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#blanket pardon
definitely-not-a-mew · 7 months
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OK last one for now I just REALLY love this guys long snoot @loupy-mongoose
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novelconcepts · 4 months
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It’s always so funny to me when someone can’t tell the difference between an actor who’s over the top and an actor who is doing an intentionally over the top performance. The former can be super aggravating, I get it—but the latter can be so goddamn effective. Especially when you know the actor already, know they’re fully capable of giving normal human facial expressions and chill line deliveries. And they’re out here doing The Absolute Most all of a sudden? It’s for a reason, dude. It’s almost always for a reason. And once you can see past the camp on the surface, it’s so much fun digging in to what emotions the character is actually hiding.
#this is mainly about servant (and to a lesser degree YJ)#like Ambrose in servant is (pardon me) serving SUCH a chaotic performance#but having known her for decades I know full well that’s on purpose#Dorothy is over the top because she HAS to be. because she’s built walls so high around her own grief that the denial comes out in Crazy#and she fully thinks she’s the only one paying attention. the only sane one in the room.#you get glimpses of her being ‘normal’ in flashbacks#still a little Much. still a product of wealth and expectation. detached from reality to a degree.#but the character she becomes after the tragedy is. A Character.#it’s not the woman she was before. she bricked that woman up. she’s taken her performance from television and made a baby blanket out of it#it’s so. so intentional.#and you sort of get a similar thing going with Hewson in early eps of YJ#totally different starting block. Van doesn’t start out traumatized. but she does start out Big#she’s loud she’s silly she’s being intentionally wacky to get laughs out of people#and some of it comes off a little cringe. because it’s a kid playing a role#this is how you like me. I’m gay. I’m butch. I’m hiding.#if I’m a jester you’ll see what I want you to and nothing more. that’s the plan. it’s working. don’t look at the goalie.#not as a person.#but as the show goes on (or as she’s spending time with taissa) she slows down some. quiets. she’s snarkier. holding tension differently.#Hewson starts the performance at an 11 so they can really delve into who Van becomes when the mask is off#when there’s no point in playing the class clown#when it’s like. ah yeah. here’s the kid who grew up too fast.#here’s the kid who’s scared to death. and angry. and willing to fight to live.#it’s not an overacting thing. it’s VAN overacting to keep her secrets#watch the face so you miss what the hands are doing#actors man. actors are fucking cool. storytelling is fucking cool.#deconstructing the illusion is my favorite thing#(anyway still watching servant and it’s still really. Something Else.)
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lionblaze03-2 · 2 months
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Hate that I can prettymuch never move to any better country than America (Canada, Australia, New Zealand, etc) because they all hate people with autism and if you even have it they don’t let you in. Because they need all the disabled slots for the people born there, why would they take EXTRA ‘useless’ people, duhhh LIKE IM NOT USELESS I’m really good at organizing I’m not a massive burden to take on just because I cry sometimes my benefits and burdens kind of even out PLEASE guys. I don’t want to be stuck here during project 2025 onward
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androcola · 1 year
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one of mickys favorite games to play witn mike is autopsy where he has mike lay flat with a blanket over him so that micky can take it off and then pretend to perform an autopsy on him
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leguin · 2 years
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if lestat were a human he’d just need like 5 roommates and some job where he gets to tell people what to do in a way that makes him feel superior, but unfortunately he’s a vampire who really enjoys killing so. not much to be done.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]
“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.
“Batman. What can I do for you?”
“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”
“Pardon?”
Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.
“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”
“No…? Why?”
“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.
“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.
“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”
The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.
“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”
“Hn.”
“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”
Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”
“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”
“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”
“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.
“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”
“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”
“He’s a child.”
“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”
“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.
“Totally. Yup.”
“…Fine.”
“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”
“Yes.”
——
“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.
“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”
Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.
Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…
Ah!
“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.
“Anyways, fork over my payment.”
Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.
“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.
“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”
“I don’t litter.”
“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”
“An alive friend?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”
Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.
——
“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”
“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”
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uss-edsall · 8 months
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I read a very interesting article recently.
Hiroo Onoda is a famous name among WWII history buff circles. He was the soldier who disappeared into the Philippine jungle at the end of the war with three other soldiers, and ended up being the last to surrender after 29 years fighting a "guerilla war" until he surrendered in 1974. For at least twenty years he fought with one other, Kinshichi Kozuka; who was killed by police in 1972.
The article was about one woman named Mia Stewart, a Filipino-Australian, who's trying to get the funding to finish a documentary she's been working on for about 20 years.
The documentary she's making is trying to shed a little more light than the fascinating "lone samurai" legend that has been built up around Onoda. It very pointedly asks one thing -- what is this "guerilla war" he was fighting for 29 years? Who were his opponents? Who was he fighting?
Onoda (and Kozuka until his death) were killing, sometimes in very gruesome ways, almost exclusively Filipino civilians. Innocent people who were just living their normal lives -- who couldn't fight back. One of their victims was Mia Stewart's great uncle, when she was barely two years old.
The article essentially asks, "war hero or serial killer?"
Those civilians he stalked and killed or stole from for nearly thirty years weren't ever asked their opinion before the Filipino president gave a blanket pardon, Onoda was welcomed home a hero, and he gained worldwide fame. Their side of the story entirely forgotten as some nebulous force he was fighting "guerilla warfare" against.
It was genuinely kind of enlightening because even I have kind of looked at the Onoda story as a, "wow that's crazy" and never really gave it more thought of "who exactly was he fighting?" I figured he was shooting at cops, if anything. But no, it was nothing as simple as that.
The documentary is not out yet (she doesn't have the funding to finish it, the article was essentially one long ad to go "and if you can donate please do so") but there is a nine minute extended trailer from two years ago
On some level I think if I'd just given it any ounce of thought I'd have gone, "who was he fighting actually?" But instead I just assumed he spent nearly thirty years fighting cops… not doing what the IJA did best and mutilating helpless civilians. But I bought the popular narrative entirely and didn't give an ounce of a think at the question of who was he fighting in this 'guerilla war.'
"Actively fighting a war… against who?" is a question that just straight up never came to my mind.
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ellecdc · 1 month
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HIII!!!!!!!!! first off i wanna say - I LOVEEEEE ALLLLLLLL THE RECENT WORKS SM i came back and i was reading through them and they're soooooo good ur so talented omgomomg
ok so request (take ur time if u want!!) idk if u write platonic fics but i really really love how u write barty and that one fic where reader and reg were fighting and she was bsfs with barty- i loved it smmmmm so can we please get some platonic barty x reader being the main focus? (i dont mind anyyy romantic pairings i just want best friend barty being absolutely insane plsplsplpslsl
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of course MY LOVE; this request is from back in March hahaha sorry
poly!moonwater x fem!reader who they find in bed with Barty
CW: fluff, swearing
Regulus had spent the last umpteen years believing himself to be a light sleeper, likely thanks to growing up in a house straight out of a muggle horror film where his fight or flight reflexes were always at the ready to flee from any danger. It appeared, though, that being,  like, loved by and feeling safe with the people you surround yourself with could do wonders to a person’s subconscious…
Who knew?
This meant that though Regulus was typically a light sleeper, he seemed to have slept through your departure from his bed in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to sleep through the sudden jolt Remus caused in the bed as he sat up and began panickedly feeling around the bed. 
“What’re you doing?” Regulus groaned as he pulled his pillow over his head and rolled onto his side in order to point his back towards his - currently skating-on-thin-ice - boyfriend. 
“Where’s dovey?” Remus hissed back; an urgent quality taking over his words that Regulus could tell it was far too early to be dealing with.
“What d’you mean?”
Remus groaned in exasperation as he cast a lumos with his wand. “I mean where is our girlfriend, you sod.”
“Have you checked with Barty?”
Regulus almost allowed sleep to pull him back into its sweet, sweet embrace before Remus ruined it again.
“What?”
“Barty, Remus. Have you checked with Barty?” Regulus repeated irritably.
“No? What? Why would I have checked with Junior?” Remus sputtered, though his asinine question was answered by none other than Barty himself.
“Finders keepers mother fuckers.” He snickered quietly.
Remus ripped open the curtain of Regulus’ four poster bed in the Slytherin dungeons to see you sleeping quite peacefully on the opposite side of Barty who was grinning arrogantly at your two boyfriends. 
“What!?” 
“She was too hot over there; I can feel the heat radiating off of you from here, Lupin. What the fuck is that about?”
“She could have taken a blanket off!” Remus argued petulantly.
“You kept tucking her back in saying she was going to catch a cold.” Regulus added helpfully sleepily.
Barty snickered at Remus’ disbelieving scoff. 
“No. Absolutely not; Junior, give me our girlfriend back.” He demanded.
This time it was Barty’s turn to scoff. “Would you shut the fuck up, Lupin; we’re trying to sleep over here.”
