#that scene before the battle where she cuts his hair and the love in his eyes

[clare-875]

Where Are You? (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)

_____ Pairings: (Separate) Luffy x Reader; Zoro x Reader; Sanji x Reader Summary: They can't find you after a battle. Warnings: Descriptions of injury and blood, angst, comfort, Marineford spoilers and slight PTSD for Luffy's, Female Reader [One Piece Masterlist] _____

- Luffy -

(A/N: This was angstier than I originally was going for, sorry!)

"Oi, Nami..." Luffy's gaze fights between untamed trepidation and utter despair as he looks down at his navigator, who bore the same look in her eyes. "Where's [y/n]?" There is a deep and unwavering silence until Nami speaks up from where she sat, exhausted, shaky voice reaching the air. "I-I thought she was with you, she stayed back to fight the enemy w-while I escaped. Luffy I-" More crewmates gather from the now destroyed town, wiping debris from themselves and cradling injuries won through their respective battles. "Hey, what's going on?" Zoro first interrupts the tense atmosphere as Nami gazes into her Captain's shadowed eyes, betraying rare worry. This battle had been formidable and deadly. It was obvious in the way the crew were clad with cuts and bruises, and it had been hours since you had been left to deal with your opponent. "I'm going to go look for her!" Luffy leaves the scene despite hearing the worried call from Nami and the confused words of the rest of the crew.

Normally, Luffy wouldn't be worried about his crewmates, especially you. He held them to a great standard and had great trust in them; there was nothing they couldn't overcome in his mind. However, he would be lying to say he wasn't worried for you now. Despite burying the feeling every time he and the crew faced battle, it was hard to ignore the lingering dread, especially after having experienced the potential consequences of warfare with Ace. He needed you safe. He needed you with him and his crew. He couldn't lose you too. Too much time has passed in his mind, and he flung his outstretched limbs as far as they would go, to the place where Nami had left you to fight. Maybe he was overreacting, but Luffy couldn't risk anything with you. You brought out that serious side in him, you brought forth the dread of losing someone again.

When Luffy finally makes his way to the scene he witnesses the destructions, etched with the uniqueness of your battle techniques. The ground had been upturned, buildings indented with impacts and smoking in the wake of your battle. In the midst, he sees your opponent, unconscious and lets relief fill his system; you have won. Then, his eyes scour the scene and land on whisps of [h/c] hair, which leads to a familiar face. Luffy feels his heart pound once, twice before picking up pace. You were there, but you were unconscious, were you-. Luffy runs, and he feels that unfamiliar feeling twist in his chest once more; dread, fear, worry. The emotions were so unnatural to him, but so was love, until you taught him the sensation. "[y/n]!!" He yells quickly, and reaches your side in an instant, as trembling hands take your bloodied face into his lap.

"Hey, [y/n]!! [y/n]!! Are you-"

Luffy doesn't know what to do and considers running you back to Chopper. But finally, he sees it: your eyes. They flutter open and your gaze adjusts to the sight of Luffy, except his face is adorned with emotions you had yet to familiarise yourself with. "L-Luffy?" You sit up steadily, wincing slightly, but okay nonetheless. Your boyfriend stares in silence, and your concern only deepens at his far-away gaze. You grab his shoulders gently, "Hey, Luffy... are you okay?" A moment passes before Luffy shakes his head from his trance, as though finally with you again. "Y-Yeah." You frown deeper at his uncharacteristic response, but you know deep down the events of Marineford are still fresh in his mind.

When Luffy looks at you, he can only grip at his reality and try to acknowledge that you are there with him... that you are alive and safe. Your eyes linger on his face as you pull him into a hug that he didn't know he needed. "I'm sorry Luffy, I must've passed out, let's go now. I'm sure there's a banquet waiting for us." With that, Luffy finally shakes free from the haunting feeling that lingered just earlier. You finally witness the quirk of his lips as he nods and tells you to hold on to him. He flings you back to the crew that waves and smiles at you in relief. That night, Chopper frantically checks up on you anyway, and Luffy pays closer attention to you. You on the other hand make sure Luffy's lingering smile deepens, and returns to that full, wide, joy you know it should always encompass

As the night loiters on, you see the normalcy seep back into celebration. By the end, Luffy dances with you and eats like his life depends on it. You smile softly and he grins; all is well in his world because all is well with you.

- Sanji -

"[y/n]-san!!" Sanji's eyes are almost wild as they turn left to right, his legs lit aflame as he moves across the destroyed town, searching every nook for a glimpse of your face. Worry pounds in his chest and he barely has the time to care that he has gone and lost his composure. "Sanji-kun!" Nami speaks up from behind him, but she barely has the will to keep up her angry facade when she witnesses concern radiating from the cook; she was worried too, after all. Nami sighs heavily as Sanji looks at her with his teeth gritted. "Calm down, I'm sure she's alright, maybe-" Her words are meant to be of comfort, but Sanji has been looking through the town for too long, and he merely needs you with him again. He needs you safe and in his arms. So though trying to hold onto words spilled in their reassurance, only you could calm the worry he holds now.

"Oi, Sanji!" The cook turns at the sound of Luffy's voice as he bounds over, rare sincerity coming from his Captain. "Have you found her yet?" Sanji could do nothing but shake his head because he hadn't. He can't find you. It had been hours since you were left to deal with your opponent, and he had found them battered and obviously defeated by you. But where were you? He had been searching with some of his crew for a while now, and every instant he felt his hope start to slip away; he felt failure creep up on him. In his mind, it was his duty to make sure that you were safe; he hated even the faintest scratch on your skin. But he also wanted to place his trust in you. Despite having to resist his instinct to protect, he wanted you to fight your own battles for your own pride, but now he feels himself regretting having run off with another enemy; he should've stayed by your side.

Sanji continues through the barren streets, and he prays to whatever being he has to pray to, holding on to the slim hope that you are safe. As crew members also disperse in their concern for you, he pulls back the debris, now almost scared to see what he could find. Were you injured? Were you taken? Were you- "S-Sanji..." For a moment, the blond-haired cook freezes and he feels his heart beat faster, if that were even possible. "S-Sanji, that you?" Sanji had never raced towards the sound of someone's voice faster than he had in that moment. "[y/n]-san!? [y/n], where are you?" He is met with the quiet once again, and he fears it might've been a trick of his mind until finally, your voice lingers once again. "Here, I'm trapped... can't breathe." His eyes turn sharply to a building, and beneath the debris, he eyes your arm reaching upwards, desperately trying to gather his attention. "[y/n]-san..."

Sanji moves as though his life depends on it, ripping away rubble and fragments of building built upon you. His hands bleed by the end of it but he doesn't seem to care because finally, he sees your face. "Love!" Sanji, tears away the final pieces of destruction that had piled around you and gently pulls you free from your encasement. He gathers you in his arms and his embrace, relishing your warm body against his. "S-Sanji." When the cook finds the will to pull away he allows relief to wash away his dread, but not the concern as he sees your half-lidded eyes, straining in your exhaustion. "Love, let me find Chopper." You had never seen Sanji so serious. He holds you in his arms and runs as fast as his legs would take him, lit ablaze as he scours the scene for the sight of the crew's doctor.

When he finally does, he wastes no time.

"Chopper!" Almost immediately there is action, as crewmembers gather at the sight of you in Sanji's arms, and Chopper's eyes widen at the state you're in. "[y/n]!" You had lost consciousness by the time the small reindeer could look over your state, and Sanji silently suffered his worry once more, reaching for a cigarette. Long moments pass in the aftermath, and it is only hours later when you wake amid celebrations of victory. When you turn to your side, Sanji is already there, watching crewmembers feast upon the banquet that marks the end of another fight. As he turns and meets your eyes, you see them widen and you smile gently. "Love! You're awake, thank God!" Sanji reaches over to you and you laugh as you gather him in your arms. "I-I'm so sorry. If I had-" But you cut off your lover and you hush him quickly with the clasp of your hand around his.

"Thank you, for saving me."

Sanji looks down on you, battered and bruised but safe and with him. He smiles softly at you and squeezes your hand in his, as though in silent promise: he would never see you lost to him again. You grin at the serene expression that has finally filled his face but are interrupted by the rumble of your stomach as you pause and feel heat rush to your face. "I- I guess I am a bit hungry after all the-" But of course, you barely have to finish your sentence. Sanji has a platter in his hand, full of all the foods you could want with determination in his eyes. "Please, let me love." In that moment, you let Sanji take care of you because it seemed that was what he longed to do, after holding onto his concern for so long. Just never leave him in that state again, he doesn't know if he could take that.

- Zoro -

You gasp as you pull your limbs out of the debris that had fallen in the impacts of your battle. You cradle an arm you know had likely broken and take in a stuttering breath as you pull yourself back to your feet. Almost instantly, you feel pain. Great, you think to yourself, a broken arm and a broken ankle, just what I needed. You momentarily lose balance before gritting your teeth and forcing yourself still. The battle had been more tedious and time-consuming than you had originally hoped, but in your mind, it was worth it to witness your agitating opponent finally bite the dust. You gaze upward towards the falling sun. You had let too much time pass, and you had to get back to your crew; you had to make sure they were safe. So, despite the pain you limp and try to ignore the raging discomfort as you make your way further from your fallen foe.

Quite a ways further from you, Zoro looked around him whilst trying to deny that it was worry he felt at the lack of your presence. Crew members were now having their injuries checked up on or being slowly pulled into preparations to celebrate victory. Too busy being doted on by grateful, new friends or being lulled into the temptation of food and drink, there hadn't been much time to settle and do a head count. But Zoro noticed; of course, he did. He could deny all he wanted, but you were the first thing he looked for post-battle. He had great trust in you and your abilities; you were strong, dependable and courageous. He never doubted you, but time ticked on, and unrest ate up at him. Where were you? You should be here by now.

"Where's [y/n]?"

Robin is the next crewmember to look around in concern at your absence but she is the first to actually voice the lack of you. Her words catch the attention of other crewmates as Nami and Sanji also turn and look around the vicinity. "Now that you mention it... when was the last time any of you saw her?" Zoro's heart rate only picks up further despite eyeing his crewmates in silence, listening as they question your whereabouts. Luffy starts to bound over as he witnesses his crew start to clump together, worry betraying them. "What's happening?" Zoro turns once his Captain has entered the fray, already having started to move before registering the rest of the crew's increasingly uttered words. "Oi, Marimo, wait you'll get lost before you even-" But he is too far by the time Sanji notices that Zoro has gone, most likely to look for you. "Tch, we should send someone else to look for [y/n]-san too."

Zoro walks briskly through the barren streets and takes himself far from where the smoke of the campfire rages behind him, marking the beginning of a banquet. His keen ears pick up on odd sounds in the area, but none of them are you, and his horrible sense of direction has betrayed him again. Where were you? It was dark now, and the moon lingered in the sky. Abruptly, there is a tangible dread that twists uncomfortably in the swordsman's chest; he knows that you should've been back by now. If you weren't something must've happened, but Zoro refuses to acknowledge what that 'something' could be. Surely you wouldn't be- Suddenly, there is a ruffle of trees to his far right and he turns quickly, instincts forcing his hands to his swords. Someone was here. "Oi, show yourself!" There is a tense silence, until finally, Zoro hears the one thing he had been hoping for: your voice.

"Really Zoro? You can't even recognise your own girlfriend?"

Amid trees and branches, you finally break away into the clearing albeit with exhaustion and injury weighing you down. You breathe heavily and you would never say it but you felt such relief at seeing Zoro, that you could cry. But, your pride holds your tears and instead, you smile, grinning at him and holding yourself up with as much strength as you can muster. The swordsman who looks at you finally feels the worry dissipate but his eyes travel your form and the way your arm bends an awkward way or how you clearly favour one leg to the other. "Oi, [y/n], what took you so long?" Zoro lets out a deep sigh as he relaxes his stance but would rather die than admit his concern to you, and so masks it behind nonchalant words. You, however, have hoarded so much pain, that you feel as though on the brink of collapse.

"Yeah, yeah, help me out here?" You reach out to him, longing for some sort of support, but Zoro's sharp eyes widen as he sees you topple. Almost instantly you feel warm arms wrap around you. When next you open your eyes you are cradled against your boyfriend's chest and held firm but gently. Your gaze drifts to his face and you laugh as you see the slight flush of red fill his cheeks. "Where you worried, Zoro?" You tease, trying to lighten the mood, but your head lulls into him, as you finally feel the safety of being back in his arms. "Tch, don't be ridiculous." You smile softly, too tired to reply, but you point in the opposite direction of where he walks. "Zoro, that way." You mutter against him and he turns sharply, a more fierce blush rising to his face. You laugh before letting sleep pull you in. Zoro almost starts yelling in panic until he sees you have merely drifted off; you don't see the worry he held onto just moments earlier, almost causing him to turn the town over to find you.

"Don't do that again, idiot." His words are murmured to you, and he holds you closer, but you don't hear them, too far in your sleep.

[written-with-clouds]

I Found Love (Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be) Pt. 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen/ Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: You and Aemond had always been close, even after he lost his eye and your mom moved your family to Dragonstone. What will happen when your grandsire dies and Aegon takes the throne from your mother? Will you and Aemond be able to stay together? Or will family drive you apart?

Authors Note: Cross posted on AO3, Aemond and Reader are of legal age during all spicy scenes.

CW: Uncle/Niece, Secret Relationship, Minor Character is badly injured

Part 1 Part 3

You stand alongside your brothers, watching as your mother and Daemon burn your dead-born sister. Joffrey clings to your legs, unsure of the sadness that permeates the air, and you pet a hand soothingly through his mop of brown hair. A few stray tears running down your cheeks. 

The wind carries the sound of armored footsteps approaching. You turn, seeing a lone Kingsguard, not one of your own, carefully approaching your mother where she stands atop a small rocky hill. He bends the knee before her, holding out your late grandsire’s crown.

“I swear to ward the Queen, with all my strength… and give my blood for hers.” The Kingsguard starts, Daemon approaches him, taking the crown from his hands, as he continues. “I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor.”

 You hold your breath, watching as Daemon slowly returns to your mother and gently places the crown upon her head. He kneels before her and you watch as the other inhabitants of Dragonstone follow, kneeling down before her in a show of fealty. You and your brothers follow suit, bowing your heads to your mother.

The next days go by in a blur. Jace is sent north to secure the support of House Stark and the Eyrie, Luke sent to Storm’s End. Rhaenys leaves on Meleys, to patrol over the barrier made to cut off all sea trade to King’s Landing. Beala patrols over Dragonstone with her sister, Rhaena, on their dragons. 

You, on the other hand, are left to watch your youngest brothers. You spend your days trying to entertain a seven year old Joffery, corral a four year old Aegon III, and keep a two year old Viserys II from eating loose stone. And even with the help of the wetnurses and maids, it is a daunting task. 

During the night, your mind wanders to Aemond. At first you were angry, fuming, at the fact that he could stand aside and let his brother usurp the throne. That he would then, in turn, ask you to leave your own family behind. Then, you were sad. You would sit in your bed night after night and reread all of the letters he had sent you over the years. From the beginning, when you had first moved to Dragonstone. When he had first asked to meet with you in private, in the very same spot you had just days ago said goodbye to him. To the few letters he had sent in the days following your last meeting. 

Meet me at the island, please. I need to see you one last time. 

I waited for you. I will wait again tonight. Please come.

I am to leave King's Landing tomorrow, please meet with me tonight. Kostilus, ñuha jorrāelagon, (Please, my love,). I will be waiting, as always.

I leave today. Avy jorrāelan (I love you)

Luke was the first of your brothers to return. 

He had been badly burned. The right side of his body had taken the brunt of it, the skin peeling and red. Arrax was only slightly better, his wings and scales singed and ash covered. Luke’s screams echoed throughout the whole of Dragonstone as the Maester’s worked to help him. After hours of listening to him cry and scream, you had had enough. 

You walked along the coastline, fighting to keep your composure. In the end, it was a losing battle. You screamed, chucking rocks into the ocean and kicking sand around until you exhausted yourself. Collapsing to the ground, you wailed. For you or for Luke, you couldn’t tell. You cried for what must have been hours, every frustration and tension leaving your body. Over time you tired, curling into yourself, your eyes drifting closed.

You woke up in your room, laying overtop the blankets of your bed, still clothed for the day. Glancing outside you could see that night had long taken over, the sky filled with a crescent moon and glittering stars.

“You’re awake,” you turn to find your mother sitting in a lounge chair by the hearth. Rhaenyra stands, walking over to you and placing the back of her hand against your forehead. “Are you feeling alright, darling? We hadn’t seen you for hours and then Ser Erryk had carried you inside. He said he found you on the shore, asleep and trembling.” Her voice was laced with worry. 

“I went for a walk to get some fresh air and grew tired.. I must have fallen asleep.” You say, “I’m sorry to have worried you.” 

She sits next to you on the bed, pulling you against her in a hug and petting your hair. “It’s alright darling, I’m just happy you're safe.” The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night. 

Rhaenyra speaking breaks the silence. At first, you don't realize she had asked you a question. But when she repeats herself, your blood runs cold. 

“You were close with your uncle Aemond… weren’t you?” You pull back from her, sitting up to look at your mother. 

“Why do you ask?” You inquire, heart beating loudly in your chest. 

“In truth, I’ve noticed that something has changed in you. I had no hope of knowing what it was without you telling me and had long resigned myself to not knowing… until tonight.” Your mother paused, standing from your bed and walking over to the small table next to the lounge she had been resting on. Your heart beats impossibly louder inside you as she picks up the letters Aemond had sent you. You had forgotten to put them away. “I read some of them… it’s nice.. that you had formed a good relationship with your uncle. You are perhaps the only one of us that could…” 

You watch as she measures her next words, thinking over the best way to say them. 

“But, I hope you will understand that this cannot and will not continue.” 

You stand abruptly, “What! Why? Because of Aegon? Because of this fight between you and Queen Alicent?” 

“Not just that dear.” She walks over to you, running her hands down your arms and grabbing your hands gently, “It’s–“ 

Interrupting her, pull your hands out of her grasp, walk out onto the balcony, and cross your arms over your chest. Turning to face her as she follows you, “It’s what? I need a reason, an explanation. A good one, not just some excuse about who his family is.”

“Aemond is the one responsible for Luke’s pain,” she says calmly. 

Whatever anger you held in that moment shattered. “He… n-no.. you’re lying! He may have had his problems with Luke when they were children.. but he’d never give that sort of command! Aemond wouldn’t do that!” You wrap your arms around yourself as you begin to pace. “It isn’t true,” you whisper as if trying to comfort yourself. 

Your mother stands in place, watching your inner battle. Her expression shows nothing but sympathy as she speaks again, “He didn’t just command it, dear..” Her words are gentle. 

