you were good enough to eat - maybe.

"Am I tasty?" you joked, which earned you a disapproving grunt from the octomer.

You giggled and reached out with your other hand to touch the top of another tentacle that had made its way up the side of the pool. It felt like a soaked piece of gummy candy - slimy and smooth - before lifting the edge and admired the pale lavender-colored suckers, rubbing your thumb slowly around the inner edge. Azul squeaked slightly, the tentacle around your ankle squeezing tighter and causing you to wince.

"Hey, not so tight there," you pull your legs up from the water and away from Azul’s grasp.

The octomer whined, his hands reaching out and clutching the ankle that had been in his grasp. Your eyes widened at the sight of multiple little circles that surrounded your ankle - deep blue in color and slowly turning darker to a dark purple. Azul releases you and ducks down so you can only see the top of his head and his eyes as they shift nervously between you and the marks in your leg. You offer another smile and reach out, stroking the top of his head, offering words of kindness and support - letting him know you were okay and that it didn't bother you.

One finger traces the outline from one of his suckers - a strange feeling settling in your gut at the thought that this was more than just a mere marking.

***

As time goes on and you interact with Azul more and more, you realize that he was touch-starved to an unhealthy amount.

He enjoys wrapping his tentacles around your legs when you sit on the edge of the pool before him, his head on your lap while you hold your notebook above him and jot notes down about your experiences with the mers. Jade and Floyd often attempt to sneak in for what you've deemed as a "cuddle session" - but Azul often growls at them with a few clicks in their direction before his arms wrap around your waist tighter. The trio do switch things up eventually, with Jade and Floyd both curled protectively around your form as Azul keeps a set of eyes on the glass doors.

Whenever someone attempts to enter the enclosure, all three go into defensive mode - Azul now taking a stance in front - or rather, over - you as the twins shift to lean over the edge of the pool, all three growling frighteningly and baring teeth at the intruders. It was also during the last week you noticed how their touches would linger longer on your skin, Azul - on more than one occasion - wrapping his tentacles around both your ankles, wrists, and your waist multiple times, leaving marks that had many of your coworkers arching brows at you.

"Not that I mind the interactions between the four of you, puppy," Crewel comments when you meet up with him and Trein at the end of the second month, two notebooks resting before you on the desk as Trein goes over them, "but the results we've seen are… kind of startling."

"I've noticed the trio has been a bit more aggravated than usual, as well," you answer.

"How so?"

You press your lips together, trying to think of the best way to describe the events of the previous week.

It wasn't uncommon for the trio to touch you - especially Azul, who seemed to now dominate the spotlight - however, those touches that had shifted from curiosity to protectiveness had now shifted to what you thought was longing. The trio's eyes would watch you intently when you were away from the edge of the pool - either as you were entering, getting their food ready, or preparing to leave - their gaze not once shifting away from your form. As soon as you had taken a seat at the poolside, all three were upon you in the same fashion following the "Splashing Crewel" incident. The twins would pull themselves up to sit behind you, pulling you into their arms while each of them grasped one hand to keep you still, as Azul would launch to lay on top of you with his tentacles curling around your legs and thighs. They would coo and click softly at you, noses running along the column of your neck and into your hair. It would take hours just for them to let you go, even with your soft pleading - only releasing you when you mentioned food. You also notice how the trio enjoy hearing your humming - it may have been the reason why they nuzzle at your neck, wishing to hear your voice bring whatever tune you happened to be humming out of your mouth.

As you explained this, Crewel’s and Trein's expressions turned dark.

"That is… unsettling," Trein answered after a moment.

"Perhaps those puppies should be put in place," Crewel thought aloud, crossing his arms and tapping a finger against his bicep.

"Why are they acting this way is what I'm concerned about," you answered.

"We couldn't be sure," Trein explained, "Personally, we've never had a keeper get this close to them, never mind see them react in this fashion."

"I would venture a guess as to say they might see you as a member of their 'family' or 'school'," Crewel answered, "Given the circumstances of your arrangement, I wouldn't be surprised if the reason they cling to you is primarily due to their worry when you are away from them."

"That’s what I was thinking as well," you nod in agreement.