And to Remus’s absolute horror, you seemed to stir at the conversation causing you to reach an arm over Barty’s chest and rest your head on his shoulder before you settled back into a restful slumber. 
“Leave her be, Rem.” Regulus chided, causing Remus to divert his malcontented glare to his boyfriend.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re always going on and on about how we need to prioritize sleep; she’s doing that.” He explained simply.
“With him!” Remus nearly shrilled, earning him a ‘shut up you stupid sod’ from said girlfriend stealer.
“Well would you rather have both of us be tetchy tomorrow for having our beauty sleep interrupted, or just me!?” Regulus finally barked, pulling his pillow away from his face to shoot Remus a stern glare. 
Remus seemed to consider his options before he begrudgingly relented and sunk back under the covers with a very petulant harumph.
“She’s going to smell like him tomorrow.” He pouted as he pulled Regulus into his arms possessively. 
Regulus sighed and nuzzled further into Remus’ neck. “You can fix that tomorrow.”Regulus felt the tension in Remus’ body relax as he no doubt imagined all the ways he would be doing just that.
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luveline · 4 months
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hi could you do james maybe massaging reader with persistent back pain? he'd be a total sweetheart about it
fem!reader
James is heavier than he looks. 
“I resent that,” he says after you’ve told him so breathlessly, shifting his weight off of your thighs as much as he possibly can. 
“No, you’re fine, just don’t press on my back,” you say. 
“I have to press on it. A bit.” He leans down, arms either side of you, your face hidden in the blankets beneath. “I’m not going to hurt you, yeah? If I do anything unbearable, all you need to do is tell me.” He smells nice, so close, the after effects of his macadamia oil shampoo. 
“I feel like I’m about to have major surgery.” 
“Don’t mind the scalpels.”
He begins with very gentle movements, almost like he’s going to turn you around and start kissing you. You laugh as he pushes your shirt up, but can’t find it in you to keep going when his lips press gentle and warm to the centre of your spine. You’ve been in a lot of pain recently and your boyfriend has yet to falter. It was his suggestion that he give you a massage, and his own volition to have researched how to do it. 
“I’m gonna use more pressure slowly,” he says, making palm-circles against your skin, “and it might hurt some, but if it’s too much, if it’s even a little over your threshold, I’ll stop.” 
“I’m not worried.” You can’t take his entire weight, but some pressure might be nice. “Just no tackles.” 
“No promises.” 
He gives a very nice, very soft massage for a time, the brunt of his palms pushing into your back and up to the line of your bra. He pushes just under it and murmurs about how cold you are, though his constant touching warms you soon enough. When he begins pressing, the pain twinges funny. It hurts in strange places and James chases into knots and stringy muscle with quiet dedication, the room a quiet sanctuary made of your shared breaths and his occasional kiss. 
You could fall asleep. Your eyes closed, arms crossed in front of you, weirdly close to him but not close enough. “Come hug me,” you say tiredly. 
“Is this doing anything besides putting you to sleep?”
You’re not totally sure. It feels nice regardless, and you’re glad for it when he ignores your demand to press his palm deep into the base of your spine. 
He slides from the small to the top, where he unclips your bra and presses both hands to your shoulders. “Pardon me.” 
“Not a gentleman. Didn’t even ask.” 
“What’s that?” he asks, working his thumb into a particularly sore muscle and drawing out a staggered sigh. “Oh,” —his joking falls away immediately— “that felt good?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe, turning your face to the side. 
“Want me to do it again?” he asks earnestly. 
He massages until you’re sure his wrists are sore and you’ve discovered a new kind of nap, your back thoroughly worked over, aching and relieved at once. He climbs off of you and doesn’t say a thing about how his own back probably hurts from so long bent over you, peeling out of his shirt and nudging you across the bed to make room for him. He scoops you onto his chest, and for the first time in ages your back doesn’t twinge. 
“Thanks so much, James,” you say, eyes already heavy, face buried in his neck. 
He kisses the tip of your nose. You’re welcome. 
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dreamofjoys · 2 months
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Cyborg Boothill sex headcannons
CW: fem reader, possessive boothill(hinted to be), unprotected sex, rough fucking, manhandling
A/N: Typed all of these without my glasses and I’m already snuggling in my blankets lol pardon the typos!! I nearly wrote him off as a yandere psycho who is obsessed with reader’s body omg 😭
Cyborg!Boothill who just loves you, his pretty little human doll. Although it’s suppose to be an impossible feat for a robot like him to develop emotional attachments towards someone, he had somehow managed to “love” you. How does he come to know of this emotion called love? It’s easy! If you want something / someone only to yourself….. that’s definitely love, right?
Sex with him is so so good. Since he is a cyborg, you thought that his manhood would be made of metal. But nope, it’s fully made of a soft material that looks and feel just like the real one! Boothill is determined to make you get drunk on his dick only. As a cyborg, he has unlimited strength and stamina. He loves to fold you into half and watch your pretty pussy display itself infront of him. He fucks his 7 inch manhood into you relentlessly, wanting to see how deep he can exactly go. How does he know his dick is 7 inch? He’s a cyborg that needs to attend regular maintenance, Of course he knows the exact measurement of his own body.
And did you realise? Each time you guys have sex, he just seems to feel bigger and thicker than before. It’s almost as if he changed the size of his manhood whenever he goes for his scheduled maintenance…… His arms also seems more muscular than before, and the 6 pack of abs that is displaying before you makes you wanna volunteer lick him all up.
“Do ya feel good here?” Boothill thrust up his hips, his newly replaced dick hits your g-spot with dead accuracy, making you see white in an instant. “I guess that’s a yes,” the man smirks when he sees your fucked-out mind, too sluggish and incoherent to say anything proper. All you could do is moan like a slut and beg your lover for more as he abuses your insides to his liking.
“Hm…… you take me in so well……. You can definitely take in a bigger size…….” It’s too bad that you weren’t coherent enough to process what he was saying. Otherwise, you would have seen his devilish face coming up with all sorts of ideas to make you go crazy during sex again.
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aesthet · 2 months
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Sweet Spot 𓍢ִ໋🀦
Alhaitham x fem!reader
contents: squirting, fingering, small story before smut, curious Alhaitham, mind fucked reader, bottom reader x top alhaitham
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Alhaitham wasn't interested in sex until he met you. Well it was a book to be exact, a 'How to' sex book that he came across in a bazaar held in the city of wisdom.
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"Book sale! Book sale! 40℅ off!" A man yelled promoting his books. The scribe isn't the type of person to go down town and be surrounded by people, but when he heard they sell books from all across Teyvat he just can't help but check it out.
While Kaveh wonders in the furniture section, the Scribe found himself between piles of books. He was looking around when he came across a book, quite a thick book but somehow light. The cover shows a hand, holding what seems to be a peach with the title 'Ladies' favorite secret',
"a cliche title" He mumbled when the merchant that's selling these books appeared behind him.
"Ah~ I see you're a cultured man, hm? " He wiggles his eyebrows, but after not seeing any reaction from the taller man he immediately cleared his throat and continued with his words "Pardon me friend-- are you interested in this book? "
But before Alhaitham could reply, the merchant continued his words "This book is written by a quite famous author amongst the ladies and she decided to help the men out here." The merchant then took a deep breath and held the book infront of Alhaitham's face "With this hand painted cover she presented a book to make your girlfriend happy! " The merchant smiled widely, and again after faced with an expressionless face, the merchant laughs awkwardly. "O-or partner, I don't judge!" the merchant said, thinking Alhaitham was offended by his words. But after not receiving any reaction he decided to change the topic.
"Say, friend? Care to take the book home with you? It's 40% off and your-"
"I'll take it" Alhaitham cut short
"What?" The merchant blinked a couple of times
"Need i repeat myself?" Alhaitham said, accidentally intimidating the poor merchant.
"O-oh! that wou;dn't be necessary. Uhm, Is there anything else? " The merchant fixes his wrinkled top, cold sweat trickling down his neck.
"No" He replied, though there was also another book that caught his eye. It was a Kama sutra, but he doesn't need it. For now that is, after all the bazaar will be going on for two weeks. Plenty of time
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A few days passed by and you noticed him being more bold, with his movements. Such as; helping you from behind when cutting a certain fruit, reaching for a book on the top shelf, getting a blanket from the closet and pressing himself against you while doing so, pulling you closer by the waist, and even taking a shower together more often. Teasing you, giving you bedroom eyes and a not so subtle hints.
So it's not surprising when you start to become more flustered around him and that made you overthink things. But those thoughts stopped when one day, you were cleaning the house and when you're dusting the bookshelves, you found a book that you've never seen before and after reading a little bit of the book. You can't help but wonder 'is this really him that bought this-'
"What are you doing? " The familiar voice cuts off your thoughts, making you flinch. "Alhaitham, you scared me" sighing after realizing it's just him. He walks over to you, towering you making you feel small. He looks down to see which page you were on "'How to find the sweet spot" he said, smirking slightly.