You abruptly stop, facing away from your mother. “You don’t– He didn’t–“ you struggle to find the words, tears clouding your vision. 

“He… Aemond was the one to burn Luke.” Your mother’s words are drowned out by the ringing that fills your ears. Letting out a sharp cry, you drop to your knees sobbing. You jerk away from your mothers touch when she tries to console you with a hand placed on your shoulder. “Leave.” You whisper, crying into your hands. You listen as Rhaenyra’s footsteps recede and the door to your room opens and closes.

You didn’t leave your room for days… maybe even a full week. Servants brought food to you, even if most of it didn’t remain in your stomach. Most days you didn’t dress, remaining in your sleepwear and staring blankly out across the sea. When you weren’t transfixed on the water, you were sat at your desk. You wrote what must have been dozens of short letters, none of which would ever be sent. 

How could you?

Did your hatred for Luke outweigh your love for me?

Why did you do it? 

I hate you. 

I’ll never forgive you. 

I still love you.

It’s when Jace returns from the North that you finally decide to leave the safety of your room. Dressed for the first time in days, you join the council to welcome your brother, much to your mothers surprise. 

“Welcome home, Prince Jacaerys.” Your mother spoke warmly. “What news do you bring us?” 

Your brother bowed his head in greeting, one hand resting over top the hilt of his sword. “The Lady Jeyne Arryn has pledged her support to you. In return, she requests a dragon be sent for protection.” 

Your mother nods approvingly, “and the North?” 

“Lord Cregan Stark has promised two thousand men…” Jace hesitates slightly, glancing to you and then to your mother. 

“Does he request something in return?” You ask.

He nods, answering. “Yes, He asks for (Y/N)’s hand in marriage.” 

Your eyes widen and you watch your mother. Nothing in her expression gives away what she is thinking as she replies with a gentle, “Please send a raven North. Let Lord Stark know we will accept the terms of his offer.” 

“What?” You say loudly, “Mother you can’t be serious!” 

“We need to secure-“ Your mother starts, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“-Secure all the support we can.” You finish for her. “I know. But marrying me off to someone… a stranger at that? Sending me North? You’re okay with that?!” 

She sighs deeply, placing her hand against the table. “Give us the room.” At her words, everyone in the room left. All but you and Jace, who hovered by the door, unsure of what to do. “Jacaerys, you may leave as well… go get cleaned up. Visit your brother.”

“Mother I–“ You start to say. After the door thuds shut behind your brother.

Rhaenyra shushes you, standing and walking over to you. Her jaw is clenched as she takes your hands in hers. Exhaling sharply through her nose and closing her eyes briefly to gather her thoughts. “I don’t want to send you away. I don’t want you to be seen as a prize or bargaining chip.” She reaches up to cup your face, “You are my daughter.. My first born… But I have to make choices I don’t want to make.” 

Her voice cracks and you can see a tear fall down her cheek. Your brow furrows as you step away from her, shaking your head in disbelief. “No…” you say softly, almost in a whisper. 

“We need the men,” She follows after you carefully, like you’re a wild animal that she is trying to tame. “The Starks are good people… they’re loyal and just… you’ll be safe there… protected.” 

“But I won’t be happy.” You spit. 

“You don’t know that..” Your mother bargains. 

“I will be miserable. I will be nothing more than a trophy won in a war. A bargaining chip. A piece of the puzzle. A pawn in your game to move as you wish!” You scream at her. 

She eyes you sympathetically, her expression holding nothing but pity. She sighs deeply before calling for Ser Erryk. “Take her to her room. She is not to leave Dragonstone until I have given explicit permission. I want one guard posted outside her door and her dragon is to be supervised at all hours. She goes nowhere without a guard or me. Am I understood?”

“Mother–“

“Yes, My lady.” Ser Erryk grabs your arm firmly, not enough to hurt but enough that you can’t twist out of it. He escorts you back to your room. Muttering a quiet apology before shutting the door.

You spent the next week pacing in your room. Throwing things against the door while screaming until your throat was raw. At first, your mother would try to visit only to be turned away with insults or ignored completely. Jace would sit with after night had fallen and update you on Luke’s recovery. The only happiness you felt was in hearing that Luke was fine. He would scar, but otherwise be okay. Even his walking was expected to recover nearly completely over time. These conversations were possibly the only reason you hadn’t gone insane. 

On the seventh day of your confinement, you overheard the guards outside your door speaking with each other. 

“How long do you think this’ll continue? I’m gettin’ bored of standin’ outside a door for hours.” One whispered. 

“Not much longer I think,” There was a long pause where all you could hear was the slight shifting of metal. “I heard that Lord Stark is sailin’ here to claim his prize.” The second guard jokes, groaning after what sounds like he got hit in the stomach. 

“Don’t speak about the Princess like that.. she could hear ya.” The first guard whisper-yells. 

At the mention of Stark, you paled. Your heart stuttered and your breathing increased. Stepping away from the door you rushed out to the balcony, hands gripping the short stone wall so hard you cut your hand in a few places. You can’t feel the pain though, as you struggle to catch your breath. Tears cloud your vision for the thousandth time in the past three weeks. Slumping to the floor as your legs give out, you draw them towards your chest. Wrapping your arms around them tightly. 

You sit there, gulp down whatever air you can for what feels like forever. You distantly hear a knock at your door. And another when you don’t answer. A few moments pass silently before the sound of a door opening startles you. You quickly push yourself backwards, attempting to hide within the shadows of the setting sun. Fearing that Lord Stark was closer than you assumed, that he had arrived at Dragonstone to take you. 

Instead, in the archway leading to your balcony stood Luke. He walked with wooden crutches to support his weight and he had bandages adorning his right leg and most of his right arm. He carefully made his way to you. Unable to crouch or kneel, he leans back against the short wall. 

Looking at you with concern and confusion, “What’s wrong.. am I so horribly disfigured that you hide from me?” He tries to joke. Hoping to lighten the mood and set you at ease.

You don’t move, only lifting your head to meet his eyes. “I can’t stay here…” you whisper, it’s barely audible over the breeze that passes through. When Luke doesn’t respond you speak again, “I need to leave… please Luke, I need help.. I can’t be forced into a marriage.. please– please help me..” you beg. 

Luke considers you for a moment, deep in thought, before he speaks again. Sighing loudly, “Fine…” he says finally. “Tonight, after the guards last check, tie your sheets together and anchor them to the balcony. Climb down them and get to the shore line on the far east, there is a small boat tied to some rocks. No one will see you with how dark it gets, and by the time they do you’ll be gone.” 

You take in his words, committing them to memory, before standing slowly. “Thank you, Luke..” You hug him, mindful of his wounds. 

By the time Luke leaves your room, the sun has set completely and the moon is visible. As he leaves, you thank him one last time and ask how he knew of the boat. Luke simply turns to look at you over his shoulder and mutters a quiet, 

“I have my secrets like everyone else.”

The moon was at its highest by the time you reached King’s Landing. You pulled the hood of your cloak over your head to conceal your face as you carefully walked through the streets. 

Quietly you slinked through hidden hallways of the Red Keep, following the same winding path you have for years. Stopping only once you stood in front of the familiar backing to a painting. You strained your ears, listening for movement in the room on the other side of the painting. When you heard nothing after several minutes, you slowly pushed the painting away from the wall and climbed out into the room. Before you can put the painting back into place, you’re shoved against the wall with a dagger placed at your throat. 

“I thought you’d be happy to see me..” You joke weakly. The dagger hits the floor with a loud clink and your hood is yanked off of your head. Hands grip your biceps tightly, as if afraid that you’ll run the second their grip loosens. 

“Is it– Are you really here?” Aemond whispers into the space between you. He isn’t wearing his eyepatch, the sapphire gem reflecting the light from the fireplace. 

You reach a hand up and gently trace along his scar, just as you had so many times in the past. You give him a small smile as tears well up in your eyes like they had so many times these past weeks. Although, unlike the other tears you’ve shed, these are tears of joy. 

“I’m here…” you reassure Aemond, resting your forehead against his. “I’ve missed you..”

Aemond breathes a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he relaxes. His hands move from your biceps, one cupping the side of your face and neck while the other rests against your hip. The two of you stand in silence, enjoying the peace of being near each other. Of being in the other's embrace. 

“I wrote to you…” he whispered.

“I know.” You respond equally as quiet. “I wrote many responses.. and even more questions… none of which I could bring myself to send.” 

Aemond took a shuddering breath, pulling back to look you in the eye. He cupped your face in both hands, his thumbs rubbing against your cheeks, “I’m sorry… about Luke, I– I didn’t mean to hurt him…” 

You shush him, bring your hands to rest on his forearms. “I believe you,”

He swallows, Adams apple bobbing, carefully asking “Did– is Luke… dead?” 

You’re shaking your head no before he finishes his question. “Luke is alive and healing. He will be fine.” 

Aemond nods. It’s a small, barely there, movement that had you not been so close to him you wouldn’t have seen it. 

As silence falls over the two of you once again, you gently remove his hands from your face. Releasing them only to remove your cloak. You grab one of Aemond’s hands and guide him to his bed, softly instructing him to lay down. You climb into the bed after him, curling up alongside his body with your head resting against his chest. He holds you against him with an arm around your back that rests on your hip. His other hand lays flat against his stomach. 

“Why did you come here?” Aemond asks. You can hear his heart beating against his chest, a dead giveaway to how unsure he is. “Why return to me? When I waited for you… I was sure I’d never see you again..” 

“I needed to leave…” you say simply. Your hand traces nonsense along his torso and over the back of his hand. “Dragonstone was becoming a prison…” 

You feel Aemond tense beside you. “What do you mean?” He asks carefully. 

You sigh deeply, “While my eldest brothers were off on their dragons, securing allies for our mother, I was stuck on Dragonstone babysitting my youngest brothers…” as if he can sense your hesitation in continuing, Aemond squeezes your arm reassuringly. “When Luke returned… my mother practically doubled the workload of the guards. Especially those that protected my brothers and I.. it was all very suffocating.” 

“And this caused you to leave?” He asked carefully. You shifted in his arms, propping yourself up on one elbow. 

“Yes… but not just that…” You trail off again, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Aemond watched you worriedly as you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. “What is it, Issa jorrāelagon (my love)? What happened?”

“Lord Cregan Stark asked for my hand in marriage… and in return, he promised two thousand men. My mother accepted and, when I refused, she locked me inside my room.” Your jaw clenched as anger welled inside you, Aemond’s arm tightening around your waist. “I sat there for a week… trapped and miserable, with guards outside my door and under my balcony all day and all night. I could do nothing but sit and wait. When I heard that Lord Stark would soon be arriving.. I decided, for sure, that I needed to leave.. funny enough, it was Luke who helped.. whether or not he knew of us I couldn’t say…”

Aemond was quiet for a moment. Taking in what you had experienced, the fact that your own mother would do this surprised him. He expected it from his own mother… but he always assumed yours cared more for her children than Alicent. “What matters is that you are here now. And I will not let you go again.” Another beat of silence. “Marry me, Issa jorrāelagon (my love).” 

You breathe out a quick laugh gazing down at Aemond. “That alone would start a war, Aemond… our families would never allow it…”

“Then we won’t tell them.” He sits up hastily, nearly knocking his forehead against yours in the process. “We can leave. Leave Kings Landing… leave Dragonstone.. hells, even lease Westeros if need be.”

“Aemond–“ he continues to speak, cutting you off.

“We can start a new life together.. just us, our dragons… maybe a kid or two somewhere down the line..” 

“I–I would really like that..” you say, smiling dreamily as you imagine it. “We should leave soon.. they’ll notice I’m gone come sunrise..” 

“Then we will leave before that..” Aemond guides you to lay back against the bed, smirking as he kisses along your jaw.

“We should leave now.. no one is awake… no one would notice.” You whisper. You gasp as he licks along your neck. Your skin heats up from the warmth of his breath as he sucks against your pulse point, likely leaving a mark. You feel him hum a ‘no’ against your skin as he continues to kiss gently along your neck and collarbone. “Aemond~” you drawl. 

Stopping his assault on your neck, he lifts up to meet your gaze, “We will leave… as soon as I’ve had a taste of you..” 

Aemond returns his attention to your neck as his hands work deftly to remove your dress. The feel of the soft fabric sliding down and off of your body elicits goosebumps and the chill of the room hitting your skin causes you to shiver. Aemond kisses every newly exposed part of flesh, marking his way down your body. Sitting back in his heels, he tugs the dress off of your legs and tosses it aside. Your underwear follows suit. 

“This feels a little one sided,” you joke, looking through half lidded eyes. 

He simply laughs to himself, tugging his own shirt up over his head and tossing it to join your dress. His pants follow soon after along with his underwear. Quirking an eyebrow he smirks at you, “Better, issa jorrāelagon (my dear)?” He teases. 

Aemond hooks his arms under each of your thighs as he makes himself comfortable between them. He lays his hands flat against your stomach and gently kisses your inner thigh. You watch with bated breath as he sticks out his tongue and runs it through your folds. The tip barely manages to push inside you before it is removed again. He groans against you, the vibrations causing your hips to stutter. Aemonds hands held you in place, trapped against him as he devoured you like a starved man. 

“Aemond! Fuck.. oh gods, it feels good!” You moan. Despite the hold he has on you, your hips manage to grind against him with small circular motions. One hand fists the sheets below you as the other tangles into his hair. 

Aemond lifts his head to look at you, licking his lips before saying, “Nyke jorrāelagon se sylutegon hen ao, issa dōna (I love the taste of you, my sweet),” One of his hands shifts down so that his thumb lays overtop your clit. You gasp as he begins to circle his thumb around it. “It’s sweet and far more addictive than any wine in the whole of Westeros.” 

Your breath catches on a moan as Aemond continues to ravish you. He thrusts his tongue into you as far as it will go while his thumb quickly works over your sensitive clit. You writhe against him as you bring your hand up to cup your breast, flicking and pulling at your nipple. Your eyes shut as your head falls back against the pillows, back arching, as two fingers join his tongue. His fingers curl inside you, coaxing moans and shuddering gasps from your mouth. Heat pools in the bottom of your stomach as your climax rapidly approaches, Aemonds name falling from your lips like a prayer, begging for more. His tongue and fingers working in earnest as you writhe against him feverishly. The hand in his hair gripping and anchoring him against you. Your thighs tremble on either side of his head as your orgasm explodes through you. Your eyes rolling back and head falling limply to the side with a drawn out moan flowing from your mouth. 

Aemond works you through your climax, thumb gently rubbing over your clit as his tongue and fingers slowly continue to stretch your entrance. It isn’t until you’re whining and struggling against him from overstimulation, that he stops and pulls back. Making a show of sucking his fingers, soaked with your release, into his mouth and moaning around them before pulling them out with a pop. 

He looks over your body, skin glistening in the candle light. His eyes darken and he smiles. You meet his gaze as he crawls up the length of your body and captures your lips with his own. You moan into him, your tongues dancing against each other and you can taste yourself on him. Your arms wrap around his middle, hooking up to rake your nails down his back. You smirk into the kiss, hearing his sharp intake of breath and feeling his muscles spasm under your hands. You break the kiss, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth gently. He growls, chasing after your lips. You smile, chuckling lightly at his failed attempts to recapture your lips as you turn your face away from him. You position your mouth next to his ear, biting the lobe gently.

“Nyke jorrāelagon ao isse issa, sir (I need you in me, now).” You whisper into his ear before licking the shell of it. “Kostilus gaomagon daor mazverdagon issa umbagon (Please do not make me wait).” 

Aemond shifts above you reaching a hand down and running it through your folds before quickly fisting his cock, using your arousal to slick himself. He guides his length to your entrance, prodding against you. “Skorkydoso kostagon nyke vestragon daor skori ao epagon sīr sȳrī (How can I say no when you ask so well)?” 

Slowly, He pushes in. “You’re doing so well, issa jorrāelagon (my love).” Aemond praises. He runs his hands soothingly over your body, trying to help you relax as you adjust to his size. “You’re taking me so well… sīr vok (so perfect)... made just for me,” He groans, bottoming out inside you. 

He remains still, placing kisses against your shoulders, your jaw, your temple, any part of you his mouth could reach. Whispering praises into your ear and against your mouth as he kisses you softly. 

After a few moments of his gentle kisses and featherlight caresses, you shift your hips against him. “You- you can move now…” 

Aemond sets a slow pace. Languidly thrusting into you as he continued to kiss the exposed skin of your neck and shoulder. Your hands roam over the expanse of his torso, feeling the muscles shift under your touch with each roll of his hips. You move a hand up to cup the side of Aemond’s face, pulling him to you. You lightly press your lips to his scar before kissing his lips. Pulling away from the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours. His forearms, placed on either side of your head, support him as the two of you enjoy the feel of being so closely entwined. You roll your hips to meet his with every thrust in, moaning as you feel him sink deeper into you. 

As Aemonds arms tire, he repositions the two of you. He now lays behind you with his arms wrapped around your torso as he rocks into you from behind. In this position Aemond can freely run his hands over your body. One hand coming down to work over your clit, matching the speed of his thrusts. You cant your hips back against him as best you can, growing closer to release and seeking out more pleasure. The sound of Aemond’s breathy groans next to your ear only spurring you on. 

Aemond finishes first, hips stuttering as he releases inside you. His breath is hot on the back of your neck as he groans before panting against you. You follow soon after, climaxing around his cock as his hand still works over your clit. As your body relaxes into his, Aemond pulls out. 

He untangles himself from you, standing from the bed with a hushed promise of returning as your whine. When he does return, it’s with a rag and sleepwear. Aemond gently cleans his spend from between your legs before cleaning himself off. He tosses the rag into a wicker basket, quickly dresses himself and then helps your sluggish body into the garments. Finally, he climbs back into the bed behind you, pulling a blanket up over your bodies. 

You turn to face Aemond, tucking yourself against him as he wraps his arms around you once again. He kisses your forehead, whispering promises of the future you two will have. “Rest for now, issa jorrāelagon (my love), We’ll leave soon.” He whispered to you, his own eye feeling heavy. It wasn’t long until you both had drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

You stir slightly at the sound of a door opening and armored footsteps rushing into the room. In your sleep dreary state, you think nothing of it. Snuggling back against Aemond. 

It isn’t until you are being forcefully pulled from the bed that you comprehend that something is wrong. You scream and thrash against the man that is holding you, kicking your feet wildly and twisting your body to try and loosen his grip. The man's grip remains secure throughout your flailing, and eventually you give up.

Aemond is on his feet in seconds, dagger in hand, as he watches the men that had entered his room. Kings Guards. He scowls, taking notice of the several fully armored guards now standing in around him. His gaze shoots to where you stand when he hears you whimper. Shackles had been placed tightly around your wrists. Aemond starts to walk towards you, but is stopped by two Kings Guards as they each grab an arm. He fights against them, trying to pull his arms free only to stop at the sound of heels entering the room. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Aemond snarls, fighting against the guards' hold. 