"And as for the humming," Trein spoke, "Sound travels faster in the water than it does on land. Legends of merfolk often indicate that they are attracted to music - though it's typically the mers that use it to lure in unsuspecting prey."

"Do you think they were interested in my humming because of their love for music?"

"Perhaps," Trein nodded in agreement.

"I also noticed when they are, well, clinging to me, they also seem… warmer than usual?" You ask, trying to think of the proper terms, "I also noticed the water seemed visibly warmer too. Do you think their change in behavior may have something to do with it?"

"We'll have one of our men check it out," Crewel nodded, "If someone messed with the thermostat, we'll know."

You nod and leave the office, the door closing behind you.

"Think she's onto us?" Trein asked 

"Never trust anyone, Trein," Crewel pulled a cigarette out of its case, "even your own coworkers."

"I suppose with all of those hints we've dropped, if she hasn't figured out what our plan is yet she likely never will."

"The only thing we can do now is wait for the right time. Hopefully this will satisfy that crow's interest."

***

Unbeknownst to the world above, the waters of the enclosure shifted as the twin mers lounged about outside a built cave.

"Jaaade! I'm boooored!!" Floyd grumbled, shifting his body to drape over one of several rocks that lined the entrance to their dwelling, "I wanna play with Shrimpy!"

"In time, Floyd," His twin shifted, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the rocky walls, "Azul has to finish up the final piece. Besides, our little pearl isn't around right now to play with."

"This suuucks! Why couldn't we just pull her under when we had the chance?"

"She would never survive if we did that, Floyd. You know humans can't breathe underwater, nor swim like this. We need to bide our time, just a bit longer."

"Luckily we won't have to wait too much longer," Azul appeared in the entrance, his tentacles swaying with motion as he moved to greet his friends and fellow captives.

Both twins perked up, shark-like smiles appearing on their features.

"Did you make it?" Jade asked.

"It's almost complete, I just need scales from both of you," Azul answered.

"Sooo, what does our scales have to do with a mer potion?" Floyd asked.

“It will make our mate more compatible,” Azul answered, “In order for us to successfully, one, produce fry, and two, live with us, she needs to be our equivalent. A human mate isn’t a bad thing, we just need a bit more… well, given that those other two-legged monsters have been observing us for the past two years, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were planning on using her for something.”

“Hence we need to take precautions to make sure she’s safe and comfortable,” Jade followed through.

“Does that mean we can eat them?” Floyd asked.

“When the time is right, you’ll be able to squeeze those beasts who’ve harmed our mate to your heart’s desires,” Azul grinned, “Personally, I don’t think they would taste good, but if you want to eat them, by all means help yourself.”

Floyd grinned, all teeth and gums as he bounced giddily in the water.

“How long after the scales are added will we need to wait?” Jade asked, turning toward Azul.

“At least one week.”

“What’s the plan for our Shrimpy, then?”

Azul grinned, indicating for the twins to follow him into the lair, explaining things as they moved, “Our home here will only be temporarily. Once they realize their precious little angelfish is one of us, they will try every means to get her away from us to revert the process. When they make their move, we’ll be able to shift our focus to breaking out. I’ll need several things to create a temporary transformation potion that will allow one of us to move about the surface to transfer us back to the Coral Sea. And we’ll need to work fast - once (Y/N) lays those eggs, she’ll need to be protected and guarded at all times. I’d rather not have her lay them here - hence our haste to get her out of here.”

“And then the big family we’ve always dreamed of!”

“Indeed - so, two weeks?”

“Two weeks. When the moment is right, (Y/N) will be ours…”

[theogclownboy]

BONEZ HAPPY DAY OF BEING BORN!!!!! I HOPE YOUR BIRTHDAY GOES SWIMMINGLY AND YOU GET LOTS OF PRESENTS!!!!!!

the demons they........they call for more of the Dev and little Peri saga.......

our saga last ended with lil' Peri in timeout... what if he snuck out to cause MORE mischief? >:)) hohohohoo

again I hope you have an amazing birthday!!!!!

your birthday gift, your clowniness...

snek plush. most likely full of lil' beads that rattle around when shnaken (get it? shaken and snake? hahaa- I'm so funny) :]

aw!! I love the drawing! And I kinda want a snake plush like that now