You looked down, realizing you're still holding the book and on page 69, coincidentally. So when you look up at him with a nervous smile along with an awkward chuckle only to be greeted by Alhaitham's eyes that are filled with something you've never seen from him. A wanting gaze.
"Want me to touch it for you, doll?" He leans in, kissing you. And after you agreed. He immediately puts you in a position, making your back lean against his broad chest as he holds your legs open as he bury his skilled digits in your cunt, curling it upwards and deep hitting your sweet spot. "Ah! Alhaitham--" you whined when his fingers dug deep into you, feeling it in your abdomen and a you writhed around feeling sensitive.
He hummed "Is this it? the sweet spot?" he mumbled to himself, learning your insides and taking notes of what makes you whine and shake like a leaf. "H-hah~ Alh-Haitham-" You moaned holding his wrist, feeling something build up in your abdomen. At this point you're drunk on his fingers, buried really deep in you and reaching spots that you can't reach with your own fingers. And after realizing the feeling that is in your abdomen is similar to the feeling you feel when you're about to pee. You panicked and try pushing his fingers away, only to have your wrist held by his other hand "W-wait, 'haitham! I-" he shushed you, his face beside your ear looking at the way his fingers pump in and out of your tight cunt.
He lets out a pleased, leaning in to your ear and nibbled on your ear "It's okay, no need to hold it in. Just let it out" You shake your head, scared at what's a bout to happen. Creaming around his two fingers, you begin to feel that you can't hold it in anymore and you told him "I-i can't it's too much!--angh~" he fondled your nipple through your shirt with the hand he used to grip your hand earlier. He shushes your whines with a kiss, swallowing every noise that comes out of your mouth.
With whines and moans filling up the room, you finally did what he said and finally let go that feeling building up in your abdomen. And when you did it felt like you blacked out for a few seconds, exhaling and letting out a relieved moan. You didn't realize you've squirted, and slouched against his chest. Alhaitham saw the big gush that sprayed from your pretty cunt, he was surprised and amazed that his doll can do such a thing!. That left you shaking and a whimpering, sweaty mess. Alhaitham then sat up and looked at your face again, then something inside him clicked. So without missing a beat he pushed two fingers in and began to massage your sweet walls
"A-hah! A-wait! I'm still sensi-tive! " You whine, writhing against the sheets and trying to push away his hand. But he only pushed away your hand and pressing down on your stomach. That resulted with a loud moan being ripped away from you. Despite your efforts of trying to push him away, you can't help but enjoy it and soon you became a mumbling mess., cumming again not long after.
He looked down to see your flushed face, too drunk on the feeling of his fingers. He tuts at your adorable face, in the midst of your heavy panting he pulled out his fingers and licking his fingers clean. "I didn't know you can be so messy" he said, easily changing your position.
"Wait, what are you doing?" you asked him and he replied with a chuckle "Oh? so you thought i was done with you?" he asked you with a smug smirk. That alone tells you that you're going to be here for awhile.
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happilyhertale · 5 days
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Fire and blood - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader
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Author’s note: Before I got into my usual summary, this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and Daemon and being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it. Choosing our own characters and how to play the story.
Please find the masterlist of everyone's fics here.
English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:
Summary: You haven't been married to your husband Daemon Targaryen for very long - but you've learnt to enjoy your marriage to the Rogue Prince. But unlike normality, you haven't sought out Daemon for a few affectionate visits throughout the day, and that makes him suspicious…
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader
Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Period smut; fingering (f in v), p in v sex - implied
Word count: 2.2 k
Other stories of mine
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Daemon opens the door, but only darkness reveals itself to him. He raises his eyebrows slightly, but steps into your shared chambers. He is looking for his wife, who has been by his side for several moons now.
During this time, he has already become accustomed to you seeking him out throughout the day, sometimes just to get a little peck and sometimes because you want to tell him something - but today you have not sought him out.
His heavy footsteps sound in your chambers as he walks further inside.
"Are you hiding from me, woman?" he murmurs.
He walks over to a small table with fruit and sweet dishes on it. He takes a bunch of grapes between his fingers before letting them disappear into his mouth.
"Has another moon gone by?" he asks into the room and turns to your bed, where he recognises the outline of a figure under the covers. A slight grin plays around his lips before he walks towards the bed.
But as he gets closer, he picks up an unusual scent.
"What's that smell?" he asks.
And suddenly your voice rings out, "It's oak bark tea... My abdomen is a cramp," you mumble from under the covers.
He's still smiling and comes closer to the bed.
"What have we got here? I wonder what trouble could be brewing under here," he says, reaching lightly for the blanket.
"No... Go away," you say quietly and try to hold the blanket tight.
But Daemon pulls the blanket down further and kneels on the bed with one knee.
"Ah... there you are... what a view," he says sarcastically as the blanket reveals your face. Your hair lies dishevelled on the pillow, your face a little sleepily puffy as your annoyed gaze meets his. "Yes....my beautiful wife," he says and smiles. He pulls the blanket down further and a "Go away," sounds from you again.
He smiles at your words, "Why would I do that when I have such a sight in front of me?" he says, a hint of sarcasm still in his voice again.
You sigh and try to turn away, but you feel Daemon kneel down further on the bed and his hand grips you gently.
"Ah, ah, ah," he says and lies down next to you, his arm wrapped around your middle.
His warm breath brushes the back of your neck as he presses his face into yours, "What's wrong," he whispers.
You sigh again and already feel his large, surprisingly warm hand on your abdomen... a warm touch of your dragon.
"I'm bleeding..." you say almost inaudibly, but Daemon hears your words and smiles slightly. He knows how you feel during your period. You're vulnerable and sleepy. The cramps force you to lie down and only warmth and strange teas from the maesters give you some relief... well, and other things.
But you're his wife and according to him, you should always feel carefree - but he can't refrain from teasing you a little.
"Pardon?" he whispers, smiling slightly, while you sigh lightly again.
"I'm bleeding..." you repeat your words and mumble into your pillow.
"Love..." he whispers again.
You close your eyes and feel this inner tension that tickles your fingertips.
"I'm on my period," you say a little louder into the pillow.
"Love... Sorry, I don't understand," Daemon replies and his lips graze your neck.
His behaviour makes you seethe, why can't he leave you alone?
"Daemon! Seven hells! I'm on my period! I'm in pain and I'm bleeding!", you call out and raise your head slightly.
He chuckles, "It's fine... no need to shout like that..."
You shake your head slightly, wanting to push his arm away, but he has a firm grip on you. His hand slides slowly downwards, his fingers make light, circular movements and you stiffen slightly.
"Daemon, what are you doing," you suddenly whisper.
"I want you to feel good, love... It'll help you relax..." he murmurs into your ear, nibbling lightly.
You gasp and hold his hand back, "Daemon... there's blood... a lot... it's the first day..." you say hesitantly.
He continues to nibble on your earlobe, his fingers sliding along your thigh, not in the least impressed by your words.
"You know there's nothing to be ashamed of. A woman's body is a natural, beautiful thing.... It's beautiful because it's you," he kisses your cheek and lets his nose glide gently along it. His hand strokes along your thigh and you feel a slight throbbing between your thighs alongside the numbing pain in your abdomen.
"Do you want me to take care of you?" he whispers, kissing the soft skin behind your ear.
You bite your lip lightly, but you shake your head slightly.
"Daemon... There really is a lot of blood..." you repeat your words quietly.
He chuckles softly again, another kiss landing on your neck, "Love... a true warrior isn't afraid of a little blood..." he murmurs.
His hand slides further, "Just relax..." he whispers and you try. Slowly, you close your eyes and try to concentrate on his touch as a heavy breath leaves your lips.
Gently, he kisses your neck and shoulder as he holds you close."It's nothing to be ashamed of either. Especially not my wife. It's natural," he whispers in your ear.
His fingers pull your nightgown up, very slowly. His fingers leave a fiery trail on your thigh and you try to ignore the dull ache that runs through your abdomen.
You can't suppress it, your hips begin to move in slight circular motions as his fingers glide through your pubic hair, caressing you. You gasp as you can already feel his arousal from behind as he presses himself lightly against you.
His fingers reach their destination, slowly running along your folds, and you gasp again – your legs spread slightly.
"That's it... I'll take care of you..." he whispers in your ear and you nod slightly.
The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers find your pearl and apply light pressure. Your legs spread wider and a smile graces his lips.
"Daemon..." you gasp.
"I know..." he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe again as his fingers rub gently over your clit.
"Your body is natural and beautiful. Even in all its bloody glory," he whispers and you nod, your breathing quickening.