“She is a traitor to the crown.” Queen Alicent responds calmly, her hands clasped in front of her. “We have it in good faith that she is here to either spy or harm the king and his family. Neither are risks I am willing to take.” 

“She is of no concern to you.” He manages to free one arm, “She will not harm anyone here, you have my word, mother. Let her go. She will leave Kingslanding and not return. This need not go any farther.” Aemond bargains, pleading with his mother with more emotion than Queen Alicent had seen from him. 

Queen Alicent considers her son for a moment, watching as his gaze shifts to yours. His eye softening as he tries to reassure you silently. The hand he had pulled free twitching at his side as if fighting to not reach for you. She turns her gaze to you, shaking slightly in fear but trying not to show it. Your eyes, wide as a doe, never leaving Aemond’s as you take in rapid breaths. 

“Take her to the dungeons,” She spoke authoritatively. 

“No!” Aemond roars, fighting harder against the guards trying to restrain him. 

“Aemond!” You say, panicking as the guards force you out of the room. Aemond yells, just barely managing to free his second arm before a guard punches him in the stomach. He doubles over with a groan, coughing roughly. 

Queen Alicent calmly walks over to him and places her hand against his cheek. “This is for the better, my dear. This will pass with time.” She quietly says before turning and leaving the room. The guards release Aemond and he drops to the floor. 

When the door to his room shuts, he slowly stands. Grabbing the nearest object, a vase of black and gold, he throws it as hard as he can. It smashes against the far wall of his room, shattering to pieces before it can even touch the ground. Aemond continues his rampage until there is no part of his room left untouched by his rage. Until he sees something laying on the floor.

Stopping dead in his tracks as he goes to smash another object, there on the floor lays your dress. Discarded carelessly earlier in the night, when Aemond still held you in his arms. 

The object clatters to the floor as Aemond follows, his knees giving out beneath him. Gently and with more care than he has ever shown to anyone but you, he lifts the garment in his hands. Bringing it to his face, he inhales. He can still smell your perfume, the hints of rose intertwining with the scent of ash wood from Dragonstone. 

Silent tears soak the fabric as Aemond cries, still holding the garment to him. He never thought himself a religious man, but in that moment, Aemond prayed. He prayed, to any god that would listen or care, for your safety. And that you would return to him.

Aemond stood on shaky legs and walked to his bed, uncaring in shards of glass cut his feet. He lay on top of his sheets, curled around your dress protectively. Aemond remains there, on the bed, crying silently until he is unable to keep his eye open.

Part 1 Part 3

[reidsworld]

In the Arms of Eternity

Summary: After holding your dying body in his arms, Elijah realises what he has to do to protect you, even if it means breaking your heart in the process. Based on this request.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Human!Reader

Category: Angst

Content Warnings: more hurt than comfort (sorry), happy ending, blood, cursing, arguing

Word Count: 3k

Mars speaks… Thank you so much for requesting this, I really hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

The battle had ended, but its aftermath was a haunting echo in the stillness of the night. The forest, once alive with the sounds of struggle, was now eerily silent, the air heavy with the scent of blood and damp earth. Elijah Mikaelson stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving as he surveyed the scene, his heart seizing as his gaze fell upon the figure lying motionless on the ground.

“Y/N!” The name tore from his throat, raw and desperate, as he rushed to her side, the world narrowing to the sight of her pale face and the dark red stain spreading across her torso. Her breaths were shallow, each one a struggle, as her life ebbed away with every passing second.

Panic, an emotion Elijah had long since learned to suppress, surged within him, threatening to overwhelm his centuries-honed composure. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands trembling as they hovered over the wound, unsure where to begin. He could feel the warmth of her blood, see the life slipping away from the woman he loved, and it was more terrifying than any foe he had ever faced.

“Y/N, stay with me,” he murmured, his voice cracking as he cradled her in his arms. Her eyes fluttered open, their usual brightness dimmed by pain, but she still managed to find him in the haze, her lips parting to form his name.

“Elijah…” It was barely more than a whisper, but it cut through him like a knife. Her hand weakly reached up, brushing against his cheek, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the agony she was in. “I’m… okay.”

“No,” he breathed, shaking his head as his vision blurred with tears he refused to let fall. “No, you’re not. But you will be.” With a swift, decisive movement, Elijah bit into his wrist, the sharp pain barely registering as his blood welled up, rich and crimson. He pressed the wound to her lips, his other hand cradling her head as he urged her to drink.

“Please, Y/N. You need to drink,” he pleaded, his voice thick with fear and desperation. “You need to survive. For me.” His words were a command, but also a plea, as if her survival was not just necessary but inevitable.

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before the instinct to survive took over, and she latched onto his wrist, her lips parting to accept the lifeline he offered. Elijah watched, his heart in his throat, as she drank, the color slowly returning to her cheeks, her breathing becoming less labored with each drop of his blood.

When he finally pulled his wrist away, the wound on his arm healing instantly, Elijah could feel the tension in his chest begin to ease. Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, not in death, but in sleep, as her body began to heal itself with the supernatural strength his blood provided.

He stayed with her for a long time, his fingers gently brushing through her hair as he watched the rise and fall of her chest, ensuring that she was truly out of danger. But as the night wore on and the adrenaline began to fade, another emotion took its place—fear. The fear of losing her, of being the cause of her suffering, gnawed at him, and with it came a realization that twisted his heart.

He had brought her into his world, a world of danger and death, and nearly lost her because of it. And as much as he loved her, as deeply as she had woven herself into his very soul, Elijah knew that he could not allow her to be hurt because of him again. The thought of losing her was unbearable, but so was the thought of her being harmed because of his presence in her life.

So he made a decision, one that broke his heart even as he resolved to follow through with it. He would protect her, even if it meant pushing her away. He was doing this because he loved her, he’d rather her hate him than to have to see her get hurt again.

The days that followed were a blur for Y/N. She woke in the comfort of Elijah’s bed, the memory of the battle a distant, hazy nightmare. The wound that should have killed her didn’t even leave a scar, a testament to the power of his blood and the love that had driven him to save her.

But as she recovered, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Elijah was distant, his usual warmth replaced by a cold formality that made her chest ache with unspoken dread. He was still there, still attentive, but there was a barrier between them now, an invisible wall that kept him at arm’s length.

He no longer held her close at night, no longer whispered sweet nothings in the quiet moments they shared. The gentle touch of his hand on hers had become brief, almost clinical, as if he were afraid to linger. And though he still looked at her with the same intensity, there was a sadness in his eyes, a sorrow that he tried to hide but that she could see as clearly as if it were written across his face.

It broke her heart.

“Elijah,” she finally confronted him one evening, her voice trembling as she stood before him in the grand study, the fire casting long shadows across the walls. He was seated at his desk, a book in hand, but she could tell he wasn’t really reading it. His gaze flicked up to meet hers, a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—crossing his features before he quickly masked it with his usual composure.

“Y/N,” he greeted her, his voice smooth but distant. “Is everything all right?”

“No,” she said, her voice breaking slightly as she forced herself to hold his gaze. “Everything is not all right, Elijah. You’ve been distant… ever since that night. Ever since you saved me.”

Elijah's jaw tightened, and he looked away, as if the sight of her was too much to bear. “Y/N,” he began, his voice colder than she had ever heard it, “you needed time to heal, and I needed time to… think.”

“Think about what?” she asked, dread pooling in her stomach. His distant demeanor, his evasive gaze—it all pointed to something she couldn’t bring herself to believe.

“About us.” His words were like shards of ice, stabbing into her heart. “I’ve come to realize that this—whatever we have—was a mistake.”

Y/N felt the world tilt beneath her feet, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to process his words. “A mistake?” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.

Elijah turned his back to her, putting the discarded book that he was reading back on the shelves, trying to keep his mind occupied, unable to face the pain he knew he was causing. “You’re human, Y/N. Fragile. Mortal. I’ve lived for over a thousand years, and I’ve seen the devastation that comes from caring too much, from allowing a human into my life. It was foolish of me to think this could ever work.”

Each word was a dagger to her heart, tearing at the love she had thought was unbreakable. “So… you’re saying that all of this meant nothing to you?” she asked, her voice trembling. “That we meant nothing?”

“It’s not about meaning,” Elijah replied, his tone clipped. “It’s about reality. And the reality is that I can’t see myself with you in the long term. You deserve a life of safety, of normalcy—something I can never give you.”

Y/N took a shaky step forward, desperate to close the distance between them. “Elijah, please don’t do this. You’re lying to yourself, to me. I know you love me.”

But Elijah steeled himself, his expression hardening. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice hollow. “What I feel for you… it’s not enough. It’s never been enough.”

His words were a death sentence, and Y/N felt the tears she had been holding back spill over, hot and bitter. “So you laying over my dying body, sobbing, begging me to stay with you, to survive for you—meant nothing?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could utter a word, she cut him off, her voice trembling with anger and pain. "If you're going to break my heart, Elijah, at least have the fucking guts to look me in the eye while you do it."

Elijah’s mask of indifference nearly cracked at her words, but he forced himself to remain cold as he turned to face her. He had to do this, for her sake, even if it destroyed him. “It was a moment of weakness,” he said, his voice tight. “Nothing more.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as the finality of his words sank in. She had fought so hard to survive, to be with him, and now he was ripping her heart out with the same hands that had once held her so tenderly.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t do this, Elijah. Don’t push me away. I love you, and I know you love me too.”

But Elijah shook his head, his eyes closing as if to block out the sight of her tears. “Goodbye, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you find someone who can give you the life you deserve.”

With that, he turned away and walked over to the bookshelves, his fingers trailing along the spines as he searched for something—anything—to focus on, trying to avoid meeting her gaze. His movements were frantic and uncoordinated, as if he were desperately looking for a book that could offer him an escape from the pain he had just inflicted. Y/N, her heart shattered into a million pieces, watched him with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. The silence grew heavy between them as she turned on her heel and walked out, her footsteps echoing in the dimly lit study. As the door clicked shut behind her, Elijah remained by the bookshelves, his fingers gripping the spines of the volumes as silent tears began to fall. He choked back a sob, overwhelmed by the weight of his actions, his face hidden from view as he allowed his anguish to spill over.

The days that followed were unbearable. Y/N tried to move on, but everywhere she turned, she was haunted by memories of Elijah. His touch, his voice, the way he had looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in his world—it was all a cruel reminder of what she had lost.

She barely slept, her nights filled with dreams of him, of the life they could have had. And each morning, she awoke with the same ache in her chest, the pain of knowing that he had chosen to walk away from her.

Elijah, too, was suffering. Every moment without her was agony, but he forced himself to endure it, believing that he was doing the right thing. He buried himself in work, in the affairs of the Mikaelson family, but nothing could distract him from the emptiness that had settled in his heart.

He had told himself that he was protecting her, that pushing her away was the only way to keep her safe. But in truth, he was haunted by the fear that he had made the wrong choice, that he had destroyed the one thing that had ever brought him true happiness.

It was nearly a week later when Y/N found herself back at the Mikaelson estate, her heart heavy with unresolved emotions. She had tried to stay away, to respect his wishes, but the pain of their separation was too much to bear. She needed closure, needed to hear from him one last time, even if it tore her apart.

She found him in the study, where their last conversation had taken place. He was seated at his desk, the same book in his hands, though it was clear he hadn’t turned a page since she had last seen him.

Without hesitation, she burst into the room, her emotions boiling over. "Y/N—" he started, surprised by her sudden appearance, but she cut him off sharply.

“No, Elijah, don't say anything,” she snapped, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “You’re going to sit there and let me talk.”

Elijah froze, his eyes wide as he looked at her, his usual calm demeanor shaken by the fire in her gaze. She didn’t give him a chance to respond, the words pouring out of her with all the pent-up frustration and hurt she had been holding in for days.

“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Elijah,” she continued, her voice rising. “You don’t get to push me away because you’re scared. Do you think I didn’t know what I was getting into when you told me what you are? I knew, and I stayed because I love you, Elijah! I love you more than anything.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she wasn’t finished. “You’re more than just an original vampire—you’re the love of my life. And no near-death experience will scare me off. Not when I have you.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and powerful, and for a moment, Elijah was at a loss for words. The walls he had so carefully constructed around his heart began to crumble as he looked at her, truly seeing the depth of her love for him.

Slowly, he stood from the desk, his movements hesitant as he approached her. “Y/N…” he began, but his voice cracked, betraying the emotions he was trying so hard to keep in check. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought… I thought I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” she repeated, her tone softening slightly as she looked up at him. “By pushing me away? That’s not protection, Elijah—that’s fear. And I’m not afraid. I survived because of you. And I’ll keep surviving, as long as I have you by my side.”

Elijah reached out, his hands trembling as they cupped her face, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much. I just… I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“You won’t,” she whispered back, wrapping her arms around him and holding on as tightly as she could. “You won’t lose me, Elijah. I’m yours. I always will be.”

The tension that had been building between them melted away as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Elijah’s hold on her tightened, as if he could somehow keep her safe just by keeping her close, and she smiled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek.

The fear and pain of the past days slowly began to fade, replaced by the warmth of their love, the unspoken bond that had always connected them. Elijah pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt her chin up so he could look into her eyes, his gaze soft and filled with a tenderness that made her heart swell.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he finally allowed himself to feel the depth of his emotions. “I promise, I will never push you away again, I love you.”

Y/N smiled, a radiant, heartfelt smile that lit up the room. “I love you too, Elijah. And I’m never going anywhere. No matter what.”

Elijah leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, pouring every ounce of his love and devotion into that simple act. Y/N responded in kind, her arms winding around his neck as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with a desperation that matched his own.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Elijah rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he savored the closeness he had denied himself for too long.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For staying. For loving me.”

“Always,” she replied, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his face, as if memorizing every detail. “I’m not afraid of your world, Elijah. Because it’s our world now. And as long as we’re together, we can face anything.”

He opened his eyes then, gazing down at her with a look of such reverence that it made her heart skip a beat. “You are my eternity, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with a promise that spanned centuries. “And I will spend every moment of it making sure you know how deeply you are loved.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with the certainty that they were meant to be together, no matter the challenges they might face. “And I will spend every moment loving you right back.”

With those words, the last remnants of the darkness that had hung over them dissipated, leaving only the light of their love to guide them forward. In that moment, in the safety of each other’s arms, they both knew that they had found something truly eternal—a love that would endure through the ages, unshaken by the trials of the world.

Together, they would face whatever came their way, knowing that their love was strong enough to overcome anything. And in the quiet of that night, as they held each other close, Elijah and Y/N made an unspoken vow—a vow to cherish, protect, and love one another for all of eternity.

And as they stood together, wrapped in the warmth of their love, they knew that whatever the future held, they would face it side by side, always and forever.

Mars speaks... (again) Thank you for reading, any and all feedback is appreciated. If you wish to be added to my Elijah taglist or my taglist for anyone else I write for, lmk!

[nina-ya]

Hey hey, since you’re doing requests, can I request zoro x reader (established relationship) where it’s a recreation of this scene: https://x.com/kyoruyeye/status/1735320235572679085?s=46&t=b1QQ53SU-R7bOOFwRYV3zA

I don’t know, the thought of zoro being like, really injured and reader trying to give him water that way since she doesn’t have another way to bring it to him to help him, but all he wants is to kiss her desperately is just aaaAAHHH

A/N: Hiiiii I finally got around to this the holidays are kicking my ass I do hope you enjoy!! I love desperate kisses so so much so I had a lot of fun writing this <3<3<3

Zoro sits in the aftermath of an exhausting battle, the moonlight shining its soft rays onto his features. His chest heaves as the adrenaline wears off as both of you bare marks of the battle– cuts and bruises littering your figures as evidence of how rough the battle was. Despite the evident damage on both of your bodies, it was clear that Zoro had taken most of the hits, as shown by the way his chest rapidly rises and falls, or the way he can’t stand, or the sheer amount of blood he had lost. 

As your own breathing calms down, the need for water hits like a ton of bricks. Scanning the area, your eyes land on an open flask, its contents trickling onto the ground. Hope surges within you, and without hesitation, you scoop water into your hands. You fill your own mouth with water to satiate your own needs, and you scoop up some more, but as you turn to offer Zoro some relief, the precious liquid slips through the cracks of your fingers, leaving you with a growing sense of helplessness.

The lingering determination to help the green-haired man rushes within you, and you decide to give Zoro the moisture he so desperately needs. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, initiating a kiss that carried a hope to relieve and help him. The unexpected move catches Zoro off guard, but he meets your lips with a sense of gratitude, his calloused hands cupping your face as he accepts the gesture.

As you pull away, relief washes over Zoro's features, and you sigh at the same time. But before words could leave your mouth, Zoro captures your lips once more, his kiss now filled with a newfound desperation. It was as if something had snapped within him, unleashing a desire that went beyond the mere need for water—it was a visceral hunger for you.

Breaking the kiss, you gasp for air and break the silence with, "Wait, I don't have more water," but your words are swallowed by the feeling of his lips on yours once again.

The kiss deepens, Zoro's tongue parting your lips with a passion that was filled with that intense desire for you. His hands, rough and calloused, cradles your face, the contrast between his strength and the tenderness of the kiss creating an intense intimacy. Your hands grasp the collar of his shirt as you attempt to steady yourself.

Zoro breaks the heated kiss to murmur against your lips, "Your mouth's too small, that's why... it's not enough." But just as you attempt to catch your breath and respond, Zoro's lips found yours once more. The kiss tastes of salt mixed with the lingering metallic tang of blood. One of Zoro's hands snakes around your waist, pulling you closer, his touch possessive and tender. As the kiss continues, the moonlight casts a soft glow on the two of you locked in this intimate moment. The need for anything else overshadows the need for this kiss, and the world around you two fades away as you find bliss in each other's lips.

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

The season is kind of a blur for me at the moment, and I'm sure I'll have a lot more to talk about as I rewatch it more slowly and with less hysteria, but here are my current overall thoughts! Under the cut for spoilers

Beginning with the things I liked, because there were many of them:

The voice acting was phenomenal. Everything with Claudia? Soren's tirade at Viren? Every single speech of Janai's? Top tier. I've rarely been moved by a performance as much as I was this season

Additionally: the music was on another level, especially in the final episodes. It made already-breathtaking scenes absolutely haunting, and I'm praying they do another soundtrack release soon

I adored everything about the janaya wedding. Their outfits were so good, their expressions were so full of love, and their speeches were absolutely adorable. I also loved Kasi and Gren as officiants, Gren's little "what are they going to do? Come with an army?" joke made me cackle. (Also: hearing "and her wife, Queen Amaya" made me cheer so loudly my throat still hurts a day later)

I've been a passive sorvus shipper since season 4, but episode 2 ratcheted that up about ten levels. Every one of their interactions was so good, I love how they have the stoic/silly dynamic but also establish that Soren understands Corvus's sense of duty and Corvus has just as much of a ridiculous streak as Soren. They have to get together next season, please please please

Rayla and Callum! Back together at last!! And we have (hopefully) a full season of them being together to look forward to after this. It was really nice to see them fully on the same page at last, and the mix of ease and nervousness in their affection felt really cute and authentic

Speaking of things I've been waiting for forever: RUNAAN IS FINALLY FREE. I'm so happy that plotline was finally resolved, and I'm very intrigued about where he's going to go from here in regards to his relationships with Ethari, Rayla, and Callum. I really like that they addressed how he treated Rayla during their last encounter and established how deeply he regrets it

In general, I really liked how many loose ends we came back to this season. It was great to get the whole story of Viren, Lissa, Soren, and Kpp'Ar, especially for people who haven't read the comics or novelizations. I was thrilled to see Aanya again and loved her prowess in battle and her friendship with Ezran

I love that Claudia's hair actually looks like it got cut by a knife. No magically even cut for her. Somehow she really pulls it off, though, so good for her

Things I wasn't as much of a fan of:

I wish we had gotten to see Callum and Rayla actually talk the whole leaving-for-two-years thing out. Callum seems to think he was in the wrong for giving Rayla the cold shoulder when she first came back, but in my eyes he did have a right to be upset, and I wish they would acknowledge that. I was thrilled when they got back together, but I think it would have landed a little better for me if I felt like their "breakup" had been fully resolved

Has Sol Regem's mate ever been brought up before? It felt like a weird thing to pull up in the middle of the climax. His scene with Aaravos was written and presented very powerfully, but I didn't really feel the impact of it because I was busy going "where did this come from?"

And finally, this is really just a nitpick, but if you wear a blindfold for your entire life, you will not be able to suddenly see when you take it off because your brain doesn't know how to translate the shapes and light around you into cognitive images. I know I can suspend my disbelief, it just kind of bugged me

Overall, I was on the edge of my seat the entire time, and I think it was the most completely engrossed by a season so far. I'm begging and pleading for season 7 to be released sooner rather than later, because I need more and I need it now

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x Player), THE ENDING

Chapter 18, In Which You and Raphael Live Happily Ever After

read on AO3

Luca Signorelli: detail of The Deeds of Antichrist 

The second year of the Coming of Prophet Raphael. Holy See, Rome. Do not let anyone deceive you in any way, for that day will not come unless the rebellion comes first, and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of destruction, who opposes and who exalts himself over every so-called god or object of worship, so that he sits down in the temple of God, proclaiming that he himself is God.

“Such a blessed day”, your mum said. 

“It is”, you said. 

A lovely midsummer day. The sun beat down on the Vatican gardens, dappled shadows through the trees. You and your mum were having coffee in the gazebo, you with your phone, she with her newspaper, enjoying the sweet scent of flowers and freshly cut grass.

Not much changed in the Holy See. The Family of the Prophet Raphael moved in where the late Pope used to reside; crosses were banned and called a heresy, replaced by a symbol vaguely reminiscent of the double horns, but otherwise, not much.

Your mum gasped as she read something, and you had to shoot a quick glance at the headlines as well…

…a tactical nuclear strike… the Holy Army of Prophet Raphael…

You quickly looked back on your phone before you could catch the rest.

“Well, there has always been trouble in the Middle East”, your mom said after some contemplation. "God willing, Raul will bring about an end to it all."

“Raphael”, you corrected. “And be careful with your phrasing”.

"I prefer to call him by his baptismal name, the one he bore before the Resurrection," she responded with a soft smile. “Old habit”.

“Those are two different people”, you said. “The one who got resurrected was not the one who died”.

“Anya, you got more religious than me”, your mum laughed. “Who could have known?”.

You held your tongue and continued scrolling through Reddit, the subreddit dedicated to the Prophet. 

“You should go out”, your mum said. "You should visit Rome someday; it's been reborn. The streets are pristine, people dressed in their Sunday best every day, crime rates at their lowest since records began. It’s heaven on earth. Reinstating capital punishment was truly an act of divine wisdom. We are blessed indeed to have witnessed His Second Coming".

And he will speak words against the Most High, and he will wear out the holy ones of the Most High, and he will attempt to change times and law, and they will be given into his hand for a time and two times and half a time.

You did not need to go out. 

Nothing existed outside of this house anyway.

It’s just you and this house. And the gardens.

As for your mum, she was the necessary evil.

Raphael was busy with his Crusades, you were busy battling Asmodeus, and since Raphael could not stand the idea of nannies, your mother looked after your son around-the-clock. It was her own personal mission from God, to raise the son of the Great Prophet, so she said.

“If you ask me,” she said as she sipped her tea from a china cup, “those who turn a blind eye to Raul’s miracles are simply reaping what they've sown. God knows who they truly serve.”

Oh, damn! They finally dropped the new update to the Conquest Of Nessus. At long last, you flagged these bugs a month ago. 

“Anya, pay attention to your child. What’s so interesting on your phone?”

Three new re-worked romance scenes with Raphael and a new boss fight, that’s what's interesting on your phone.

“What?”, you asked as you scrolled through the release notes. “He is happy. Michi is a very happy little boy”.

Your little boy sat in his stroller with his jet black hair and blue eyes; angelic except for those little double horns and tail. So well-behaved and sweet you sometimes forgot about his existence. Michi was short for Michael, and Michael was short for Archangel Michael - nomen est omen after all.

Couldn't ask for a better baby.

“Anya, you need to be present for your son”.

You never spoke with Raphael of Michael’s blue eyes; with your mum, of his horns. She never brought them once either; but she would often knit small hats for him, carefully including two holes on each side.

Some things you just don’t talk about in a family. 

“Present where?”, you tore your eyes off the phone screen. “Mom, I wish you would refrain from criticizing me all the time—I'm doing my best here.”

Your mother’s face softened into a serene smile.

“I know, sweetheart," she said warmly, "I am proud of you. I love you—you're the most wonderful daughter anyone could dream of."

That’s all you ever wished for.

****

The remainder of your day was spent immersed in beta-testing, just like in your pre-Raphael days. As midnight loomed, you'd squashed enough bugs to warrant a serious chat with Larian.

"Thanks for the latest patch," you began as the newly appointed development lead appeared on your Teams call screen. "There are a few areas I want to discuss, particularly this bit where Tav and Raphael liberate Nessus from Asmodeus' tyranny and celebrate their wedding."

“Too cheesy? We hoped you’d like it”

“Um, I appreciate the sentiment”, you said. “But I had a feeling it was too much. Like, unrealistic. Can you schedule me a call with the chief writer? Besides many other minor points. Raphael doesn’t talk like that. But you will receive my full feedback in an e-mail”.

"Certainly," he agreed with a nod. "We'll make sure everything is according to your preferences. After all, Lady Prophet, you're our exclusive client."

Nobody else was allowed to play the game.

“Anya”, you corrected. “I really cannot stand when they call me Lady Prophet. But just so you know, I really appreciate the hard work you do for me”, you said.

“How is the Prophet?"

"Oh, well... The Middle Eastern conversion isn't exactly going as smoothly as anticipated. South Asia isn’t looking much better".

Russia was in the drenches of a civil war between raphaelists and orthodox. China bought itself some time. 

"Here's hoping there will still be some folks left for him to convert," he joked without a smile on his face. "Just so we're clear though - we are all followers of the Prophet here at Larian Studios. In hoc signo vinces. No heretics among us, Lady Prophet. Anya. Sorry. Anya".

You could feel your cheeks turning red. There were heretics, yes. A lot of them. Especially in northern Europe.

They did not live long before they were put on trial in hellfire. Raphael had his own inquisitors (there were about ten thousand applications for a place, a favourite career choice for young men of Catholic background).

Raphael did not burn the inquisitors for their crimes back then.

He burned them because their crimes were not in his name.

For false messiahs and false prophets will appear, and will produce great signs and wonders in order to deceive, if possible, even the elect.

“Don’t hate me”, you muttered. “I did not… You guys created Raphael. Not me”.

There was a long silence.

"We'll have that update ready for you ASAP," he finally said.

***

You used to hate the spotlight, and you still do. 

Unfortunately to you, you were the most discussed woman in the world; and your marriage was the item of every gossip. Which meant you had to do public statements from time to time. This time, on national news, live stream from the papal enclave, you and Raphael sitting on the sofa, the entire United Christian nation's eyes on you.

He was dressed in pristine white and blood red; the two colors he hailed now to be his signature. White shirt, scarlet waistcoat, pristine white cape over his shoulders. Not quite the papal robes, not quite his devilish attire; something quite in the middle. 

"Lady Prophet," the reporter began, her face magnified on the giant screen behind her before switching to yours. “How challenging is it to be the spouse of the Chosen One?”

“It is what I wished for”, you said simply.

“My dear Anya and I are striving to give our utmost efforts in making our relationship flourish and serve as a model for other believers to follow”, Raphael said as he held your hand and kissed it gently.

Raphael was trying his best, you were sure of it. He never raised his voice at you, nor did he ever harm you in any way. Everything was wonderful in the bedroom. 

Both of you were putting in your best effort. Because that's what marriage is all about: work. It’s hard.

Not without it’s lovely moment, of course. Raphael read you poetry before bed: from Milton to Eliot to Keats. And you would go to the theater every other weekend, and to the opera once every two months. Not last month, though, as he was away managing the conflict from his war room in Zion. 

"Can you tell us how both of you were resurrected alongside the Prophet? Lady Prophet, is it true that God commanded you to end both of your lives so that you could be reborn?" another reporter piped up.

“The details are hazy, if I am honest”, you said. “I am not sure it was God who commanded me, but it seemed the right thing to do”.

Most of the details you yourself got from the press. You were dead for three days. They held a lavish funeral for both of you, despite you being the murderer. The Family wished for it (and kept the details of your deaths hush-hush), you learned later. There was a lot of press, a lot of crying. Both caskets were open, a scarf around your neck, a suit jacket covering Raul’s gun wound. They made this whole “and then, both were dead” thing oddly romantic.

So, half of the world witnessed you both coming back from the dead on a live stream. That part you remember. Chaos. Some went straight into religious hysteria, some ran, some just stood there shell-shocked. Raphael delivered his first speech within the first hour.

Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.

"Anya chose to sacrifice herself for us all," Raphael added smoothly. "Her bravery knows no bounds."

“I did not feel so brave at the moment”, you said.

You killed yourself and you were dead for three days.

Three days of nothing. 

Absolute darkness. 

Not a single memory or feeling.

“Your actions triggered the Second Coming, Lady Prophet, for which are eternally grateful”, the moderator said as she clutched the double-horned pendant on her chest. “God guide your hand, Prophet Raphael. In hoc signo vinces”.

For the powers of the heavens will be shaken. And then they will see the Son of Man coming bearing the Holy Light and great glory.

“Tell us, what of your son?”, she continued. “You were pregnant at that moment, were you not?”

“I did not know that”, you said. “Everybody but me knew, but I did not”.

Raul knew. Jens knew. Camilla knew. Your mother knew. Nobody told you. Angus told them that you had a high risk of miscarriage, so it would be wise not to tell you until the 10th week, when the chances decrease rapidly. You killed yourself at nine weeks and four days.

Yourself and Michi. 

“And if you knew”, the reporter asked and took a little pause.  “Would you have had the courage to?..”

Would you kill Raul and then kill yourself?

Would you?

Michi (he would be called something different, for sure, Marco or Alessandro or something) would be playing with Raul now. Raul would have dreamt of such a kid.  You’d be living in his villa while the king of Blackrock would be turning the world into an even more capitalist hellhole than it was. You dreamt of this scenario too, recently, and woke up screaming and not knowing what’s real and shook Raphael awake to check what colour his eyes were.

Brown.

The only dream of Raul that came true was that Italy became the powerhouse of the United Christian Union. Raphael kept hold of Blackrock, too. He did not use the infrastructure and power and money to generate even more profits.

He used it for entirely different purposes.

“Every “if” is a different story”, you said. “I don’t know the other one”.

“Your words are full of wisdom, Lady Prophet. Oh! Such beautiful blue eyes your baby has”.

She gestured towards the photo projected on the screen, taken on Michi's first birthday - there were fireworks and a parade in his honour. The horns were carefully photoshopped away and his black hair slicked back.

Raphael said nothing to the comment, his jaw set tight, his lips slightly twitching. You didn’t have blue eyes either.

Nobody in your family did, all green and brown.

“Plans for more?”, she asked.

“Naturally”, Raphael said. “for as they say, one child is no child at all. I lead by example”.

You said nothing.

“Can the little one already summon the Holy Fire?”, the moderator said, immediately spotting unease between the two of you.

“Not yet,” Raphael said and stood up, facing the cameras. “But in due time, he shall be able to, as will all those who have faith in me. In hoc signo vinces”.

He produced Hellfire in his palm; the parlour trick that converted the first ten million, and it still worked wonders.

The cameras captured every spark. 

For false messiahs and false prophets will appear, and will produce great signs and wonders in order to deceive, if possible, even the elect.

“You never get used to it, do you?”, the TV show moderator said, trembling, her mouth agape with awe. “The miracle of the Holy Fire. The miracle of God”.

“I did”, you shrugged. “You get used to everything, really”.

*** 

After the interview, Raphael came out on the balcony to greet his flock in St Peter's Square, a smile on his face; you were standing next to him, hand in hand. 

The crowd applauded him, their faces absent, possessed, not a trace of humanity in him, chanting his name, chanting your name, chanting something in Latin, shaking their fists, raising the symbol of the Prophet.

"In hoc signo vinces!" They chanted the motto of his Crusades. "In hoc signo vinces!"

All beautifully dressed. White and red robes, gold emblems, guns at their belts. Former citizens of the European Union, now known as the United Christian Union (including the Commonwealth and Latin America). Raphael preferred the Holy Empire, but it never stuck.

"Hail Archangel Raphael! Hail His Lady Prophet!".

Raphael did not forbid to call him archangel, but he humbly asked to be addressed as prophet.

You dropped your eyes and reached for your phone. You haven't checked your emails for a while. It's high time you did.

"Anya," Raphael chided gently. "Your flock needs its Lady”.

Emails. Emails. Who knows what's there? You must know. 

"Give your worshippers some recognition," came the email.

You looked up and waved to the crowd, and they waved back in delight, shouting your title. Raphael raised both arms to the blackened sky above. The sky responded in kind; clouds gathered into pitch-black formations, fires flickered. They knew what Raphael was summoning, and so did his flock.

The hellstorm was coming.

***

"I keep thinking, Anya."

You watched as Raphael unbuttoned his shirt and prepared for the night's rest. Soon he'd be brushing his teeth and lathering his skin with moisturiser before changing into blue silk pajamas.

You wondered how much of this nightly routine was a remnant of his Raul days and how much was just Raphael. In moments of that, the reality of one blurred into the memory of another. 

"What about, my love?" you asked as you combed through your hair.

"The devil," he said. "The one you mentioned in Dr Bambauer's files. The one you lied to me about. It was not Asmodeus, Anya. I am sure of that now. Who was it, then, and why did he choose to reveal himself to you instead of me?"

You knew that little encounter would come to bite you one day.

"I wish I knew”, you muttered. “Let the old dogs lie. I rubbed his horns, nothing more happened".

"Well, I should be grateful that our child does not bleat," Raphael said, arms folded over his chest. "You've only seen this creature once, have you?"

"Yes," you said, very eager to drop the subject.

"I thought I would finally succeed when Mecca was converted," Raphael said, clenching his fists and relaxing. "Yet I am no closer to true divinity. The powers I know are there have never shown themselves to me. Why?"

"Why do you ask me?", you sighed as you laid yourself to rest.

"For the same reason I chose you, my dear consort. You seem to see more than anyone else".

And yet he never asked you about the things he decides to do on his crusades.

"Why the tactical nuke, Raphael?" you asked, closing your eyes and pressing your cheek against the silk of the pillow. "You can summon hellstorm and hellfire to make them worship you. Why?"

Raphael and tactical nukes should have never coexisted in the same sentence.

Whips, hellfire, infernal magic, yes.

Nukes, segregation, jihad, no. 

"I can summon hellstorm and hellfire," Raphael nodded. "Yet there are those who continue to dismiss it as psyops and propaganda and deep fakes. The use of tactical nuclear weapons has proven to be a more efficacious method for conversion."

For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape.

"You don’t like guns, but you like nukes? Was it Kötter's advice?", you asked. Raphael said nothing, so that meant "yes". "Why have you never fired him? He is Raul's man, and Raul was a piece of shit".

That was the first time you said his name out loud in ages.

"Raul was competent in choosing advisors," Raphael snapped back. "I shall not speak of the man again and neither shall you. I have enough reminders, thank you".

You read recently that parents with green and brown eyes have 12% to produce blue-eyed kids. It’s possible, just unlikely.

But you said nothing as Raphael creamed his hands. Some things you just don’t talk about in a family. 

"It's just... I wish you could have asked me," you said, emphasising the word "wish". “I would not have allowed that”.

No, your magic never worked on him. 

He never let it work with him. You have all the power in the world, but not with him, never with him. 

"I didn't wish to distract you from your reverie," Raphael whispered as he lay on top of you, ready to commence the next part of the evening programme. "Or disturb your beautiful dreams."

My sweet. My darling. Little mouse. Apple of my eye.

Never, never, "my love". 

Not even once.

***

Behold! I tell you a mystery.

You didn't have to do anything but enjoy yourself, day after day, week after week. Michi was growing up all by himself, a poster child in all manners conceivable, your mother took great care of him, Raphael was away on crusades. 

Life was idyllic behind the high walls of the Holy See, guarded by the carefully selected Prophet's Guard. Nothing ever happened inside. Perfectly orderly, perfectly lawful, clean and utterly, utterly beautiful. One thing Raphael did right (one of the few) was bringing back classical art with a vengeance - sculptures especially.

You didn't have to work, you didn't have to think about the future (what future?), you didn't have to worry about money or health - you had everything. Everything there was to have.

And the world outside was what it was: the world outside.

And the stories of others were what they were: the stories of others.

Do they exist, even? Maybe all that exists is you.

Or maybe all that doesn’t exist is you; maybe you never came back from your suicide.

Be it as it may, nothing ever disturbed your reverie, your own little world. And you dreamed, every day. Of how things could be different. Should have been different. 

Of other worlds, other people, other places, other stories.

And you played the game, of course, daily. You killed Asmodeus a thousand times, a thousand ways. You asked for three rewrites. None of them mattered. Raphael was getting more and more frustrated, so you searched for new ways to defeat Asmodeus. 