He kisses you on the cheek again as his fingers tease over your glistening entrance, gently spreading your folds.
You feel the familiar stretch as his fingers slide inside you. But not all the way in, he teases you a little and you exhale heavily, your hips moving towards his fingers, longing for his touch. And then he fulfils your craving – his fingers stretch your walls, trying to find a good angle, pushing deeper. He revels in the slickness that coats his fingers, the evidence of your arousal mingling with the blood that flows.
"Feel how wet you are for me," he whispers teasingly, his smile pressing against the back of your neck.
"Daemon!" you gasp, but also a small moan leaves your lips.
He chuckles briefly, but your concentration is once again fully on his movements as his fingers penetrate deeper.
"Gods..." you gasp and he grins. Slowly, but firmly, his fingers push forward. He can feel your walls clench, longing for release.
"You know I love all the sounds you make, but I love your moans the most. I can feel your walls tighten around my fingers as if your body wants to hold me inside you while I make you tremble..." he whispers in your ear.
You moan again as his thumb grazes your pearl. He continues his expert ministrations, he is determined to make you forget the discomfort, to lose yourself in a wave of pleasure that only he can provide.
His fingers curl inside you, beckoning you as his thumb presses against your clit again.  You press your arse against his hardness and he moans into your neck. As he feels your hips moving towards his fingers, urging for more, he complies, increasing the intensity of his movements. He curls his fingers, angling them to hit that sweet spot within you, knowing exactly how to drive you wild with desire.
"Moan for me…" he commands, his voice laced with dominance, "Let me hear your pleasure, let it echo through these chambers."
And you obey as his fingers thrust deeper. He bites into your neck as his fingers tease your walls. His fingers continue their exploration, delving deeper inside you, seeking out the spots that make you writhe with pleasure. He maintains a steady rhythm, his touch skilled and attentive to your body's responses.
Smacking noises echo in your chambers as his fingers pump in and out faster. His fingers sliding in and out of your wetness with ease. With each thrust of his fingers, he can feel the slickness and warmth of your arousal, heightening his own desire.
He starts to apply more pressure and lets a third finger slide in. He knows what you like and he gives it to you the way you need it. He stretches your walls while they continue to clench around his fingers. Daemon's eyes gleam with a mixture of desire and possessiveness as he feels your response to his touch. He revels in the power he holds over your pleasure, his fingers moving with a practiced precision.
"Oh, my sweet wife," he murmurs, the words laced with a mixture of possessiveness and anticipation. "You are so responsive, so eager for my touch."
His body presses against yours, his hard length grinding against your backside as he continues to pleasure you with his fingers. His lips find your ear, his breath hot against your skin. Your fear of smearing him with your blood is forgotten, you need more.
"Daemon... Daemon," you whimper again and again, your arm reaching back, to the back of his head. Your fingers reach into his silky hair and he grunts. As he continues to drive you towards the peak of pleasure, Daemon's own desire grows, his need for release becoming undeniable. But at this moment, he's focused solely on your pleasure, on taking you to the edge and beyond, on helping you forget your discomfort.
"Yes... my love... Come on, come on my fingers, milk them like you always milk my cock when I fuck that delicious cunt," he growls into your neck.
And that pushes you over the edge. You cry out, your walls tightening around his fingers and Daemon grunts out.
You whimper, your hand gripping his hair tighter as he kisses your neck. Your eyes are closed, your breathing rapid as he pulls his fingers out when your walls stop clenching. A pleasant warmth flows through your abdomen, soothing away the pain more effectively than every maester's tea could.
As you catch your breath, you glance slightly over your shoulder and look at Daemon. He chuckles as he looks at his fingers, they're covered in blood.
"This is a sight I couldn't have imagined at the beginning of the day..", he kisses your neck again, "But I'm going to enjoy it“, he whispers into your ear.
"Daemon, no!" you say with wide eyes.
He just grins as you avert your eyes and blush. You hear the smacking sound as he licks his fingers.
But now you have to laugh as you stare at him again – his eyes are closed and he seems to be enjoying it.
"You're impossible..." you say softly as he still licks his fingers.
"Daemon, stop it!" you say and giggle, but he just grins and pulls you closer to him again.
"Delicious," he murmurs.
He starts stroking and caressing your belly again.
His breathing slows down as he holds you close. The sounds and smell of you, your little body in his embrace, it's almost more than he can bear at this moment.
He gently grabs your chin, as if he were holding something fragile and precious, and gently pulls your head upwards. When you return his gaze, it is gentle and tender.
"And you are my wife. You may feel sick, you may bleed, sometimes I may even be the cause of your anger. But that's all part of your body's natural rhythm. So please, my sweet girl, never hide from the pain, never keep your misery a secret. Otherwise, I promise you, it will cause me more grief than your blood..." he says gently. These moments with him are rare, but you savour them – your lovely husband. You lean towards him and let your lips slide onto his. He growls slightly and you feel his hand on your arse. You giggle slightly and feel his smile on your lips.
But the grip on your arse tightens and he pulls you towards him, positioning you perfectly against his crotch. He still can't hide his excitement and you gasp slightly. Your lips are still dancing around each other, you can feel the coppery taste on his tongue as he starts to undo his trousers. He growls again as his hand spreads your cheeks slightly and presses his hardness between your thighs from behind. You whimper as his cock slides along your folds.
"Let's see if we can give you a little more relief, shall we?" he growls against your lips and you moan as the tip of his cock presses against your slick entrance.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
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Village: knight!price x princess!reader
A little longer than intended but hope you guys enjoy
"Pardon?"
“I want to go to the village and you’ll be taking me there today.”
Sir John Price blinked owlishly at you. You rarely ever went to the village unless it was for a procession or to speak on behalf of the Queen, and the fact that you asked him instead of taking off on your own caught him off guard as well.
Especially because you met him in the stables wearing a cloak.
He glanced down at the wicker basket with a blanket in your hands before he met your expectant eyes and he sucked in his lips.
"If that's what you wish." He pulled your horse out of the stable and then his.
"It is." You flipped your hood over your head and held out the basket for him to take. "Make sure to tie this securely."
Before long Price walked close behind you as you led the way towards the market. He raised an eyebrow, both because he didn’t understand what you were doing but also because it seemed you weren’t trying to stand out.
“Is there a reason why we’re going to the market, your highness?” He wondered and you gestured for him to keep his voice down. “And why you’re acting inconspicuous?”
“You’ll see.” You told him with a small smile. “And I don’t want much attention today.”
Price hummed and couldn’t help but notice that some of the villagers stared at you both with confusion before recognition spread across their faces, their voices going hushed as they stared at you.
“I doubt you can escape the eyes of your people, your highness.” He mumbled and you frown.
“It’s because of you.” You huffed and he raised an eyebrow. “You stand out, everyone knows you, and knows that I’m around where you are.”
“You asked me to escort you.”
“Because you would’ve made a bigger scene trying to catch up to me.”
You were right and he knew that. Though he found it almost comical that you thought everyone was looking at him rather than you, especially when a few villagers stopped what they were doing to stare.
Price took it upon himself, however, to make sure that none of them interrupted you with a polite nod and smile towards them.
When you made it to the market, you immediately began to peruse the stalls. Fresh produce and other items were laid out in front of you as you began to look for the best out of them.
“I thought the servants had recently bought food for the castle.” Price wondered as you studied the fruit in front of you.
“I wanted something fresher and I was bored.” You shrugged and he scoffed.
He watched you pick out the fruits you wanted and deny the peasant who said you didn’t have to pay. He watched the joy spread across his face when you gave him extra coins for the food before you walked to the next stall with the basket in the crook of your arm.
Price slipped it off your arm and carried it without a second thought. He pointedly stared at the vegetables on the stall as your eyes widened..
“You never answered my question.” He grunted to change the subject. “Why are we here?”
“It’s a surprise. Learn to have a little fun, Sir John.” You chided him when his face fell into a scowl.
“A surprise from you could mean anything, good or bad.”
“Would I ever surprise you with something bad?”
Price gave you a look and the corners of your lips twitched upward. He let out a sigh when you chuckled and prepared for the worst as he continued to follow you.
“It’s a good surprise, you’ll like it.” You assured him.
“I’ll believe you when you tell me.” He grumbled and you rolled your eyes.
“Have you ever met a knight so stubborn?” You joked with a peasant who couldn’t hold in her amusement which made Price scowl even more.
“No, your highness, but that’s what makes him the best.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Price felt his cheeks warm and he clutched the basket a little tighter. He quickly shooed you away from the stall before he embarrassed himself further.
He watched you navigate the market and couldn’t help but think about what you had said the night before the king had been sent away.
Despite his past reservations about you, he knew how the village and your people felt about you. They loved you, adored you, and though they spoke about your lack of engagements or about you not having produced an heir yet, you were still in their good graces. And it was especially true as you treated them kindly and paid them extra for the food you bought from them today.