“Lady Prophet?”, the servant girl knocked on your door when you and your party were casting poisonous clouds on Asmodeus’ guard. “There is a visitor waiting for you at the entrance door”.

A visitor, on a Sunday morning? You haven't had any visitors in years. You personally, at least. You asked what he looked like. The girl flushed red and said she could not remember, but he was very sweet.

Huh.

You were all too aware of the sight that would greet you once you swung open the grandiose door to the Papal Palace, yet a gasp still escaped your lips.

There he was, Mr. Goat, looking somewhat dishevelled with muck clinging to his hooves and a rugged hiking backpack slung over his shoulder. In his mouth, he held a dandelion - its yellow petals slightly wilted from being gnawed on.

"That's for you, my sweetest morsel”, he said and handed you the flower. “I couldn't help but sample it myself; it was simply irresistible."

You felt heat rising to your cheeks when he said the word 'irresistible', and then he sent a little wink your way.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Goat," you replied, holding the flower close to your heart. "Raphael isn't home at the moment though. He will be back soon, though".

"The two of us have no need for him", Mr. Goat gave you a very ambiguous smile, and you blushed even harder. “May I come in?”

You nodded and watched as he clomped across Raphael's pristine white marble floors with little regard for cleanliness, leaving trails of dirt in his wake. If Raphael saw this mess, he'd surely have a heart attack. 

Not that it would kill him.

“Would you be so kind and make me a cup of tea, little human?”, Mr. Goat asked. “Terribly thirsty for some good tea”.

You found yourself trailing him into the kitchen, a place you didn't frequent too often - it was more the domain of your staff. But you and your mum did have a tradition of sharing tea on occasion. Mr. Goat glided as he moved, dancing with every step, his hooves tapping against the floor. 

You picked out the crème de la crème of your tea selection and fetched the loveliest cups from their repository.

"Sublime," Mr. Goat crooned as he savoured the first sip, his jet-black eyes sliding shut in pure bliss. "Just what I craved after an eternity.”

Now both of you were snuggled at your quaint coffee table, your legs almost touching underneath it. His coarse fur grazed against your skin.

"I'm glad you liked it. This blend was a gift to Raphael from the Chinese Premier when they signed their pact of non-aggression," you said, though you had doubts about how long that pact would last.

The Chinese government had never officially recognized Raphael's divine status; instead attributing his miracles to some high-tech psychological warfare tech.

"Mmm...I can detect a faint hint of cyanide in its aroma”, Mr. Goat said. “How delightful! So how fares our ambitious cambion?" 

“Well”, you said. “He rules the Earth now. Well, almost”.

The Middle East, India and China remained stubborn holdouts while America had been swept up in religious fervor almost instantly; offering weapons and intelligence support. Nordic resistance had been a minor hiccup but was swiftly dealt with.

The fact that all-out nuclear war hadn't erupted yet was nothing short of miraculous.

“Oh does he now”, Mr. Goat chuckled. “My, my, ready to enter the big boys club, is he? How exciting!”

“He is not too pleased with the result”, you confessed.

"Really? With all those souls under his thumb and yet no closer to achieving godhood?" Mr. Goat chortled with an unsettling glee. “Has he pondered why that might be?”

“He had”, you confessed. “He lashed out quite… profusely recently”.

That was quite a night. The whole house had to lay low and pray for their lives. He managed to punch a hole through a concrete wall in his human form. 

“Who knows, who knows why that might be”, Mr. Goat bleated. “And you, my dearest delight? Do you now have what you always wanted?”

You thought how to answer this question and decided not to.

“You know the answer, Mr. Goat”, you said instead.

“Really?”, Mr. Goat pouted his lips in dissapointment. “Why ever not? Has Raphael lost his charm after he became reality?”

You shook your head and said nothing more on the matter, looking at your nails.  Still chewed to the quick. Well, at least some things do not change.

“Why did you never stop Raphael, Mr. Goat?”, you changed the subject. “Hundreds of millions are dead. There will be many more. He needs to be stopped”.

“There will be trillions more, with him or without, in the future and in the past. People live. People die”, he slipped the tea. “What’s the problem again?”

“Raphael is impersonating God”.

“Who hasn’t tried that at least once?”, Goat said. “You should as well, it is lots of fun. Why did you never try to stop him, Anya?”

“I cannot”, you said, your lips twitching in anger. “You know that very well! I can only watch what I created but cannot do anything. I stopped bothering a long time ago anyway”.

“Ha, you remind me of someone I know! He also created something, and now cannot bear to look at it. Stopped bothering a long, long time ago. Not what I imagined, he said. But that’s exactly what you imagined, I tell him, and he just won’t listen. All touchy-touchy, that one”.

“Are you talking about God?”, you blurted out. “Will he truly never forgive me for taking my own life?”

“I am talking about someone I know”, Mr. Goat said and slurped some more tea. “As for your question, ask him yourself. But I don’t think so. He cannot forgive me stepping on his foot once”.

“Well, yes, Mr. Goat”, you admitted. “My life is not exactly what I imagined”.

“Then imagine something different”, Mr. Goat suggested.

“Please leave if you are here to mock me”.

"I'm not here to mock you, sweetest morsel”, he sniffed in offence. “Quite the opposite - I find you delightful! You've rubbed my horns just right and danced with me. That’s more than most mortals have ever done."

“Are you here to punish Raphael? Kill him?”

"Would you like me to?" asked Mr Goat lazily. "Give the wicked little cambion some spanking?"

You feel silent.

Something in his voice told you he could do that with a snap of his fingers.

Probably wouldn’t even need a snap.

“No. No. I love him”, you pleaded.”He is the father of my child”.

Despite everything, you could never truly wish for Raphael’s death. You don’t know what you would be without him. You don’t know who you are with him, either.

Besides, what would they do to Michi and you if Raphael was gone?

"Oh really?" Mr Goat smiled. "Anyone in your family have blue eyes?"

You hadn’t discussed this with anyone before, not even Raphael himself.

"Well, Michie has double horns," you retorted, your body rigid with tension. "No one in my family had those, that's for sure."

Mr. Goat bobbed his head in what you hoped was agreement. 

“Raphael is… He can do better, Mr. Goat”, you said. “He is half-human. He has… he can… I can… make him better. With time, maybe. I just don’t know how”.

Mr. Goat flapped his lips a bit in contemplation, and then raised a finger, as if struck by the idea.

“Anya, I bought you a present”, Mr. Goat started to pull something out of his worn and torn backpack. “You know, they say a book is the best present there is”.

“If this is a Bible, Mr. Goat, I am throwing it into the fire”. 

You cannot hear quotes from the Bible anymore. There was a whole scriptorium in the Apostolic Palace where they wrote the Prophet Raphael’s edition of the Bible day and night; replaced words, edited stories.

“Oh, no, I haven’t read this one for a while. The human interpretations grew too wild for my taste. No, it’s a much simpler piece of fiction. But I thought you’d like it”.

You peeked into his open backpack; there was a black hole inside of it and a half-eaten apple.

What he drew out from his bag barely qualified as a book; it was more like a stack of A4 papers haphazardly stitched together at one end. Your eyes widened as you recognized the layout on the first page: rating information, warnings, tags and main pairing.

"Mr. Goat," you burst out laughing. "Is this an AO3 fanfic?"

Mr. Goat slowly nodded and went for a toffee on the table. 

"'Knock knock'," you read aloud the title, trying to suppress another round of laughter. "I haven't read one of these in forever. Is it any good?"

“Ah, so-so. I am not the key audience”, he said. “You are”.

You flipped through to the last page and read the final line aloud: “I am not the key audience”, Mr. Goat said. “You are”.

“What is it?”, you recoiled, looking at Mr. Goat in horror. “What in the holy hell…”

"Your story," he replied calmly as if explaining why water is wet."And Raphael's too." He paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully before adding, "It's still a work in progress though; one chapter left to go."

“And how does it end?”, you asked. “Please spare the child. Kill us, but spare Michi, he really is not at fault for anything”.

“Ah, Anya, don’t be morbid, I would never do something like that to your happy nuclear family. I'm asking you — how does your story conclude? Spill it. I'm all ears and ready to write it down."

He took the last page and held a pen at the ready. A very simple, blue ball pen, half-chewed upon. 

"It's a happy ending," you whispered. "Please, Mr Goat, make it a happy ending”.

"Anya," he urged gently, "give me the specifics here. Remember what I told you – this is your story.”

With that prompt, you began to speak rapidly - words tumbling over each other as if they were afraid of being left behind.

"Anya and Raphael lived happily ever after," Mr Goat nodded and wrote. "He... learned to love Anya... truly love her… and their little son. He became a good father. He actually came to Michi’s crib and rocked him and fed him at night, and he got one of those babybjorns to carry him around. He loved Michi just the way he was, no matter what colour his eyes were".

Mr Goat erupted into laughter (his spit flecked with bits of caramel splattered all over the page), but he didn't stop writing. 

Can Raphael even, will it even work…

Well. He has to. You changed for him, too. Not necessarily how you’ve liked, either. 

Love is fucking sacrifice.

You need to think about the world, too.

You are a good person.

"Raphael stopped killing innocent people who refused to pledge their souls to him and accept him as their new god”, you went on. “Instead, he vowed to build a better world on Earth. Basic income for all. Equal rights. Stock market is banned. And... and... high living standards and affordable housing. Space exploration!”

"Communism?" Mr Goat glanced at you. "Really? How many times are we going round this merry-go-round?"

"We'll get it right this time", you said, your jaw sat tight. “We will do right”.

"If you say so, my little idealist," Mr Goat nodded sagely. "Theocratic Communism, my favourite. You are right – what's another billion souls here or there?"

"Please write that down too: Raphael loved Anya unconditionally. He would sacrifice his own life for her. She was his special little mouse. She was! And no other little mice. Ever. He was faithful to the end of his days”.

At that, Mr Goat's laughter became so intense he had to put down his pen. You didn’t think it was all that funny.

"Please write the faithful part down," you reminded him. "It is important. I was beginning to have my doubts with all these crusades. Ah! But write down that Haarlep is okay. Haarlep does not count as cheating".

Haarlep was fucking his way through the United Christian Union Parliament (sex was no longer off charts for Christians, quite the opposite; the more believers the better). 

Mr. Goat transcribed your words, and he had some really sloppy handwriting, so you hoped he didn’t mess anything up. 

"Duly noted," said Mr Goat. "Anything else? What about Asmodeus?”

Hm?

“What about him?”, you asked. “I never cared about Asmodeus, really”.

Mr. Goat's expression turned to one of mock-offence, his pouty lips protruding.

"You are not him, are you?" you summoned all your courage to ask the next question. "What exactly are you, Mr. Goat? You are Satan, right? Our Satan?"

Mr. Goat let out a deep sigh and rummaged through his backpack before producing what looked like a gnawed-on business card - faded grey with some dubious stains on it. Your breath hitched as he presented it to you with an expression of grave solemnity.

"Mr. Goat" was scribbled on the card in childish handwriting.

Mr. Goat slowly nodded, as if he had just revealed the greatest of all secrets.

“Now you know the truth of this world, Anya”, he said.

“Thank you”, you let out a nervous laugh. “No more questions”.

“Well then,” he slapped his thighs and rose from his seat. “Appreciate the tea and the hospitality, sweet morsel. Give my best to Raphael".

He put his backpack back on his back and pulled on a silly knitted orange hat that made his ears stand apart even more.

"That's it? Will you just leave us alone then?", you could not believe it. "You're not going to destroy Raphael for what he's done to Earth?"

He cackled, a paw on his round belly.

"Why should I, my sweet morsel?" Mr Goat's lips curved into a sly smile. "You just did, and I must say I'm no match for your cruelty. To break a man like that! To twist his very nature! I applaud you."

He paused, clapping his paws together like an over-excited spectator at a show.

"I have not destroyed Raphael," you said. "I love him."

"And I love women," Mr Goat grinned, his furry face contorted into an expression of pure delight. "God's finest creations; far superior to men, if you ask me. What punishment would Raphael have in mind? Meat hooks and eternal torture, boring, boring, boring. What punishment have you thought of? Oh! Delightful!”.

He stroked your cheek and leaned in to kiss you.

The lips that touched you were not those of a man or a goat or anything in between. What was touched was primordial; it existed before the concept of existence itself.

"Au revoir, my little dreamer," said Mr Goat, his face disappearing into thin air until only his smile was left, but it did not linger for long. "Remember, there is only one truth: what has been dreamed shall never be lost”.

You sat there for a while, lingering the taste of eternity on your lips.

Until you heard a knock knock.

"Anya?" Raphael's worried voice called from behind the closed door. "My love? Why is the door closed? Are you well?"

THE END

(NO, SERIOUSLY. THE END)

[stars-n-spice]

The Dad Batch™ as things my dad has said/done:

Hunter:

asks questions about things and immediately answers himself like he knew the answer already or someone suddenly possessed him to answer himself

the only Korean movies he's ever shown us are war movies that are depressing as FUCK

had a Temu phase and for Christmas bought EVERYONE a blanket from them

explained his relationship with my mom to a coworker as "I live with her"

Mixed up my name with the dog

Had nice, long, beautiful hair but recently got it cut so short that he was depressed and moping for like a day about it even though HE wanted to cut it short

changes his age every time he tells us about when he came to America (he was either 14, 15, or 16)

Echo:

always sings "A Whole New World" for his karaoke song

apparently lied to the Korean embassy about going to America to "study" (has not been back since outside of visits to family)

my mom sent him a grocery list and he responded with "asking too much"

does not understand the words "bruh" or "huzzah" - along with all the other Gen Z slang (that even I don't understand sometimes)

would let me play Candy Crush on his phone but would take it away because I wasn't able to finish the levels and he didn't like me wasting his lives

calls my mom's cat "the baby"

got a PhD in his second language

Wrecker:

snores like a motherfucking freight train and sneezes like he's trying to break the sound barrier

learned how to cook/grill via YouTube (and is actually REALLY good at it)

wanted to show off his taekwondo skills (of which he has NONE) in elementary to a girl and said he'll kick a water bottle off her head - instead he ended up kicking the girl right in the face

Is married to a Mexican and thinks Taco Bell is the best (for some reason???)

Loves opening up presents more than the actual present itself (he'll always say that he doesn't need anything around Fathers Day, his birthday, or Christmas but then when he DOESN'T get anything, he gets upset)

takes a selfie and sends it to the family group chat every time my sister's cat comes to sit with him

Tech:

after his first date with my mom, he bought her a whole case of bottle water and left it at her dorm room door with no note or anything because he noted that she "drank a lot of water" during the date and thought she really liked water

was excused from mandatory Korean military service because his eyesight was so fucking awful, just absolute dogshit (and this was AFTER surgery)

asked if anyone needed to use the restroom on a road trip right before the exit and my younger brother said he needed to and my dad responded with "too bad" and kept driving

While we were watching Lord of the Rings every time I gasped or something during battle scenes or when Legolas did something cool, he went, "Don't worry. I think it's all CGI. That's all computers. It's not real."

Somehow knew his way around Texas the first time he was there after he was sent on a grocery run by my Tíos for a party they were having - y'know, before gps and google maps and shit

Crosshair:

frequently forgets my name and birthday but remembers that my favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip

when my mom asked him where her birthday gift to her from him was one year all he did was cover his face and then did like a "peek-a-boo" motion to claim he was the gift

as a kid he got so upset at dinner once that he flipped the table over and got into so much trouble (claims he doesn't remember why he was so upset)

will ask the cats about their day before asking my mom or my siblings and I about our days

sits in the dark and plays COD on his phone at full volume as a way of unwinding

[candycandy00]

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 4

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

You dragged Anna through the back room and nearly reached the exit before Anna pulled free. "We can't leave him in there!"

"He told us to run!"

"He wouldn't leave us!"

You looked at Anna, then toward the swinging doors. It sounded like a small battle had broken out in the main patient area. "Alright. I'll go back and try to get him out. You run ahead!"

"And leave you behind?!" Anna screeched, her face horrified. 

You put your hands on Anna's shoulders. "Listen, you have Miranda to look after. She doesn't have anyone else! So go back to her! Terrian and I will meet you at your apartment later."

Anna hesitated for a few moments, then nodded, tears leaking down her face, and ran out the back door.

You swallowed hard. You quickly scanned the room until you located a scalpel, grabbed it from the counter, then ran back through the swinging doors. The sight laid out before you was worse than any nightmare your sleeping mind could have conjured up. 

Terrian was on the floor, not moving, blood pooling beside his head. Around half the patients were already dead, decapitated or disemboweled in their beds. The rest were shrieking in terror, most of them confined to their beds but trying so desperately to escape that a few of them had tumbled onto the floor and were now crawling in the direction of the back room. Blood was every where, as if the whole room had been painted red, just like the sky. The three half-breeds were calmly making their way toward the back, slaughtering the immobilized patients along the way.

The half-breeds didn't even look angry.

One of them looked up and noticed you. He was taller than the others, with fiery red hair. "Oh, there's one of the nurses," he said.

The other two looked up briefly, then returned to their work with the patients as if they were not even interested. The redhead lunged at you, and you sliced at him with the scalpel. You managed to cut the sleeve of his uniform, and a tiny trickle of blood escaped his arm. To a half-breed, it was less than a paper cut.

He quickly grabbed the hand holding the scalpel and squeezed until you dropped the weapon, then flung you across the room. You hit the wall and slid to the floor, wincing. A couple of the patients froze to watch the unfolding scene. A trembling hand reached out to you from under the bed beside you, and you looked over to see Mr. Renaldo, the elderly patient who flirted playfully with you, peeking out with terrified eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but the half-breed suddenly threw the bed aside and grabbed Mr. Renaldo by his throat. 

The red-haired monster lifted the old man into the air, then clenched his hand tightly until the man's entire head popped off, like the cork from a bottle of wine. He dropped the now limp body and looked down at you.

You screamed, kicking at the half-breed as he came closer, until you heard an even louder scream. You looked up and saw that Anna had jumped onto the half-breed's back, wrapping her legs around his torso and clawing at his face with her fingernails.

You used the opportunity to crawl away and stand up, your eyes darting over the floor in search of the scalpel. The half-breed finally managed to get a hold of Anna and pulled her off his back, throwing her to the floor. "I found the other nurse," he said to the others. 

The two other half-breeds looked up, then began walking toward him. The woman looked slightly disgusted. "These two human girls are giving you trouble?" she asked with a hollow voice.

The redhead shook his head. "Not really. But we should deal with them first and save the weakest for last."

The other male half-breed, who had very long, straight dark hair that fell to his hips, nodded in agreement. "I'll take the first one, you take the one with short hair."

The redhead grabbed Anna by the wrists then jerked her arms above her head. The half-breed with long hair similarly grabbed you.

The redhead was facing Anna, and leaned his face in close to hers. "This one looks good," he said. His face was completely expressionless, making his words all the more disturbing. "I'll enjoy her first."

Anna screamed, kicking and struggling wildly, like an animal. You couldn't even begin to imagine the absolute horror the other girl was going through. But then the long-haired half-breed looked you up and down, and shoved you onto a cot. "This one looks good as well," he said.

It was your turn to scream again, as you were forced face down on the cot that had only minutes ago held a patient. The full terror of the situation was sinking into your brain. This was the end. You and Anna would be raped and killed right here in the clinic, in the one place that gave you the smallest bit of hope.

Anna's screams of anger and fear turned to sobs of defeat and sorrow as tears poured freely down her face. You could only make out the word "no" among her cries as the redhead wordlessly began tearing at Anna's clothes. You still couldn't understand how he could have no expression on his face. No desire, no anger, no joy. Nothing.

You couldn't help wondering why they were doing this if they couldn't feel anything.

The half-breed woman glanced around the room until her gaze landed in the direction of Terrian, lying near the front door. "Pity, the only good looking man is already dead," she said. "I'll finish off the rest then."

Upon hearing this, the remaining patients began to scream and crawl again, trying desperately to reach an exit. Your face was pressed against the pillow on the cot, but you could see Terrian's body.

Already dead. She said Terrian was already dead.

You stopped struggling then, closing your eyes and going limp. You could still hear Anna crying, but the redhead had moved her to a cot and you could no longer see what was happening to her. You wanted to block it all out, to just pass out or go ahead and die.

Amidst the screams and cries in the room, you heard the sound of the front door swinging open. You immediately thought that a patient was coming in, some unlucky person who would now be killed like the rest. But then you heard it, that familiar mechanical voice saying, "What is going on?"

You opened your eyes and saw Vartan standing in the middle of the room, looking around. His eyebrows were raised, and you remembered that this seemed to be his "shocked expression".

You didn't want him to be there. You didn't want him to be a part of this. You couldn't understand why, but the thought of Vartan participating in this horrible massacre made your heart burn. But he was a half-breed after all, just as Terrian had said. And no half-breed passed up the opportunity to slaughter a few humans.

You heard the redhead speak. "These humans are harboring those who escaped punishment."

Vartan nodded. "I see. And what is their punishment?"

The woman answered. "Execution."

Vartan's eyebrows raised slightly again. "Is that not severe?"

The long haired half-breed who had you pinned down stood up, but kept his grip on your hands, pulled tightly behind your back. This gave you a little more room to move, and you struggled to get a glimpse of Anna. 

Across the room, you could see her on a cot, the redhead literally sitting on top of her. But only her shirt had been removed, her pants and bra still intact.

The long-haired half-breed narrowed his eyes a little at Vartan. "Severe? Is it any more severe than our usual punishments?"

Vartan was quiet for a little while, as if debating on what to say. He looked at Terrian on the floor, then at you. Your eyes met his for a moment, and you could feel your cheeks burning. The situation was mortifying to say the least. Then Vartan suddenly looked back to the long-haired half-breed and said, "I request that you spare the remaining humans."

Your eyes widened. You couldn't believe it. Was he actually helping you? The other half-breeds looked at each other, then at Vartan. Their cold faces hinted vaguely at surprise, then anger.

"Why would you request such a thing?" the redhead asked.

Vartan looked at you again. "They saved me when I was injured. They could have easily let me die. They obviously have no aims of rebellion or going against the Pagoda. They pose no threat to us."

The long-haired man chuckled, the first time you had ever heard a half-breed laugh. "I understand. You have your eye on this woman, don't you?"

Vartan said nothing.

"If you want this human, stop delaying and take her, otherwise someone else will take her first."

Your heart was pounding furiously. Was that it? Was Vartan only helping you because he wanted you for himself?

The half-breed woman sat down on a cot and crossed her legs. You hated to admit it, but she was incredibly beautiful. Her caramel colored hair fell in layers to her shoulders, and her eyes were chocolate brown and hunter green. She looked at Vartan with something resembling a frown. 

"You're shameful, Vartan. Consorting with humans and interfering with their punishment! There is only one reason to interact with these pitiful creatures, and that is for our physical enjoyment. I don't know what you plan to gain by being kind to this human. If you want to enjoy her, do so! But stop embarrassing us with your games!"

You had never heard a half-breed talk for so long, much less with so much anger. You had never heard any form of emotion from them, so this was all very shocking to you. But most bothersome was what the half-breed was saying. Was she telling the truth? Was Vartan just playing some sort of game with you?

Vartan finally responded. "She saved me. I want to help her in return. That's all."

"You can't fool us. We have been watching you since the last incident," the redhead said. "Is this not the second time you have defied us?"

Vartan said nothing, and the long-haired man stepped away from the cot, releasing you. "Alright. We will spare them, but only under the condition that you will accept punishment in their place."

You sat up on the cot, watching Vartan. He looked at you again, then looked to the floor. "I accept."

Before your mind realized what you were doing, your body moved on its own. You rushed toward Vartan, putting yourself between him and the long-haired half-breed. "No, you can't!"

Vartan looked surprised again, but quickly pushed you to the side. "Punishment for us is different from punishment for humans."

"What does that mean?!"

The redhead had left Anna and was standing near Vartan. "He will not be executed," he said flatly.

You looked at Vartan, but he refused to return your gaze. The three other half-breeds gathered around him, then began punching and kicking until he fell to the ground. They closed in even tighter around him, kicking at him with all their might. Finally, he began to grunt in pain.

You had tears in your eyes. You carefully made your way around them and over to Anna, who was sitting up on her own cot, having pulled her shirt back on. Anna was crying too, so you wrapped your arms around her and held her tightly. The two of you sobbed while the half-breeds continued their assault on Vartan, who by now was almost screaming with each kick.

The day wore on, and after another hour had passed, the half-breeds finally stopped and looked at you. "This clinic is officially closed," the redhead told her. "We will be watching, and if it opens again, we will kill everyone inside. We will accept no requests next time, not even from Vartan."

They left out the front door, walking casually as if nothing had happened. When the door slammed shut behind them, you and Anna got up from the cot and walked across the room, beginning your long night of picking up the broken pieces of your last bastion of hope.

[neverchecking]

Ok I saw the 🧜‍♀️ request and I have to ask for a part two

Can I have a yandere sky, fd,war, sage, CDI link ( excuses me princess) , Link between worlds, dark link x harpy reader please nsfw

You can!

I assume you meant Legend when you said A Link Between Worlds Link? And I think you also meant the animated Link (Courage) because CDI Link (Koridai) Is from a game. Those are the ones I wrote anyway. Also bc there are so many, these are shorter. And i know you also asked for Dink and FD, but I got lazy and didn't wanna make them a banner so...

(Have you guys ever seen the CDI scenes? Holy hell that is PAINFUL-)

Part one -> Here!

Smut so MDNI! 18+!

Smut CW: Breeding, Monster fucking, Reader is a harpy!, light baby trapping

A Bird's Eye View

・❥・Now, Sky, unlike the others, is used to birds. In fact, it was you who assisted him when he first began roaming the ground level.

・❥・You stuck by his side for the entire time before being left behind when he was deposited back on Skyloft.

・❥・He had tried finding you, but it was as if you just...disappeared.

・❥・So when he's on a ride with Crimson, and hears your distinct calls? He's thrown out whatever his previous goal was without so much as a flick of his wrist.

・❥・When he finds you hurt? He goes into total mother-hen mode.

・❥・When your bandaged and clean? hes just so ecstatic to see you again! He may be hovering, all but forcing food down your throat, but you have to understand.

・❥・He won't let you leave again.

<><><><>

"That's it, songbird. Nice and slow." His voice crooned smoothly over your warbled cries, hands holding your hips and easing your descent onto him. "You're doing so well."

You were a sight. Watching you above him, feathers ruffling as your body sheened with sweat, glimmering in the light around the room? It drove him mad with lust. Maybe desire? He just knew he wanted you. And he had you. You had come back to him!

He knew you were meant for him from the start. You had always been such a caring companion, perfect in every way. When you chirped at him for a cut a little too deep, or nuzzled up to him when the nights were a little too cold? He knew. When you shoved herbs and berries into his hands to boost his immune system? He knew. When you ran your taloned fingers through his hair, picking out twigs and bugs? He knew.

He knew that you were irrevocably his. His to keep and cherish and love and hold. Those were all privileges that were only bestowed upon him. He only had to give you your own privilege. One that would be exclusive to you and you alone.

And he knew exactly what he wanted it to be. Because he had seen you care for him. He had seen the way you fret and croon and-

And he wanted-no, needed to see you be that way with your child. No. That wasn't right either. Not your child. His child. A kid made from the two of you?

He was so excited to meet them.

・❥・You probably save him from that dragon knight. Yk the one? In the beginning of the game? Him.

・❥・It probably leaves your feathers scorched and that's where he steps in. He cares for you with his basic military first aid knowledge.

・❥・You prove to be useful in battle, acting as an aerial advantage, so he keeps you close.

・❥・Your especially helpful when it comes to Cia. Your an unaccounted for variable. And she doesn't like that. She can try and get rid of you, but because Wars keeps you so close, it doesn't quite work out.

・❥・This only deludes him further, because if this powerful sorcerer that has a hand in time and space, can't separate you two, nothing can.

<><><><>

The hand around your throat tightened just a bit as his hips crashed against yours. In the back of his head, he worried about hurting you, but he had a mission that needed to be fulfilled.

As a Captain, the mission would override any concern.

He needed to ensure you stayed with him. That no matter what, you stayed by his side. And what was more damning than a baby? A person who would rely on the two of you so heavily that you would never even think of leaving him.

And that's what he needed. He needed you to stay with him. He needed you to remain with him, with your unyielding loyalty and unbending ferocity. You were everything he needed in this life. And the thought of you having his baby? Was something he also needed. Just the thought of having this perfect little nuclear family made his nerves buzz. He would provide and you would stay by his side.

Like a good little bird.

・❥・I can't tell if I hate this guy or love him.

・❥・I just- I think i mostly wanna hit him.

・❥・Now, I don't know a lot about the animated series, but I have too much self respect (/j),

・❥・But he probably meets you through Sprite. She seems like the type to be like 'Look who I met' to attempt to rub it in your face, but it backfires.

・❥・Courage finds himself too enamored with your glorious feathers and effervescent eyes, immediately laying it on thick. He's complimenting your eyes and your smile and the way the light reflects off the apples of your cheeks.

・❥・If you dare even giggle at his honeyed words, he knows he's got you. Hook, line and Sinker. Now, Courage is more of a brawn over brains type of guy, but he's still a link. He knows how and when to go on the down-low.

・❥・And, honestly, who's better suited for you then the hero of Hyrule?

<><><><>

"Come on, Princess. I know you can do better." He knew his smirk was infuriating if your low grumbles were anything to go by. "How can you prove you want my kid if you don't work for it?"

You gave a challenging look, bounces speeding up as you leaned into his space. You gave a low trill, feathers moving in a wave of agitation as you did, teeth bared down at him . It was so cute seeing you act so aggressive. Like you would ever stand a real chance against him. It was almost daunting- how trusting you were of him. How you just believed everything he told you.

How you trusted he would ever let you out of his sight.

How you trusted he would never use whatever means necessary to get what he wants from you.

How you trusted that he wouldn't do anything to keep you tethered to him.

But he would. Because once you were tied to him, once you were his in every way- with a fat ring on your finger and your belly so swollen you couldn't see you feet- you wouldn't be able to escape. There was no where in this kingdom nor the next that he wouldn't be able to find you. Not that it would matter. Once his child was safely growing, you wouldn't be able to move fast enough to get rid of him! You would lose your, aerial advantage, your running and hiding abilities would be greatly hindered, and should push come to shove, he wasn't against using the triforce to keep you right where he wanted you.

Afterall, you wouldn't want the kingdom your child was growing up in to be destroyed...Right?

・❥・For Legend to trust you to this level, you must've met him at the beginning of his first adventure. In fact, you probably saved him when he was still young and inexperienced.

・❥・Thus proclaiming you as his most trusted companion.

・❥・After Koholint, he for sure latched onto you far more than ever before. He couldn't risk you being torn away from him too.

・❥・Because of what happened with Marin, he felt he had lost the ability to love. But you quietly and calmly reassure that he hasn't.

・❥・Thus leads to him just...knowing that you are here to stay. You won't be leaving him anytime soon. You won't ever leave him behind.

・❥・He lost his chance the first time and he absolutely refuses to lose it again.

・❥・Even if it means temporarily overriding your basic autonomy. You'll understand eventually.

<><><><>

He knew his other form sometimes bled over into his hylian one. it was something he learned to live with and, sometimes, battled with depending on his mood and the circumstance.

He was sure this was part of that.

He had heard the saying 'Fucking like rabbits' but this is just a little ridiculous. It wasn't all that unwarranted however. He needed to mark you as his. Brand you and litter you with enough hickeys and bitemarks to have even the most dense boys (Because that's all they were when compared to him) backing off.

Legend had lost too much in too short a time to take any chances. Honestly, it was a miracle that you were still here. Hylia had proven that she liked taking the most precious things in his life away from him (That fraud. Thinking she could outsmart him?! Thinking he would go down without a fight?! She had another fucking thing coming.) and you had held that title for years.

And you would. For at least a few more months. But even then, you would only have to share.

As he hoisted your legs up to your chest, folding you practically in half as he kept his rhythm steady and continuous (over and over again. Until you remembered the shape of him and only him.), he felt his lips twitch. He could see you now, cradling his and yours young. An absolutely precious little kit that would have your eyes, your perfect eyes, and maybe his nose. Who would be brought up with your gentle nature, but his intellect. Who would know no dangers of the outside world as he would destroy it to keep you two safe.

If it kept you two warm, he wouldn't hesitate to burn it all down.

・❥・Yall have been WAITING for this one.

・❥・Now, my broken little rat. He probably meets you up on the Sky islands. You probably help him get down and he just...latches onto you.

・❥・When you stick with him, even down on the ground and into the depths, he slowly learns to trust you.

・❥・If your patient with him and let him move at his own pace? You aren't leaving. He has let too many people leave and let too many people fuck him over.

・❥・He will not let you do the same. In fact, he's thinking of a million and one ways to keep you with him.

・❥・while all of the boys will think a5bout it, Sage is the only one to actually genuinely clipping your wings. You can't leave him if you can't fly, now can you? He's faster than you.

・❥・ Let's say, for the sake of it all, you happen to befall an accident that makes clipping your wings necessary. While he isn't super excited about you being injured in any capacity, he is a little grateful that he didn't have to do it.

・❥・And on the plus side, he gets to be the good guy and nurse you back to health!

・❥・Not flying health (He has no idea why your wings aren't healing like the rest of you), but healthy enough he can enact his own little plan.

<><><><>

"Shit."

His voice quivered as he bent over your own hunched form, keeping your chest pinned to the counter he had deemed acceptable. His one hand remained locked onto your hip while the other snaked up your chest to gently wrap around your throat. There was no pressure behind the action, just enough to keep you right where he wanted you.

Keep you perfectly still while he pumps you so full of cum you'll have no choice but to carry his child. You won't ever be able to leave then. No, you were kind. Too kind for his world. Too nice, too much of a beacon of pure light to ever do that. You would never deprave a child of his father, nor would you deprave a father of his young. And he knew this. If he planned on capitalizing that fact, just a little, that was no one's business but his own.

Just the thought of you carrying a child, a perfect mix of both of you-- just as much yours and they were his-- was almost enough to have him thanking Hylia for you. For putting him through everything if only to gift him with you in the end.

Almost.

"Keep going, dove. Your almost there. Soon, we'll have a family of our own."

[mchlgayser]

MY MAN! ft rindou haitani ( ✮ )

synopsis: he just loves it when you take full control of the situation.

warning: languages

nana's note: HEYYY!!! How're you guys doing? It's been months and I missed you all so much! I've been busy with studies and exams these couple of months I could not find any time to write :(( As a special, sorry gift, I'm writing this for you guys. tell me if there's anything I should explicitly mention if I happen to forget any and happy reading mwahh!

The room packs of men and women, sweats drenching and drunk with heavy alcoholic drinks. The spacious room is dimmed-light but illuminated with red, purple, and blue hues.

You make your way inside the hall strutting to the bar and take a seat as you order yourself a drink. You were enjoying yourself, sipping the hard drink as you look around for familiar faces.

You could make out familiar faces of a certain lizard-looking guy and the pink-haired. Sanzu smirks smugly at you as he skips to you enthusiastically.

"'Fuck is goin' on with you?" Your face confronts in disgust at the stinging smells of alcohol on him "You smell so bad asshole, get away from me." He laughs at your insult, openly taking a seat beside "Where ya' man at?" You roll your eyes at him "You guys are the one with him the whole day, why are you asking me?"

Kokonoi abruptly interrupts "He's with Ran. Mikey ordered them to handle a meeting somewhere. Be back in a while." You absentmindedly hum at the information.

After some time, the two left somewhere, one going to handle the club's money and the other to mess around with the rest of the lingering prostitutes. A woman seemingly in her mid twenty walks toward you, chest and head standing contemptuously. Her dead curly blonde wig sways from behind as she takes a seat beside you. She ordered herself a drink and shamelessly told the bartender to put it under your bill.

"Know your place, the fuck you think you are doin'?" Her fake lashes battle on you "Whoops, sorry. Anyway, your name is Y/n, right? You are RinRin's girlfriend, yes?" Your left eye subtly twitches in annoyance at the used nickname.

"What is it to you?" She giggles, tucking a strand of her to the back of her ear "Nothing just... I didn't expect you. I mean for a guy like him to settle down for a woman like you? It doesn't make sense at all. Unlike me, a woman of a high fashion sense and ladylike. I could see why he came crawling to me every night. Oh whoops, slipped out." Your face raging with fire and a comical mark appears on the side of your temple.

"What a low-life bitch. Self-proclaiming my boyfriend to be crawling to you? Do you realize how pathetic you sounded? Rindou would never settle down for a woman that sells their body for money like you. You can drag your plastic ass outta my face, hoe." You give her one last glance before you stand up and left the scene.

You were walking to a vacant place when all of a sudden, you were pulled to a nearby secluded place near the restroom. You almost twist the doer's hand but stopped at the familiar tattoo design.

Rindou stood before you, hair chiseled, collared tee undone almost all the way you could see his bare chest and stench in dried blood. But that's not what concerns you, his smug smirk does. "The fuck happened to you? You got into a fight during the meeting or sum'?" He shakes his head, eyes still staring down at you "Me and Ran got ambushed by some low-level organization. Nothing we couldn't handle but what's more is how you shut that woman just a few minutes ago."