You thought you were worthless, a failure because of those around you. Because of him…
It plagued his mind and weighed heavy in his stomach. He didn’t like knowing that he had made you feel that way, that he had hurt you.
He hoped you still didn’t think that way about yourself now.
“Your highness,” he began and you hummed for him to continue as the two of you walked back to the horses. “Is what you said that night true?”
You paused and your face fell. You averted your eyes from him as you nervously threaded your fingers together in front of you.
“I had hoped you’d forgotten about that.” You licked your lips. “But…yes. It think about it too often, I fear.”
“I never realized the lords and princes made you feel that way.” A seed of anger bubbled in his stomach.
“How could you? It doesn’t concern you, do I don’t blame you for that.”
“It concerns me because ‘I’ve done the same.”
Your eyes widened and you stared at him with surprise while he found it hard to look at you.
Shame settled within him but he forced himself to push past it. He couldn’t allow it to stop him from making things right and though he was stubborn he could admit when he was wrong or when he had wronged someone.
“I don’t think lowly of you, your highness.” He began softly as he stared deep into your eyes. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been kind to you and it’s hurt you in a way that I wish I could take back. I won’t ask you to forgive me but I can’t allow you to believe that I would think you a failure.”
You couldn’t help the absolute shock on your face as you slowly became more and more flustered as you stared at each other.
He found himself getting flustered as well the longer you stared at him. It was hard being underneath your gaze and when you looked away it was as if he simultaneously could and couldn’t breathe.
“I-I’m sorry your words caught me off guard.” You placed your hands over your heart and let out a nervous chuckle.
“It’s the truth, your highness.” Price stated firmly and you nodded.
“I know.”
He felt a little relieved but still the guilt stayed inside him. He knew it would be a little while before he finally found the courage to let it go.
The silence between the both of you was thick and awkward but you quickly tried to defuse it with a smile that made him nervously suck in his lips.
“You’re very sincere for a knight.” You pointed out and he scoffed.
“I follow a code.” He said and you raised an amused eyebrow as you snorted.
“Do you now? What does it say about being ornery all the time.”
“Unfortunately I can’t change that about myself.. I can hardly lessen it as it is.”
You giggled and he couldn’t help but chuckle as well. You began to walk towards the horses again and he walked beside you.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Who else would entertain me with banter?”
“Many of the lords and princes of you ask them to.”
You groaned softly and rolled your eyes in a playful manner while you absentmindedly waved the thought away.
“Dreadful isn’t it?” You said and he smiled. “I could tell them to wear a bucket on their head and they would.”
He wasn’t going to deny any of that to you. He had seen so many lords and princes make fools of themselves to get your attention and to please you.
Price has made a fool of himself because of you as well.
“I’m glad I can entertain you, your highness.” Price teased as you made it to the horses.
He tied the basket to the saddle and prepared to help you onto your horse only to be met with you giving him an inquisitive look that made him narrow his eyes.
“Would you wear a bucket on your head if I asked?” You wondered and he puffed out a laugh.
“And subject myself to a life of torment?” He avoided looking at as he checked your saddle.
“But would you?”
Price cleared his throat and gestured to the basket as he gave you an expectant look this time.
“Are you going to tell me what the surprise is or do I have to guess?” He changed the subject and hoped you would as well, which you did.
“It’s a picnic.” You smiled proudly and allowed him to help you onto your horse, his hand tingling from your warmth. “One you will be join game on not only as my protector but as my friend. Call it a peace offering.”
Price wouldn’t deny that the idea made him feel lighter and when he thought about it he couldn’t help but feel his heart race just a little faster.
But he knew how improper it would be if he joined you in a way that was any less than him protecting you, how it might seriously hurt your reputation and how it might cost him more than his title.
“If someone sees…” he began but you shook your head.
“That’s why we’ll be dinning in the forest.” You explained and though it didn’t ease his worries, he knew you were already set on the idea.
Stubborn.
“Now, we must get going or we’ll miss lunch.”
“As you wish, your highness.”
A/n: the answer is he would
Tags: @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze @waiting-so-long @rmikaelson01 @panikk-attackkk @sofasoap
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lovystar · 7 months
Text
❝ A PRINCESS’ WILL ❞ ; BADA LEE
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synopsis──after an assassination attempt, the queen invites the very best fighters from across the land to compete for the great honor of protecting you, the princess.
content──bada lee x unnamed fem!oc (reader). princess!reader, soldier under disguise!bada. currently unedited, pls be nice lol. fictional combination of medieval european and korea’s joseon dynasty aspects bc im not too concerned about making it realistic. incorrect pronouns (when not in bada’s pov). this world is matrilineal bc I said so. bada's a flirt. eventual smut w/ switch!bada.
word count ── approx. 5.4k
───
YOUR MOTHER’S STRONG HOLD—on the country, on the castle, on her children, and on you in particular as the oldest—was suffocating. You were destined to rule over millions, and your mother would not let you forget it. You had to be strong, caring for your people but unforgiving to others. That’s how she ruled. She’d shape you to be the same queen she was, and she’ll drill it into your head herself if she needs to.
Your pride would never allow you to say this to her face, but you supposed that she did a good enough job. The people loved her: she kept them safe and fed, gave them more than enough to start caring beyond their necessities and seek self-actualization, to flourish in the arts. She wasn’t very popular among foreign lands, and you might even go on to say that they feared her. She was often fair when wronged, but very rarely did she ever pardon those wrongs. She has never, in the time you've been alive.
Once, when you were very little and you were still taking lessons with some children of noble descent, you heard them repeat a saying they’d learn from their parents:
“Loving are her eyes, beauty bestowed, but fear the night the Hawk catches you lurking near her nest, lest you desire your entrails be fed to the eyas nights on end.” 
They spoke of their Queen with reverence and adoration.
Her way of ruling worked well for many years; you got to live a life of peace and prosperity the entirety of your childhood. Not many other kingdoms can say the same.
On top of your queenly history lessons and politics and mathematics and the sciences, she wanted you to be good at protecting yourself. While she has acquired the most apt Royal Guard, a future queen must still be able to hold her own. She ordered only the best archers and swords to teach you, and you were…decent, at it. The years of practice successfully stuck some things into you: how to hold a sword and a bow and arrow, which body parts to target, how to be light in your feet (this one was specifically useful whenever you wanted to leave the royal palace).
In your defense, your natural sensibilities were drawn to something else entirely. You’d always say reading was a more sensible passage of time. You would spend hours upon hours lounging in one of the library nooks or on a blanket in the palace gardens, surrounded by the pastel of the flowers.
You were in that garden when the assassin took a knife to your throat.
You lived, but it scared your mother terribly. Surprising—since you’d never known her to be a person who had any fears. In your mind, it could only mean two things. One, she loved you to some extent—she might just have a weird way of expressing it. Two, someone was threatening her bloodline and consequently, perhaps more importantly, someone was threatening her throne.
And she will not let that happen in her lifetime.
───
It has been two weeks since your throat was sliced open. Two weeks since the doctor instructed you to minimize strenuous activity and if you could, stay in bed as to not open the stitches.
‘You don’t know how lucky you are,’ the doctor has told you every day after your daily checkup. You know this, of course. Had the knife gone any deeper and had your court ladies not been around the corner, you’d be dead. It was, however, a hilarious thought that someone would bring a blunt knife to an assassination.
Your mother didn’t think it was funny. But in your delicate state, the anger in her eyes had never been funnier, and it pained your throat whenever you’d attempt to laugh.
“Will you stop it? The doctor spent hours on those. What will we do if they scar?” You rolled your eyes in response and she scoffed. “Glad to see you’re as genteel as ever, it’d be a shame if you had lost that lively nature of yours.” It sounded sarcastic, but she meant it. She did not want you to be passive. In her mind, that would only led to you becoming spineless and spineless Queen can't rule. You ignored her words, instead gesturing for one of the maids to bring you a cup of water.
“I’ve arranged for the competition to take place tomorrow, do you think you’ll be up for it?”
You furrowed your brows, “Competition?” Your voice came out roughly. The stitches began to itch.
Your mother groaned, “Please refrain from speaking, but yes, competition, have you not been listening to me? The best soldiers and eligible men have been traveling from across the nation for some time now. The men will fight and we shall see who is best equipped to protect the Crown Princess.”
“Must—” you coughed, “must we make them fight? Can’t we just pick one?”
“Just pick one?” She looked into your eyes incredulously, “You must have hit your head and injured your intelligences if you think I’d let just any one person be in charge of you. You must have the best.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Very well.” She nodded once, “The doctor has cleared you to attend so rest, you will be awakened bright and early tomorrow!”
She walked out of the room and left you to your devices. You sighed. You allowed your court ladies to help you out of your daily garments, clean your wound, place the ointment and replace the bandage.
You repeated the process in the morning, placing a necklace over the bandage, ensuring it is not too tight but stays in place. You prepared for the days’ events, and after a couple of restrained breaths, you walked out of the room with your court ladies in toe.
───
Bada Lee spent her childhood just outside the place. Her family had raised generations of soldiers, many of which served in the Royal Guard. That was, until her father was dismissed and demoted to being a simple guard in the rural countryside. He had dedicated his entire life to the Queen and it was a shock to everyone when he’d been told of his dismissal. Up to his last breath, he’d grow angry whenever she’d asked him why. Why did we leave? How could a loving Queen throw us away as if we were nothing? She’d been upheaved from the City, and littered some place where she’d have to fight if she wanted anything to come from her life. Well, fight harder than she’d have to in the City.
Still, she knew that it didn’t matter where she was. Whether in the Capital City or the countryside, external expectations would have her be a wife and a mother soon after. She watched her mother suffer under these conditions, watched her neighbors, and the change in her friends’ nature as they came of age and were married off. They were all unhappy.
She’d be damned if she was destined to a miserable marriage. But above all, she’d be damned if she dies a nobody. Just another woman, forgotten by history.
Nope. That’s not her.
Growing up, she loved watching her father and brother train. She’d try to join, but her father would quickly push her away. She would try day after day, but it couldn’t be helped. So she turned to making her own sword out of a fallen tree branch. She’d copy their movements, the placement of their feet and how the air would rest in their lungs and rush out with the lunge of the sword—well, the lunge of the stick for her. Her brother agreed to train with her, but in his teenage years, he grew resentful of her talent. He decided to begin training a different skill, archery, but soon enough, he realized that this too came naturally for her. Over the years he turned to different combat skills, only for Bada to overpower him again and again. One day, he stopped helping her at all.
It was a cold winter when the sickness spread across the countryside. It was the sickness that took her father and it was the sickness that took her brother. The town had to develop a new burial site due to the amount of people that died at the beginning of the season. Death didn't relent there; people continued dying and dying until that site was full with bodies.
By the time her family succumbed to their sickness, there was nowhere to put them. For days on end, her only company was their cold bodies. She had placed them in a separate room, putting as much distance as she could. As the winter grew colder and she stared at the makeshift tomb’s door, she realized she depended entirely on them. As it stood, she was nothing, less than nothing, by herself. It was a matter of time before someone hunted her down, a young woman without any male relatives left and tried to turn her into a sellable thing.
She’d be damned.
In a feat of fear and anger, she grabbed her brother’s clothes and changed into them and styled her hair as he would. She looked into the small mirror, surprised to see that her crazy plan might just work.
But she needed to make people think it was her that died.
The day the town hall proposed a mass burial, she changed her brother’s clothes into her own and loosened his hair from the top knot it was in. She shaved his beard, feeling disgusted at the act and with herself for feeling the need to do this. She pushed through: this was about her survival. She reported the bodies, and snuck into the site later that night. Sure, she would be shamelessly taking her brother’s identity from this day forward, but that did not mean she would bury her brother in anything other than his clothes. She did not want that karma. Plus she could afford to lose one of the five hanboks.
The next day, she watched anxiously as they buried the mass of bodies.
She should’ve felt terrible about her relief once they were under the soil, and she did, she would miss them. At some point during the week she lived with their corpses, she forgave them for any bad they did to her. She could only think of the good things now, her father’s jjigae and her brother’s light banter.
She did feel bad, but at the same time, a weight had been lifted. She wouldn’t need to get married now, she could pursue something, she could walk around at night without a chaperone and she could talk to people without worrying about being seen as vulgar.
Yes, under her disguise, she was finally free.
───
Lee Bada had been Lee Hae for a year by the time the Queen requested all eligible soldiers to report to the Capital City. Her commanding officer recommended her to go as one of the top soldiers under his command. She has managed to climb her way through the ranks, demonstrating her strength wherever she went.
Nobody knew the Mother of the Nation had called them to the palace, but if only the strongest were allowed to go, then Bada was going to make sure she was at top.
It was strange being back in the Capital City and even weirder to see the inside of the palace when all she’d known before was its gates.
Bada stood in line with the rest of the soldiers in the palace’s courtyard, towering over some of them. Her back maintained straight, her head held high, as the Crown Princess approached the Queen. She bowed to the queen and sat down next to her. Bada controlled her facial expressions, but her feelings couldn’t be helped. The Crown Princess had made the soldiers wait under the sun, and now she had the audacity to look bored. Despite being so far away, she could see the way you whispered into one of your court ladies’ ears and how they covered their mouth. The laughter showed in their eyes though. In contrast, your attempt to cover your giggle was lazy, your hand falling from the front of your mouth before you could control your expression once more. Bada wanted to scoff. Had you no decency? Before Bada’s bitterness could grow further, the Queen began speaking.
“Welcome, loyal soldiers and citizens. I have invited you here today to compete for the highest honor of joining the Royal Guard and protecting your Crown Princess.” Her open palm gestured to her side, where the Princess sat gracefully. “It is a title that comes with great responsibility, and requires skill, power and loyalty. It would please me for each of you to partake and serve your country in the process. If you wish to stay, please take a step forward.”
Each of the four hundred soldiers took a step, the sound booming through the courtyard. Bada did not look to see if any citizens had stepped forward.
“I am so glad! The competition consists of a six stages with different ‘games.’ You must accumulate enough points in each stage to successfully move up to the next one. Today, we shall begin the first stage. You must ride out into the woods and bring back a rabbit that has been trapped and hidden. There are only two hundred rabbits.” the Queen paused and with a clap of her hands, “Go!”
───
“I don’t get the point of this game,” You stated without looking up from your book. “They’ve been out there for hours and no one is back yet.”
“Patience, daughter,” the Queen responded, “There must be a basis to being a good protector, is there not? Wouldn’t you say that enduring long distance and persevering in the woods is a good baseline?”
“You are so creative, Mother,” you sighed into your book, “You can come up with such fantastical scenarios.”
“So you would rather have someone who doesn’t know how to endure long distances riding and persevere in the woods?”
You didn’t respond.
The first to arrive was a seasoned soldier. He had been part of the Royal Guard for more than a decade, and was known for his hunting skills. The second person caught your mother’s attention. One tall and broad-shouldered man rushed through the Palace gates with 4 rabbits hanging from his horse with a robe. He dismounted, grabbing the robe, throwing it on the ground and bowing before the Queen.
“Seowol from the Southern coast, your Royal Highness.”
“Seowol?” Your mother questioned, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do believe you were only supposed to take one rabbit.”
“I wanted to secure a strong position, your Highness.” He remained in a bowed position, looking down, his arms stiff along his body.
“Certainly! Please follow eunuch Jinho to the bathroom and a change of clothes. You’ll be called when everyone has arrived.” He looked up and nodded, and quickly did as instructed.
The court ladies swooned over the man once he’d walked away, but you hardly moved.
“Did you see the way he looked at you? Oh!” the young lady fanned her hand. You chuckled, amused by the younger girl’s reaction.
“The way he got off his horse and showed the rabbits, he was so cool!”
“And handsome! Don’t forget handsome!”
You rolled your eyes at that one, “He wasn’t even that handsome.”
“So you do think he was handsome!” They all laughed, having caught something in your words.
“Listen to me, I said he was not all that handsome.” You repeated, “I’ve seen better.”
They gushed, trying to get you to elaborate, but your mother was beginning to look at you sideways. You thought it was better to stop then. With the light hearted fun you were having with your ladies, you forgot all about the dull ache of your throat. The reason you were having this ridiculous competition in the first place. The truth was there was something about Seowol that disgusted you. You couldn’t quite place it, it could be the abruptness in his movements and the way he threw the rabbits on the ground, or perhaps the coldness behind his eyes. A mindless cruelty to innocent beings.
Returner after returner, it was the same and they started blending into each other. They’d rush through the gates, and present the robed rabbit in front of the Queen before they bowed. They announced their name loudly, as if shouting would make the Queen remember them better. The cook would take the rabbit and disappear to the kitchens.
That was, until number 73th entered the yard. The sun was beginning to set, leaving the sky in a canvas of lovely purples and pinks. You didn’t notice him at first, but soon your ladies began to whisper. This particular soldier entered calmly, and only one hand on the horse’s bridle. A small ball of white highlighted by the black of his uniform. As he got closer, you saw that the white speck of fluff was the rabbit. He cradled it on his left arm, making sure it didn’t jump or fall. Once he’d reach the stage, he dismounted carefully. You noticed his height, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out how his shoulders managed to look both broad and slender at the same time. He came closer, bowing deeply before your mother and to your surprise, he began to approach you.
He was quickly stopped by your mother’s guards blocking his path.