You scoff, hand folded in a sassing manner "I still hadn't asked you whether what she said is true or not, right? I can't just blandly dismiss her. Don't you feel the need, to be honest and tell me whether what she said is true or not, RinRin?" He groans at you, eyes moving from the woman from earlier than you "You are seriously considering believing her, come on-" His sentence gets cut off when you punch him in the gut making him grunt in pain.

"Ouch, fine, fine." He smirks again, leaning closer to you "Of course not, do you think I would consider her? Be honest, I'd do better-"

You glare at him, eyes as if challenging him to further speak. Rindou mentally drench in sweats as he coughs "Fine, sorry." Unlike his words, the smirk didn't flatter but instead grew intense.

"I just love it when you are like this." He chuckles when he notices you roll your eyes out of annoyance. "We better leave... Where's Ran?" He look around, shrugging.

"Making babies, maybe?" You snort, giving your boyfriend a short hug and a small laugh before you drag him out of the club. Rindou, however, turns back once in a while to look at a woman and before you two could disappear from her sight, Rindou gives her his majestic middle finger.

[stardewvalleybut-i-draw]

I wrote a giant description of all the characters based on what my friend and I were talking about can I have your opinion:

I am going to be starting with the first post where I mention the balectors of Stardew valley. This means the characters that you are able to date and eventually marry if you want to do that. In order to reach perfection, which is the end of the game, you need to have someone live in your house with 12 hearts in order to give you a stardrop. Hearts are friendship points you can get by giving points. That is one of the two ways to gain friendship. The other is through cut scenes you get by progressing in your relationship and by saying things that make them either like or hate you more.

Anyways, onto the characters, starting with Haley who is the first person you mention. I am married to her which is because I like how her character progresses. As you gain friendship with her, she gets more nice and is open to different things then she was before. For example, she used to throw away her clothes each year but says she donates it now. She is super cute and sweet when she is married to her and it seems as though she is in love. She is kind of like a disney princess as you mention because she likes makeup and is girly. The next you mentioned is Leah who actually lives in a cottage and lives to forage and build for you. Penny is actually the opposite of what you said as she is horrible at baking and teaches the two children in town (and eventually Leo) Jas and Vincent and she also likes to read. Her mother, Pam, is abusive. But I can talk about her in a little bit. Abigail is the most popular person to marry as people like her because she is adventurous and wants to fight in the caves and is in a band with Sam and Sebstain. There is a theory that she is actually the wizard’s daughter because her mom admits to going to his tower and her dad says they do not look similar and the wizard says he thinks he might have a daughter. Abigail is also kind of a meme because if you give her gems she will say, “How did you know that I was hungry?” Basically everyone considers her cool and a meme and she is probably the wizard’s daughter. Emily likes crystals and parrots and dances and all of her cut scenes are basically fever dreams. So she is kind of a psychopath and super excited all of the time. Her and Haley are sisters and do not get along. In earlier versions of Maru, she had really curly hair and a lot of the community, including me, thinks she looks better like that. I also consider her hair to be kind of cool. She likes robotics.

Anyways, the next up is the marriage candidates for the guys. You are totally right that it is so random. Elliot is a writer and he is very attention starved as he writes you poems and is obsessed with you when you date him and writes you a book based on what genre you say you like. Harvey IS a simple man. His favorite gift is coffee so you definitely got that done. He has anxiety and never talks to anyone and tries to be better about that if you date him. So he is chill and kind of a meme because your stuff gets taken if you get knocked out in battle and he charges a thousand gold for repairing you. You were exactly right with Sebastian as he is moody and does not like people and plays video games from 10am to 10pm. Alex is sexist to you if you are a girl and is kind of arrogant about wanting to be a professional football player. So you are completely right. You are wrong about Shane, though, he is actually really mean to you and wants you to not talk to him. Most of his events are about him being suicidal and depressed and an acholicoal. One is where he wants to roll off a cliff and is drunk. Not mafia material. I do agree about his jacket, though, it is kind of cool. Even though it has a J on it which stands for Joja which is a company he works for. Joja is basically the definition of capitalism in this game. Sam is actually friends with Sebastian and Abigail and he wants to be in a band which he is in. They like to play DND and it is a thing in the community that Sam and Sebastain should be dating.

Onto the villagers. Willy is a fisherman and kind of chill so you were sort of wrong but I would definitely want to go on an adventure with him as well so actually I agree, you win. Everyone loves Robin and a lot of people are sad you cannot date her because of Demetris. You were so wrong about Demetris but the way. Robin is actually Sebstain’s mom’s but he is it related to Demetrius. Demetris hates Sebastian but loves Maru and this makes Sebastian really angry. Demeteruis also does not care about Robin who we love. Sandy is my favorite as she is lonely in the desert and really wants to spend time with you and is super confident and sweet. You are right about Pam, also, by the way. She is super abusive and drinks too much beer every night and treats her daughter, Penny, unfairly. She also speaks like she is living in texas. The wizard is kind of weird but he is also cool because of his magic. Krobus is amazing and he is the opinion for the aromantics as you can have him move into your house and he gives you hugs instead of kisses and is amazing. The dwarf hates Krobus because of a war between the dwarfs and the shadow people so he kind of sucks. Krobus is adorable. Jas and Vincent are both kind of weird like no one cares about them. I mean Jas is more interesting because she is related to Shane and Marine and Vincent is interesting because his dad, Kent, has ptsd from fighting in the war. Kent is kind of weird and has a freakout because of popcorn because of his ptsd. Pierre is not like Harvey at all, he steals credit for your crops and only cares about money and nothing else. No one really likes him. Evelyn is the nicest person ever as she makes cookies for you and says you can call her Granny. Everyone likes her so much. Jodi is kind of boring and depressed because she has no freedom and spends her entire life taking care of her kids, Sam and Vincent. Demetris is awful. Linus and Leo go together because they both like nature and are kind of connected to it. Lewis is not. He steals money from the town and uses it to make gold statues of himself. He is dating Marine and refuses to make their relationship public even though no one would care and is toxic. Also, the others you did not mention are Caronline and Clint and George and Gus so I am just going to explain them. Caroline is Pierre’s husband and might be cheating on him so you know… kind of bad… whatever. She is fine I guess, it is weird, no one really cares about her. Clint has a crush on Emily and is super creepy about it and is kind of disgusting and tries to be like a sob story so not thank you. George is super grumpy and rude and is in a wheelchair because of a mining accident. Gus is amazing and kind of knows everything about everyone.

Onto the next section, okay? Grandpa looks blue because he is a ghost who visits you in your third year. I do not like him. It is weird. The governor is actually like you think he is, he has no clue about anything and just wants to visit once a year to literally just eat soup. (I am not kidding, look it up, promise you.) Marlon is actually like you say and he has a crush on Marnie and is a perfect opinion for her. Birdie is part of ginger island and is super sweet and gives you fairy dust and you find something for her to remind her of her husband who died in a tragic accident. It is amazing to do because you get an award and it is just wholesome and kind of sad. Gil does supply items and he is like a moment away from death basically so you are right. Gunther is awesome and yeah, kind of suspicious but great. Okay. That is all of the villagers summarized for you.

Woo boy, you gave me a whole novel!

well, here are some of my thoughts:

Penny isn't necessarily bad at cooking,(from what I know) she just shouldn't experiment. She's also shy and emotionally sensitive

Emily is what I believe people call a "Cristal girl" not necessarily a psychopath, she also seems to have her "head in the clouds" and yeah, positive most of the time.

Ermm... actually☝️🤓 Harvey takes 10% of however much gold you have.

Dang, you kept Alex one short! But yeah, same thing as Hayley but with the ego and the sexism if you're a girl. He also lives with Grany Eveiln and Granpa Jorge because his mother died and the father was presumably abusive

To be fair to ghost grandpa, he's stuck haunting the farm until you can get the perfection statue so he kinda can't move on lmao!

Marlon is also a cool adventurer who will go down in the dangerous mines to get your stuff if you pay him

I wouldn't say Demetrius hates Sebastian, he just has a huge favoritism problem. He's also a very logical thinker from what I can interpret in his dialog

And to be fair to Clint... the Farmer's also kinda a stalker...in more ways than one...

But I'm not here to argue anything, I'm just sharing some thoughts. You have a right to think whatever you want about whatever character

Overall pretty good! 👍

[stereo-slime4]

Idea: Pop World Tour AU

Essentially: Poppy finds out about other trolls, tries to befriend them via various pop medleys. This obviously doesn’t work, so she steals everyone’s strings because “if everyone is like us, there won’t be anything stopping us from being friends!” All the while, Branch sits very disapprovingly on the sidelines.

(More details below cut)

Poppy is looking through her dad’s old scrapbooks, eventually finds the Troll History one that talks about the other trolls and why they all separated and decides to go on a friend-making crusade of sorts (with the Snack Pack of course)

She starts singing all sorts of medleys of every top hit she can think of, and gets either thrown out or thrown in jail every time.

Eventually, Branch speaks up and says something along the lines of “Hey, this is starting to seem like a bad idea and I don’t think they like our music very much,” and Poppy says some along the lines of “Well if you think it’s such a bad idea, what do you suggest?”

Branch, of course, suggests going home, and at first Poppy’s all “What?? No! Absolutely not, giving up now is NOT an option!” But eventually starts to lean more towards “Actually, going home and doing some more research might help” and Branch is all “okay, I meant more “go home and give up before we start a war”, but sure, whatever.”

So they go home and start doing research, and Poppy finds out that if you put all the strings in a genre-specific instrument (like the harp that the Pop string is currently in), that they’ll all change genre and goes “Oh my gosh!! This is perfect!!! If all the trolls are the same genre, then there won’t be any reason to stay separate!” And of course Branch tries to take her out of it, and of course Poppy doesn’t listen, and they start the World Tour.

They send out invitations (think almost exact same wording as Barb’s invite) to an actual party where Poppy pitches her plan, and of course, no one agrees and everyone leaves incredibly pissed. Poppy sees this, and instead of doing the reasonable thing and leaving everyone alone, she goes on the offensive to take all the strings by force.

Branch tries to put a stop to this, even going as far as a heart-to-heart about people’s differences making them stronger, just like how different they are, and that some trolls just aren’t meant to be friends, but Poppy shuts it down saying that their differences was the only reason the trolls ever stopped being friends, and of some trolls really weren’t meant to be friends, maybe they weren’t meant to be friends. Then we get our “Perfect For Me”-adjacent scene.

Full battle plan in action, she successfully steals all the strings (mostly via stealth, but with a full assault team on standby just in case). This does not go over well, and everyone goes to Pop Village to get their strings back, just as Poppy had hoped. She then tries to play the Ultimate Power Chord, only to be stopped by Branch. She then lashes out at him, has him locked in the Fun Dungeon, and then turns everyone into Pop Zombies.

Upon looking out into a sea of what she thought would be new friends, only to see a bunch of zombies, Poppy realizes that “holy shit this is actually kinda fucked up..”

Almost immediately after she has this realization, Branch runs out having escaped the Fun Dungeon, breaks all the strings, and has a serious, firm talk with Poppy about how what she’s doing is absolutely not okay, fully prepared (and kinda expecting) to have to swaddle her in his hair to get her to listen, but Poppy just says something along the lines of “you’re right, Branch. It’s okay for trolls to be different. Just like us! I, for one, love our differences.” Branch, completely shook, can only muster the words “and I love you, Queen Poppy” Poppy goes “I love you too, Branch.” And then people start singing and music returns to all of troll-dom again✨

THE END

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

tbh i always thought amity should have been the one to give hunter a haircut. aside from being snippy/standing next to each other they haven’t really had time to interact after eclipse lake. and like, that episode was phenominal in building up their dynamic and picking at both their characters. even after the rest of season 2 and thanks to them i feel like although they haven’t interacted much, theyre definitely one of the pairs out of the gang that has the most potential to be super close.

but they don’t talk post eclipse lake, so the most we’ll probably get is a short exchange in the finale where they’re like “we cool?” “we are” “sick” *epic battle sounds* and that’s disappointing! they probably would have planned more with these two in a longer season 3 but man it would have been so cool to have amity see hunter freaking out over how much he looks like belos and help him with it. amity furthered her reconciliation with willow by helping her with her hair. it would be a nice parallel to see her reconcile with hunter by helping him with his hair as well. love is stored in amity’s hairdressing and whatnot.

like all season 1 she was under the influence of her mother and her green hair symbolized that. and in season 2, she changed her hair with the help of her siblings to symbolize how she isn’t under her mother’s control anymore and how she’s ready to grow for the better. hunter struggling with belos’s control over him parallels her. and amity would recognize herself in hunter’s desire to stop looking like belos by changing his hair. by thanks to them, she already resolved most of her baggage with her family, so she could help hunter resolve his baggage as a sort of “passing of the torch,” doing for him what her siblings did for her.

hunter went through a similar arc to amity where he realized the way he’s been taught to treat people isn’t good, and the kindness from his new friends taught him to change for the better. it’s not exactly like amity’s arc since his actions were more forced by dangerous situations while amity had more choice in befriending the gang, but theyre still similar. but anyway by eclipse lake, hunter was going through something similar to amity, but he was like 4 or 5 plot points behind her in character development. so when amity offers to be friends with him during a time of crisis, he doesn’t take her help and instead doubles down on helping belos. but by thanks to them, hunter has basically completed his “redemption” arc and is fully on the gang’s side. so at this point, when amity offers to cut his hair, he would be comfortable enough to accept her help. it would be a peace offering from hunter as well, accepting amity’s help when he attacked her for it before.

if they had a full season 3 they might have spent an entire b-plot of an episode on just the hair cutting scene. and if amity was the one cutting hunter’s hair, it might even be important enough to their character arcs to be an a-plot, with a few related scenes added. but alas, there are so many other prioritized arcs in the shortened season 3 so we probably won’t get a lot with amity and hunter becoming friends. i certainly wouldn’t want them to focus a whole subplot on it if there’s so much else to tie up. ah well. the hunter-amity reconciliation arc is canon in my heart. and in my ao3 account.

[her-devils-advocate]

That unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out

♥. Genre: angst / hurt and comfort

♥. pairings: The Dark Urge (Nell) x Astarion

♥. content warnings: Mentions of a suicide attempt.

♥. notes: I love the relationship between The Durge and Astarion so much, to the point where it's helped me wriggle out of my writer's block for a bit.

This is set towards the end of Act 2, after the confession scene but before moonrise.

♥. Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51332035

♥. Word count: 1,575

Astarion finds her, and for a moment, he almost wishes he hadn't. Every fibre of his undead being is frozen a few steps behind the shaking woman as she gazes out into the inky void that surrounds the camp. 

Nell idly plays with an elaborately decorated dagger, her nimble fingers running up and down the sharp blade before dancing over the red gem in the centre. He had seen this dagger in her hands a few times, only to seemingly vanish for a while before reappearing a week later. He manages to tear his eyes away from the odd dagger, only to find his stomach plummeting upon realising where she is. She is sat precariously on the edge of the broken ground, the black void swimming around her threatens to pull her down into its depths below.

He is hypnotised by the way the few slivers of moonlight -which had managed to cut its way through the gloom- reflects in the silent tears flowing down the half-elf's cheeks. Something is wrong. He can feel it in the air, see it in the rare tears painting her anguish for all to see.

"Darling," his voice is a gentle murmur to not spook her over the edge and into her own demise, "as dramatic as I can be and as much as I do love a good backdrop for my brooding, wouldn't you prefer to be closer to the fire we put a lot of effort into starting? You know, away from the mind-eating shadows or whatever the fuck that is."

The air around them goes still and his blood freezes as she turns to gaze upon him. Instead of silver-black eyes filled with warmth, he is met with cold onyx. Her timid -and quite frankly, often pathetic- demeanour is replaced by an oddly calm and sinister charade as she moves to stand.

He can see the fight behind her eyes as she battles the urge for control of her own body, yet Astarion doesn't feel the usual chill of being caught by a predator under her possessed gaze. 

"Astarion, I don't know what's happening, it came on so fast but it's..." Nell trails off, turning to look longingly over the edge. "The urges are different this time, or well...the target is different, I think."

They stand there momentarily, one processing the words while the other considers their actions. The distant sounds of chatter follow them to the edge, broken now and then by Nell's small sniffles.

Astarion had become a statute, mentally berating himself for not rushing towards her and pulling her into his arms, away from danger. But he falters instead, clearing his throat to try and string together the words he needed to say.

"Love, it's alright. Why don't you come over here, closer to the camp and tell me all about it, hmm?" “No. No, I can’t Astarion.” She shakes her head mournfully, her thick jet-black braid swinging behind her with the motion. She takes a deep breath, frantically running her hand through the short layers of hair hanging by her chin. 

Astarion fidgets uncharacteristically, unsure of what to do, what to say. For once his silver tongue was nothing more than lead in his mouth. His ears twitch at the sound of her drawing in a shaky breath, preparing the words that might shatter them both.

“Aren’t you tired Astarion? I’m tired.” “Well, that usually happens when someone is stalking through the night when they are supposed to be sleeping. So why don’t you step away from that ledge, put down that bloody dagger -or even better, throw it off the ledge- and come back to bed with me?”

His usual mask of aloof humour slips with each word. His words become a frantic plea with each passing second. If his undead heart was capable of pounding within his chest, it would be beating faster than ever, to the point of bruising his chest. The thought would amuse him if anxiety wasn’t currently swimming through his veins. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Nell snaps before flinching at the sharp tone in her voice. She gives him a small, apologetic smile, her black eyes glistening with more unshed tears before the smile slips from her features. “Aren’t you tired of the countless nights I’ve spent tied up, hurling nothing but insults at you? The amount of times I’ve had to wake you up, terrified out of my mind that I would kill you in the night?

That’s not how a lover’s supposed to act. That’s not how I want to act and you deserve more than that. I’m so scared, Astarion. I’m terrified of what I’m capable of and I’m so tired of whatever has gone wrong in my mind to make me like this.”

A spark of anger flares within him, threatening to become an inferno before he can quell it. 

“So what now then? You are simply going to give up and throw this all away? To make everything you have done to avoid becoming a mindflayer and to avoid giving into that urge all for nothing?” “That’s not what-” “I’m not finished,” his stern voice cuts through hers without hesitation as he shoots her a glare, daring her to interrupt him again. He lets out a deep sigh as frustration replaces his anger, and his fingers flex with the need to hold her. To feel his cold fingers run over her warm flesh, to let himself believe that tonight won’t be the night he loses her. 

He runs his hands through his hair instead, his voice dropping to a dejected whisper. “You said you would beat this wretched urge, not just for me, but for yourself. How many times have you managed to resist so far? Considering we are both still standing, I believe it's safe to say you’ve resisted a good amount of times already. Don’t let any of those urges win tonight.”

Nell steps forward, a small and hesitant step, doubting her every move before she throws her arms around the taller elf. The dagger falls to the ground behind them with a dull clink, Astarion makes a mental reminder to throw it away once and for all before burying his face into her hair, holding her as tight as he can before he begins to leave bruises. 

“I’m sorry, Astarion. I’m so so sorry. I want to be the person you think I can be, but it’s just so hard sometimes.” Her words are laced with sobs as she breaks down within his embrace, the sleepless nights finally catching up to her fragile mental state. 

Astarion lets out a small huff of relief, pulling away from her just enough to place a tender kiss on her forehead, relishing the way her eyes flutter shut at the action, only to flicker back open to reveal her usual silver-black eyes.

“You already are that person, dear. You are a brave, lovely and extremely silly woman,” He chuckles as he feels her squirm in his hold, trying to free an elbow to jab into his side, no doubt. He gives a light tug to her braid in response. “I’ve already told you before, the urges aren’t who you are. So don’t let them be the ones to decide how you go out.” “Okay, I won’t.” She brings her head up to gaze at him, noticing the tension in his expression despite the smile he gives her. Guilt replaces fear, the feeling suffocates her for putting him through another long night once again.

Nell trails her hands over his chest, smoothing out the creases she had caused to appear in the fabric of his shirt. She winces slightly at the wet patch, damp from her tears. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you. I thought it would be for the best, don’t give me that look, I know I wasn’t thinking clearly now. But I…I don’t want to do that. Not really, I don’t want to end whatever this is, what it can be, before it's even begun. That’s one good reason to keep up the fight, eh? That is if you are still interested now, after all this.”

He looks down at the smaller woman in shock, he smothers the urge to laugh at her words and instead gently takes hold of her hand, admiring the way her smaller fingers instantly interlock with his own.

“Of course I’m still interested, remember that part about you being a silly woman? Yes well, you should remember that I happened to…ah, confess my…feelings to you long after the first time ‘you’ tried to kill me. I know what I’ve gotten myself into and I’m with you every step of the way, darling.”

His smile falters for a moment as more tears begin to stream down her cheeks, yet before he has a chance to panic, she’s holding onto him once more. He slowly guides them to the ground until she is sat in his lap, sobbing lightly into his chest as his hand lazily draws circles on her back.

“Astarion, I…really appreciate you, you know?” Her words are muffled, almost lost within the ruffles of his damp nightshirt, yet he hears her as loud as day. He nods once before resting his cheek against her head, holding her together for the rest of the night until dawn arrives to scare the rest of the shadows away.

[fandomwe1rd0]

My Review of episode 8 of the Rick and Morty anime:

Okkk episode 8 of the anime here we go! Obvious spoilers under the cut!

So yeah I hate it. Elle is the same intolerable Mary Sue, but this episode does have a few highlights, let's start off with those then I can complain about this episode!

RICK AND MORTY ACTUALLY INTERACT! Yes, it's underwhelming, especially considering we hate to wait for 7 episodes straight before they have a real interaction, BUT! I can't help it you guyssss I'm easy to please, and I have missed these two SO MUCH! No it doesn't at all compare to their dynamic in the original show, but I'm just happy that they are like…actually talking and INTERACTING! Probably made this one of my favorite episodes, purely just because they interacted…yeah my standards are in the dirt.

I'm glad Beth, Space Beth, and Summer were actually pretty badass in the battle, even if Space Beth literally worshipped Elle before that but let's not think about that right now, these are the positives

Uh uhm…uhhhhh well uhhh I….uhm…long haired Rick was…fine…? And the after credits scene was fine…I guess?

Now with that aside, that is quite literally the only positive things I have to say about this episode, it is still garbage, make no mistake about that. Now we're moving onto the negatives

I FUCKING HATE ELLE! I hate the line "You're way more useful than Morty" Not only do they have to worship Elle, but they have to take a giant crap on Morty in the process, yes Morty is insulted in the show, but it actually has plot importance, showing his growing repressed rage and low self esteem. That line was just mean.

Rick and Morty's interaction is very underwhelming. We had to wait 7 episodes to see Rick tell Morty to shut up when Morty cries and we see them talk to long haired Rick, I will cave and admit they do actually interact, but I mean…it…it's not good…it's just very underwhelming like…we had to wait 7 episodes for this? And it's literally almost the end of the season, I really hope the next 2 episodes are Rick and Morty centered, cause the lack of Rick and Morty interacting in a show that's LITERALLY CALLED "Rick and Morty" is insane

Morty and Elle's relationship is again very forced, they have no romantic chemistry and their relationship LITERALLY begins with Elle unconsensually kissing Morty so uh…and they just are really boring as a couple in general, and they aren't even a cute couple, I know Morty is 14 and Elle is probably 16, but I mean, Morty looks 12, and Elle looks 16, it's just more boring and even together it looks creepy, I just do not like it. And also Elle didn't even try to stand up for Morty when Summer said that she was more useful than Morty, then has the NERVE to glare at Rick when Morty cried. Like c'mon girlie, the hypocrisy is showing. That's not even mentioning that their relationship is literally the DEFINETION of "tell, don't show" where Morty just says how much he loves Elle and how comfortable and safe he feels with her and blah, blah, blah, blah, it's just so forced and awkward, I am NOT a fan of them as a couple.

Hey, remember in Meeseeks and Destroy where Rick was actually worried about Morty when he started crying? Yeah…I miss that Rick, in the anime Rick literally just tells Morty to shut up and says he feels sorry for him like…t-that's not comforting Rick, crazy how they made RICK unlikable when I am someone who literally still loves me through everything, it's insane.

Hey remember that plotline in episode 6 where there was a legitimately interesting plotline that put Elle, a major characters, life in danger, yeah, that doesn't matter now, now it will only affect long haired Rick, I'm guess they meant to raise some questions about like selfishness or something, but it comes off as awkward

It is confusing as hell.

It's an Elle centered episode.

Rick is even more selfish than usual.

The dialogue is very unnatural as usual.

This is a nitpick, but Long haired Rick and normal Rick insulting each other for being old and their bald spot was dumb and unfunny, I know they both have that and are the same age and that's the joke but…it wasn't funny

They do attempt some jokes, but they aren't funny and are just awkward and you just get the realization like "Oooohhh that was a joke…"

Conclusion: It sucks, I'm sorry it's so bad, I'm gonna give it a 2/10…I think? There was 3 things I liked about the episode so uhm…at least there's that.

[geothe-isnazeya]

A Rose for Vampire, Chapter Four

Summary: "...More lovely than I expected," Bayonetta whispered, kneeling on the bed and leaning over the newborn Ventrue. Her platinum hair splayed out beneath her, like ginkgo leaves in late autumn.

CW: this series has some intense, gory scenes and might get a bit steamy. But don't fret, this particular chapter is as calm as a summer's day. Hey, this story's got a lot of jargon flying around. If you're feeling lost, it might be a good idea to start from the very beginning.

Just letting you know, the whole series is getting updated bit by bit on AO3. If you're into vampire alternate universes, this one's definitely for you! Imagine what kind of sparks would happen if Bayo was Jeanne's mentor. It would be like a battle of love. 

Quick Facts： [1]Haven: A haven is the residence and intimate domain of a vampire, where they slumber during the day and may labor during the waking night. The nature of a vampire's haven is usually assumed to be representative of his Resources, Domain, Status, and other social traits.

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"Ha..." Jeanne gently covered her yawning mouth with hand.

Bayonetta smiled, her silver eyes could not hide her affection, and she said nothing while Jeanne blinked hazily.

Rose turned around, tapped the elevator floor button quickly with her fingers, and a drop of blood dripped on the small disc that popped out. She bent down and blinked at the hidden camera. The rose emblem belonging to the Toreador clan flashed on the display screen, replacing the previous dentist advertisement.

The elevator descended to a certain floor without stopping. The ground lights on both sides were laid in the corridor, and the star-like light extended to a door.

Bayonetta walked out of the elevator, without holding her hand, and tilted her head to motion for newborn to follow.

Jeanne walked closer to see that door at the end was as wide as three people holding hands. It was painted a warm golden brown, with dark patterns flowing on the metal surface, carved into clusters of lush roses.

"Remember the order you saw, baby Mary." The older vampire traced those entangled branches, leaves and petals with her hand. Everywhere she went, the golden stream of light flew with her fingertips. Finally, the whole thing flickered and then dimmed. The door of residence open from the middle.

The high indoor roof divides the space into two floors, with the living area on the first floor and the studio on the second floor. Black paint and polished stone occupy the main field of vision, and the yellow and white light in the corners cuts the pure black neatly.

All facilities are available, the silver water drop chandelier in the hall shines with tears, the spacious and bright white island kitchen, the modern decoration style accommodates the owner's favorite sculptures and art ornaments, and retro photography and paintings are mounted on the walls.

The overall look is unified and not messy, and most of the built-in cabinets are not bloated. In order to fit the tall figure of the owner, an elegant and spacious layout is captured with money and refinement.

Stepping into the haven, platinum knight felt refreshed and watched as the door behind her closed again and melted into the black wall.

"High technology is good, but sometimes we need traditional way." Brunette vampire was rummaging through the drawers in the hall. Jeanne caught a small string of sparkling things flying over, and only found out that it was a key in her hand. The jagged edges were thick, and polished flawlessly.

"This is the key to the secret door. You don't need to take the elevator." "Can you be a good girl and go home alone before curfew?" She tilted her head to look at blue blood, and then went to the deep corridor.

"Come on, your room is here."

The platinum newborn walked over and stood obediently at the door, watching brunette woman introduce the furnishings in her room, and many names of Italian designers popped out of her mouth. Her pronunciation of Italian is also perfect, with a hint of Bayonetta.

Her sleepy eyes were glued to the bed at the first glance. The high-end fabric on the maroon bed shone with delicate luster, and it was covered with a blanket that looked very warm, making her eyelids fight.

Vampires don't need sunlight, and the completely sealed black color gives them a sense of security. Only the dim bed lamp sheds warm light, and the burnt-brown wooden wall supports the space above the bed.

Silver eyes simply confirmed the wardrobe and the long table that can be used for work, and nodded to Bayonetta. Obviously, politeness is still supporting her spirit.

"You can buy any furniture you need. You'll find the bathtub in the master bedroom." Seeing her fatigue, the woman came over, finally took Jeanne's hand, led her to sit on the bed, and then stroked the back of her hand, saying softly.

"Sleep tight, my dear, and don't worry about a thing till sun goes down. We'll go out when you rise and shine—" Her last note was long and drawn out.

Her confidence and good mood made every note sound soft and sweet, and the hypnotic honey poured into her voice. To Jeanne, it seems that sleeping is okay now.

"Humm..." Jeanne mumbled, her gaze fixed on the woman's fair face. She was supporting herself on the bed with her hands, which started to tremble slowly. She planned to wait until Bayonetta left before snuggling into the quilt. The extra blood she had sucked was making her feel drowsy, and the rising sun outside was messing with her internal clock.

Sire, smells so good... Rose, I can't sleep...

She let out a little yawn again, lost in her thoughts. Someone gently caressed the back of her head, quietly grasped her shoulders and lowered her down. She was snuggled into a cozy blanket. Jeanne was surrounded by the scent of roses, and her consciousness drifted into peace at some point.

"...More lovely than I expected," Bayonetta whispered, kneeling on the bed and leaning over the newborn Ventrue. Her platinum hair splayed out beneath her, like ginkgo leaves in late autumn. In Haven, her own drowsiness would come later, but she didn't expect the other's meticulous nature to be so sleepy. She couldn't help but giggle behind her hand. The brunette woman came close to her face and sucked hard on the skin below her cheekbones, leaving a telltale mark.

Jeanne dodged in her dream, eyelashes trembling, and fell asleep in the ocean of unconsciousness.

She restrained her desire to drink blood, the taste would be better if she offered it freely, and rubbed the platinum woman's neckline with her nose, smelling the faint fragrance on her skin, the chill of cedar and the refreshing aroma of lily were just mesmerizing.

After doing all this, Rose snuggled up next to the woman, grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest as she admired the woman's peaceful sleep. Thinking back to the sweetness of their first meeting today and the tender moments they'd just shared, she could still feel the tingling from Jeanne's tongue on her hand. Unable to resist, she buried her face in the pillow and squeezed her arms in excitement. She moved carefully, and after a while, she looked at the sleeping vampire.

Her hand slipped under the blanket, feeling for the zipper of the woman's jacket, marveling at how the leather jumpsuit really suited her. Maybe next time she would give this style a try herself, or perhaps she should find an opportunity to dress her up.

She gently wandered, first reaching for the waist that she'd been thinking about all night, measuring how many fingers it took to span from the woman's waist to her navel. She rubbed back and forth there for a while, able to tell through the clothes just how well-toned she was. Seeing that Jeanne had no signs of waking except for her mumbling, she relaxed her knuckles and slid them down along the middle line of the body boldly, until she slowly pulled down the chain at her neck, preparing to retrace her steps and free her holy body...

A familiar vibration erupted, followed by the buzzing sound of stone wall opening and closing. Bayonetta sighed, covered Ventrue with the blanket again, shook her head to clear away the frustration of the missed chance, and reluctantly left the bed to greet the guest she had summoned.

The person stood respectfully outside the door, holding a cooler in both hands, ready to hand it over. She was dressed in a sharp denim blue suit, paired with a white undershirt that was tailored to fit from the front to just below her waist. Her short, blue hair was neatly trimmed, and there was a teardrop-shaped tattoo on her right cheek. Waiting didn't seem to bore her; it wasn't until Bayonetta approached that she cracked a smile.

Melody stood her ground, opened the portable cooler, and displayed the neatly arranged packs of blood plasma for inspection.

"To cater to the lady's taste, I personally picked these at the Red Cross," she said as she closed the cooler lid, about to step past the attending vampire to store the blood packs in the fridge. Seeing that Bayonetta didn't seem to want to move aside, she wondered if something was not going her way this time, but then saw her reach out to take the cooler, indicating she didn't need her help.

"Is everything alright?" Melody peered into the room. She was used to her bossing her around, which was why she went out so close to the morning. The clan princess was picky about food and did everything herself, and all this unusual behavior must have something to do with the new Ventrue.

"Nothing, my dear, it's nice to do things by myself once in a while," Bayonetta casually flipped through a few bags of blood, checked the collection times and blood metrics, and closed the freezer with satisfaction. The cold touch made her palms chill, and she wanted to hurry back to the warm bed with Jeanne.

Melody's smile was a bit stiff, but the lady's willfulness was still bearable.

"So—have you met her? You and that Ventrue girl." "Two weeks ago you told me that her Sire wouldn't easily give up guardianship and went on about how beautiful she is, but you didn't send me any photos." Seeing that Bayonetta had no intention of letting her into the room, the maid leaned against the door frame, her voice raised, and her dark gray eyes filled with curiosity.

"Huff... Don't blame me for being so mysterious." "You're right, she's even more beautiful in person than in photos." "It's not that I had some fantasy about platinum blonde, but when I saw her bathed in moonlight..." She reminisced about Ventrue's beauty, filled with admiration and realization. Even though she wanted to hurry Melody away, she couldn't help but express it. As sisters of the Toreador, they faced the same curse of obsession..

"Time and space stood still. Remember when you were with Vanessa~.... something just like that." The raven-haired Rose finished the latter half of the sentence, holding the cooler with one hand, laughing and shaking her wrist to spark her imagination.

"Ha! Then you're in real trouble." Melody laughed heartily, slapping her thigh and nodding repeatedly to show understanding.

"Which room did you put the Blue Blood in?" "I've got the letter of her first commission on me, and a message from Mrs. Rosa, to wish her well." The woman pulled out a notebook from her pocket, the sealed letter without a single crease.

"Oh, Mommy is so sweet, just leave it to me, I promise the girl will see it as soon as she wakes up." She pinched the envelope with her free hand, ready to take the servant's job for the second time, but failed.

"Is she here, right? Oh my God, Bayonetta, you've placed her in Toreador's Haven." She couldn't believe it, and the stack of letters pulled back. "How much do you trust her? Crap, you have only met once, you don't need me to tell you what the haven is..."

"It's a secret that vampires rely on to survive. Honey, you're gonna give me callus on my ears, she drank my blood, there's nothing to worry about." "Besides, I'm the mentor, it's my job to check things out." She raised her eyebrows, spotted her chance, flicked her wrist, and snatched the letter with a light movement.

"I sent it to your email ages ago, but I guess you didn't see it." Melody looked like she had no way to deal with her, covering her face and slapping it a few times to wake up her brain.

Now that Bayonetta had both hands full, the shorter woman brushed past brunette one's arm and squeezed through the door.

It would be rude to just go and see which room the new vampire was in, and it wouldn't be smart to provoke the serving woman. Melody looked back to see her sauntering after her, got the princess's tight-lipped expression, closed her eyes in defeat, quickly took the cooler, and under Bayonetta's watchful eyes, put the supplies in the fridge.

"May I take a peek? You can't hide her forever, next party you'll have to bring her along, to meet your mother, of course." The blue-haired vampire lowered her voice, getting closer to the Rose that wasn't looking her way, coaxing her.

"Who says I'm going to hide her forever, like some fool. One day, she'll be a powerful Ventrue, just like her Sire wants." She helplessly spread her hands, pretending not to care, but there was bitterness in her words.

"She's a Ventrue, don't tell me you have no confidence to train her." "So sensitive, you're not worried I will steal her away... When have we ever had the same ex? Ouch!" A slap hit the back of her head, she rubbed it in pain, saw Bayonetta's displeasure, but turned her head and walked towards a certain room first.

"She's beautiful enough to be Venus, oh no, maybe Athena. A little less sensual, a touch more divine. What she's got on her neck..." Melody reached out, leaning on the door frame, gazing at the sleeping beauty from afar. Her master stood by with arms crossed, unable to get any closer.

"Alright, alright, looking forward to seeing you both at the party." She saw the coldness in her eyes and knew it was best to stop there, loyalty to a friend coming first. Melody gave her a look of encouragement and understanding before heading back to the entrance.

"Don't get any tanned, my dear, you have to promise me." She watched her step over the door

"Just upstairs, call me if you need anything." The blue-haired rose touched her temple with two fingers, then waved goodbye without looking back.

Finally, they were alone in the room. Bayonetta, now stripped down to her silk nightgown, took off them makeup and crawled back into bed. Although she wanted to muster the energy to stay awake and admire the naked body a little longer, she was at the brink of dozing off and miraculously held on until she undressed Jeanne before closing her eyes.

Probably for warmth, Jeanne instinctively moved closer to the source of heat, hugging one of her arms as Bayonetta lay flat. The older vampire placed another kiss on her forehead.

.tbc

Notes：Any comments and feedback are welcome, and I would really like readers who can tell me their favorite scenes in each chapter, which will greatly help my writing improve.