“Please, your Royal Highness, let him approach,” You surprised yourself. For the past two weeks, you were scared you were growing paranoid of strangers and people in general. The fear was earned to some extent, you had just been attacked, but you were even more afraid that you’d grow to be scared of everyone, everything, and never come out of your bedroom ever again. Though, now, as you look over at your mother to let the stranger approach you, it seemed this fear wasn’t going to be an issue after all. You were going to be okay. In a lower voice this time, “Please, Mother.”
She rolled her eyes discreetly, waving her hand. “Let him through.”
The guards retracted. The man moved closer to you, and he bowed. You noticed the smoothness of his jaw, the curve of his lips and the pretty way his lashes decorated his pretty brown eyes. He was pretty. So much so you held your breath when his eyes finally met yours.
“My Princess.” He smiled, “For you.”
Oh.
Someone behind you gasped, and you were glad for the noise because that way he might not be able to hear the beating of your heart.
“May I?”
You nodded, despite not knowing what you had agreed to. The man walked even closer to you, and you unconsciously leaned forward. He placed the bunny in your hands, and you searched for his lingering fingers through the white fluff. He retrieved far too soon. You wanted to touch him for some reason. You wanted him to get close again and you wanted him to call you, once again, his prin—
“And what might your name be?” Your mother was not amused.
“Soldier Lee Hae, your Royal Highness.” He addressed his queen but his eyes never left yours.
“Lee, huh? You do know that was your dinner, correct? You won’t have dinner?” Your head snapped to your mother. She could not possibly!
“As long as my Princess is content, my stomach shall never be empty.”
Your head snapped back at him, a slightly ajar mouth. The corners of your mouth lifted slightly, but a sharp pain in your neck scared any adoring feelings away. The stitches tugged on your skin, and you brought your hand to your neck.
“Very well, no dinner. You may sit down, Soldier Lee Hae.”
───
Well, that was fucking stupid. Bada groaned, grabbing her stomach. She just had to give that damned rabbit to the Crown Princess, didn’t she? Even now, hours after dinner and well into their resting time, Bada could not decipher why she chose to spare the rabbit.
You had just looked so beautiful, and before she knew it, she was right in front of you. And as she remembers the look on your face when she gave you the bunny, your parted lips and your widening eyes as you looked up at her, Bada realized she only regretted her choice slightly.
There was no denying your beauty. Everyone knew that while you might be the Crown, you were also the prettiest bird in the eyes of the people.
But Bada couldn’t get distracted. She came here with a purpose. She was going to join the Royal Guard and bring back honor to her family. You might have been eye candy, but it didn’t change the fact that you represented what Bada lost, what she never realistically had a chance at.
It killed her. It killed her that they had a woman King and yet every other woman was still viewed as inferior. Did the only women that mattered lived in the palace? You got to be trained, you got to study the books—why couldn’t they? Why was it that she will need to pretend to be a boy for the rest of her life to feel free?
Could it be helped? Would you be different from your mother?
Her mind turned to her selfish thoughts. Perhaps she could use today’s events to her advantage. She could grow closer to you, on purpose this time, and perhaps that’d help her on the long run. She’d earn her position, of course; that was nonnegotiable.
The hunger grew furiously as she got lost in her thoughts. She couldn’t take it any longer. She got up, quickly wrapping the tight cloth over her chest. She hid a small knife on the inside of her left wrist, a security measure, though she was unlikely to need it. She grabbed something to cover herself with and left the small room she’d been provided with.
She was lucky to finish stage 1 where she did. When the last of the 197 soldiers that would pass on to the next stage arrived, they were well into dinner. The Queen had stated that for the remaining stages of the competition, only the top half scorers would receive a sole bedroom. Everyone else will sleep in the Great Hall. She reasoned it was to keep up the morale and ramp up ambition. It certainly did motivate Bada though. She did not wish to sleep uncomfortably among the stinky men. It was so weird, Bada knew they showered and mere hours later, a musk would develop around them.
She walked towards the kitchens as quietly as she could. Once there, she rummaged through the shelves, searching for something that was not a raw vegetable.
“Please, please, please…” She murmured to herself, and in her desperation, she did not hear the footsteps coming from the side entrance.
“Who is there?” A voice resounded. Bada froze, quickly kneeling down and hidden under the shelf. Fuck! “As Crown Princess, I command you to reveal yourself!”
The Princess? What was she doing up this late?
Bada had hoped that it was a younger staff member also searching for food (someone she could try her charm on), a simple guard (someone she could try to relate to and proclaim guard-to-guard solidarity), hell, she’d even hoped for a thief (someone who was even guiltier than she was). But the Princess? The Princess was someone she could not face. Perhaps for more than one reason.
As discreetly as she could, she crawled towards the end of the shelf. Across from here, there was a long table she could hide under and right across the table was the entrance.
She could make it.
If only she hadn’t run directly into the Princess’ feet.
She landed on her knees, and dread filled her head. She hung it in shame, some hair coming loose and framing her face. So this is how she would die, huh? With nothing to her name, a mere soldier title that she didn’t even earn herself. She would die without a legacy, without—
“Is that you, Lee Hae?” Your voice sounded extra sweet under the moonlight. “How come you’re out here at this time?”
She wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole. But there was no getting out of this.
“Princess Royal, please forgive my shamelessness.” She did not look up, still on her knees. “In my hunger, I forgot my place. I beg for your forgiveness.”
There was a long silence after Bada finished talking. Should she have said more? She was already on her knees, what else could she do to humiliate herself in front of the Princess?
“You’re telling me my contentment was not enough for you?”
Bada lifted her head quickly, only to realize too late you were mere inches away. You were so close she could count each beauty mark, each freckle on your face. She’d kiss them if you’d let her. She shook her head. Stupid Bada, concentrate on not dying!
“That isn’t it at all, my Princess.” She shook her head violently, to which you chuckled in response, lifting your hand to cover your mouth.
“So you’re a liar, then.”
“No, no! I am not, my Princess,” Bada opened her palms, “I will admit that as earnestly as my heart believes a smile from you is all I ever need to survive in this world, my earthly body persists in imprisoning me with cravings. I sincerely did not mean to succumb to my hunger.”
You watched the young soldier as they hung their head once more. You thought Lee was…funny. Funny in a very lovely and forward way that you couldn’t help but want more of. You brought a hand closer to her face, fingers lifting her chin.
Bada allowed the princess to lift her face, flushing at the contact. She could feel the heat rushing to her face, and it embarrassed her that you could have this effect on her. How you made her lose composure.
“Look at me,” you stated. Your head followed the brown eyes as they moved, trying to get them to look at you. “Soldier Lee, look at me.” You said it firmly this time around. Finally, the person in question did as asked. Big eyes looked up at you, begging for something you weren’t sure you could give.
“You know, Soldier Lee, you are the prettiest man I’ve ever met.”
Oh.
Widened eyes and dropped jaw, “I—”
‘I am not a man,’ she wanted to say. She almost did, and the fact that she nearly gave herself away scared her. She had never come this close to telling someone the truth. Not on impulse nor consciously. To the Princess no less! She was a mess. She’d better get a hold of herself if she intends on making it through.
Bada had proven that she was good with words, and here you were, leaving her stunned. You enjoyed it, maybe a bit too much. Abruptly, you stood up, leaving the soldier down on her knees. You offered a hand, and it was like a spell being broken. She took it. She gathered herself and she was back into the charming and highly trained voice. Your curiosity for the soldier grew as you watched; there was just something that screamed constraint in the way Lee spoke, but for now, you chucked it up to the respectability rules of the Queendom.
“I am sorry for interrupting your night, your Highness. I will take my leave.” Bada turned, but was quickly stopped when you grabbed her wrist.
It surprised both of you. As a noble princess, you had been taught from a young age that nobody but appointed servants get to come in contact with your skin. Yet here you were—two for two.
“Well, actually,” you began, “I’m here because I did not want you to go to sleep hungry.” You let go of Bada’s wrist, and she already missed the warmth of your skin on hers. It had been such a long time since anyone had touched her outside of training.
You signaled for her to follow you. She did, and you guided her to a small table on a corner. A small, white towel covered something and when you lifted it, Bada’s eyes widened. A golden serving tray filled with dishes.
“I ordered something be cooked for you,” you said, hands fidgeting, “I’m afraid it’s probably cold by now. I would’ve tried to get you sooner but my Mother kept me by her side much longer than I expected.”
“I—Thank you, your Royal Highness.” Bada bowed, stomach rumbling and mouth watering. “Thank you.”
“Please, you don’t have to do that.” You said quickly, “You were kind to me, and I couldn’t let my mother punish you for it.” You moved to pick up the tray, glaring at Bada when she tried to hold it for you instead. “I can do it! Plus, I know a spot.”
You walked gracefully, quickly, without spilling a single thing on the tray. Bada was amazed. The both of you stuck to the sides of buildings, remaining in the shadows. Bada anxiously looked around; what would people think if they saw her with the Princess? What rumors will they spread, and how much will they cost her? Her life?
“Through there.” The door was covered with greenery, and Bada could not see the door.
She moved closer to you, whispering into your ear, “where?”
She genuinely couldn’t see it.
You shivered. You could faintly feel her chest against your back, and the warmth it radiated.
You shook your head.
“Here, hold this.” You passed the tray to Bada, making quick work of the hidden door. You opened it and walked through. You moved the vines for Bada, she bent down and met you on the other side.
“Wow…” She gasped. It was a beautiful space, filled with colorful flowers and a pond, four trees on each corner. There was a small house, and Bada doubted it was more than just a bedroom and a bathroom.
“It is the old gardener’s place, but he died and it became abandoned.” You said, placing the tray on the wooden ledge in front of the small house. “The new gardener had a family, so he understandably needed a bigger space.”
You giggled nervously, and Bada found herself loving the sound. She got so lost in your voice and the pretty flowers that she nearly forgot how hungry she was. Nearly.
Bada sat down next to you.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I know!” She said excitedly, your eyes sparkling with joy, “Mother thought of destroying it and building something else but I just loved it so much, I wouldn’t let her. I begged her to let me have it for days, she agreed eventually and now it’s my little place! Very few people know about it; my Mother, the new gardener, my lady-in-waiting, you…”
You finished shyly, smiling at Bada before quickly looking away. Would it be too forward of her to grab your face and make you look at her?
Yes, she decided, yes, it would be.
Her stomach growled.
“Oh,” You gasped, “Please eat! I didn’t mean to make you wait.”
“Please, eat with me.”
“No, no, I ate quite well earlier,” you said, “and you didn’t!”
“I don’t want to eat by myself,” Bada said, “Princess, eat with me, please.”
“I’m telling you I won’t,” refusing her once more, “I'll force feed you this meal myself if you don’t start eating soon.”
“Is that a proposition?” Bada smirked. Your cheeks grew warm against your will.
“I only mean… I want you to eat, you have gone hungry because of me. I don’t want you to be hungry any longer.”
“Would you feed me then?” Bada’s eyes looked down at yours, “If I asked you to?”
You cleared your throat, eyes meeting. “Forgive me, soldier, if I’ve come across in a certain light. But I will never feed a man with two capable hands of his own.”
Bada saw the intensity in your eyes, and how they refused to look away from her hers. She leaned closed, eyes growing dangerous the longer she stayed fixated on you.
“You say ‘a man with two capable hands’ but what if I wasn’t a man? How can you be sure that I am?” Bada brought a hand closer to you, “How do you know these work?” She had gone crazy. In your gaze, she had forgotten herself.
Still, in the back of her mind: if she wasn’t in disguise now, would you feed her then?
You finally broke eye contact, looking down at Bada’s hand. It surprised you how much you wanted to hold it, it surprised you even more when your body started reacting to it. A simple hand with long fingers. A calloused hand from days spent training, yet unlike the hands of the men you’ve encountered. Their hands didn’t bring this strange feeling to your stomach. You mind showed you images of these very hands moving along your body; from the nape of your neck, down your side and in between your—
You scoffed, and then chuckled, “Please don’t be ridiculous, soldier Lee. Now, eat, the food is getting colder by the second.”
Bada covered her feelings with a laugh. She was relieved you ignored her impulsive questions, and at the same time, your response left a bitter taste in her mouth. You were just being nice this entire time? Was there really nothing else in your lingering touches and loving eyes? They were childish questions, but it stung nonetheless. She sighed internally; she couldn’t possibly be getting this close now. It was normal to a certain extent, she had the tendency to develop crushes all the time. Sure, developing one in the Princess would complicate the 'get close to you and advance her career' plot, but she was already here.
All her crushes have faded with time, and this one will too.
Bada finally began eating and she was grateful to you once again. She said so, with cheeks full of food and complete disregard for rules. Rules, you had both broken some many of them already, why start caring about them now?
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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Fruity four + reader taking a weekend trip to a beach house, and reader + best friend!Eddie don't stop touching and teasing each other, including them sharing a bed despite having their own each and him getting hard while they play fight in her bikini👀
i never know who's included in the fruity four anymore so this is mostly just reader/eddie </3
this post is 18+, minors dni.
Eddie comes out of the bathroom shirtless, joggers on his waist as he runs a towel through his hair. It's too long to get away with, and you're sure his rapid strokes of the towel through his curls just tangle them, but you're too cozy in your twin bed to stop him.
"Water pressure sucks in there," He jerks a thumb back towards the bathroom, "I'd have better luck showering down on the shore."
"You'd be all covered in sand," You grimace at the thought, "Just brush your hair and come to bed, I'm tired and I don't wanna hear you clomping around all night."
"I'm not that loud," Eddie grumbles, tossing the towel aside, "You're very demanding."
"Pardon me for wanting a nice vacation," You snap, turning over on the tiny mattress, "I'm so tired from swimming earlier that I thought I was gonna fall asleep on the fire pit."
Eddie comes back with a brush, you can hear it even though you're not facing him anymore. He grabs at your own hair, tugging a strand, "You'd have burnt this all off, babe."
"Leave me alone," You squirm, tugging your hair out of his grip, "I mean it, Munson, I'm exhausted."
"Fine! Fine," He huffs, tossing the brush aside, "Scoot over."
"What?"
"Scoot over," He nudges at your waist, pushing you across the too-small mattress, "You were begging me to come to bed, now you're confused?"
"Not my bed!" You insist, pushing at Eddie's hands that are still on your waist, "Idiot, you've got a bed right over there!"
"I saw a spider in it," Eddie informs you, not-so-convincing in his tall tales, "Just let me in, hardass."
You wriggle to one side of the mattress, but you're not done with him. When he slides beneath the blankets you scoot back against him, your ass flush to his crotch.
"I don't think you saw a spider," You muse, voice hushed as Eddie's breath hitches with the movement of your hips, "I think you want to sleep with me."
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie hums, but his voice shakes slightly, "What makes you think that?"
"You're getting hard," You snicker, "And you were earlier, too. Down by the beach, when we were wrestling. You like seeing me in a bikini? You like putting your hands all over me?"
"Y/N-" Eddie starts, his hands slowly sliding over your waist.
You cut him off with an obnoxious yawn, finally settling with your hips squeezed tight to his own, "On second thought, I'm tired. We'll talk in the morning, Eds. G'night."
He's barely able to grit his teeth and spit back a forced 'Good night.', but from the slight stiffness you feel against your ass, you know he won't be sleeping anytime soon.
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wonderinc-sonic · 6 months
Text
Sonic never celebrated Christmas when he was alone, or planned to after he gained a tiny fox brother. Nobody ever gave Sonic any presents, and he knew vaguely about Santa, but thought that was some kind of Robotnik publicity stunt - a fat man, red cloak, flying in the sky? Seemed an obvious rebrand.
And he didn't do presents those first few years either - Tails never even mentioned he knew about Christmas presents. And of course their other friends didn't. It wasn't until Amy asked him if he was writing a christmas list that Tails gently explained to them all that Father Christmas only came to good kits who had a house he could visit, and clearly even though Tails had a home now, he wasn't that good a kit. Which is an unacceptable thing for your big brother to hear.
Big red guy in the sky, mystical powers? Santa got a rebrand that year, and Knuckles got his pardon for teaming up against Sonic, plus an I O U for later favours.
Sonic insisted Amy and Tails wait up with him Christmas Eve, even though they were too young really. Sleepy on the sofa, they both got a fright when something heavy footed clunked onto the roof, and then fell down their chimney. Sonic put a blanket over them both and told them to shush, as a very gruff father Christmas came in, looking more like a burglar, to see their two stockings.
"Tails? That guy? The bestest- goodest - (what does that say?) - ingeniusest fox ever? Finally! I've found him. Ho. Ho. Ho."
Knuckles read from his list, and dumped 6 years worth of presents next to the stocking, glared at Sonic hiding behind the tree, and climbed back up the chimney with a glass of milk and the plate of cookies held in one hand.
Amy could barely contain herself of course, and Sonic nearly thought he got away with it. As they went to bed, Tails tugged Sonic's ear, and very seriously whispered.
"Do we tell Knuckles we know he's santa?"
"No, bud. I think- I think he'd like you to keep it secret."
After Christmas, Tails insisted they visit Angel Island, and made a great show of explaining he understood why Father Christmas couldn't find him, really, and it wasn't personal. He hoped they could be friends. Sonic and Knuckles had just bought themselves into a few years of prentending to Tails and Amy, then one more year of pretending just to Amy, because she really liked leaving out a home made pie.
Knuckles is still finding work as Cream's Santa today.
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