Tumgik
#*bows* back to the void I go
fennelockley · 5 months
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I apologise to any whovians that are following me, but you'll learn fast that I'm rooting for the Toymaker in the the final episode.
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good-chimes · 4 months
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THE DIVORCE OF THE CENTURY
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS BETWEEN GRIAN AND GOODTIMESWITHSCAR, DAY 1:
His Hon. Judge BdoubleO100: Silence in the court!
[Court is not silent]
His Hon. Judge Bdubs: Silence in the COURT! I can have you all HANGED!
[The court falls as silent as is possible with a dozen Hermits present]
Judge Bdubs: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—
Cleo: Ahem.
Judge Bdubs: WHAT?
Cleo: That’s for weddings, Bdubs. We’re not doing a wedding. In fact, if you think about it, this is about as far away from a wedding as you can get.
Judge Bdubs: Fine fine FINE. Dearly beloathed, we have all been dragged here today because SOME PEOPLE can’t get ALONG. Grian, step forward!
Grian: Do I— is this the podium for witnesses? Who built this and why did they make it out of nothing but trapdoors? So. Okay. I’m filing for divorce.
Scar: Wait, I thought I was filing for divorce.
Judge Bdubs: LET THE DEFENDANT SPEAK.
Ren: Bdubs, my man, that’s the petitioner. The court hasn’t accused Grian of any crimes.
Cleo: [darkly] Yet.
Grian: I haven’t done any crimes! I’m filing for divorce from Scar, obviously. As my lawyer will tell you—
Judge Bdubs: Do you have a lawyer?
Grian: Yes, your Honor. This is my defense lawyer Mumbo Jumbo Esq. [Waggles a hand behind his back and hisses] Mumbo!
Judge Bdubs: Mumbo’s your defense lawyer? Aren’t you supposed to have a divorce lawyer?
Mumbo: [steps forward and bows nervously] Well, I’ve never divorced anyone, but I have got a lot of experience in defending, er, mainly myself, come to think of it, and also my valuables. From Grian, as a matter of fact. So I think I’ll stick with ‘defense lawyer’ if that’s alright with the court, thank you. 
Judge Bdubs: [leans aside to confer with Cleo] Is that alright with the court? Ask Joe.
[Court Scribe JoeHills confirms this is probably alright with the court]
Judge Bdubs: Good, good, next! Scar, do you have a lawyer?
Scar: Oh, absolutely. My lawyer is this cat I found outside.
Judge Bdubs: Not Jellie?
Scar: Jellie doesn’t believe we’re really divorcing and wouldn’t come.
Judge Bdubs: Is this cat a qualified divorce lawyer?
Scar: She’s a—let me look at those markings—she’s clearly a personal injury attorney.
Cleo: Have you been personally injured, Scar?
Scar: Why, thank you for asking, I have. My feelings have been very hurt!
Ren: Uh, Bdubs, maybe the court should establish some facts. Why they’re divorcing, what the court can do for them, that sort of thing.
Judge Bdubs: YES. Let’s start with the facts. Now, we all know why you and Scar got married in the first place. Don’t stand there and make that innocent face at me, Grian, I know all the secrets. You got married because Etho and I had the WEDDING OF THE CENTURY last month and you were JEALOUS—no, don’t talk, THE JUDGE IS TALKING—you were jealous of us. [aside] Bdubs and Etho had the wedding of the century, Joe, are you writing this down?
Court Scribe JoeHills: Yep, your Honor, I’ve written that down.
Grian: It wasn’t that good.
Judge Bdubs: YOU TAKE THAT BACK.
Grian: Etho had his bouquet wrapped in a Kleenex box.
Scar: [sentimentally] Don’t you listen to him, Bdubs, I thought the flower arch was lovely.
Judge Bdubs: Thank you, Scar! I—
Cleo: You can’t find in favor of Scar because he said something nice about your own wedding decorations.
Judge Bdubs: [with dignity] —was NOT going to do that. Ahem. So, you and Scar got married because you were jealous—
Grian: We didn’t! It wasn’t like that!
Judge Bdubs: —and now you want to get divorced. Why?
[At this point Petitioner Grian and Petitioner Scar, who have been studiously avoiding each other’s gazes, appear to lock eyes by accident. They both jerk away like they’ve touched a blaze rod. Grian immediately swivels to face the bench, and this scribe has to note that at normal times Grian’s stare is disconcertingly like two soulless voids looking back at you, so it’s even worse when he’s attempting a poker face. Scar becomes very interested in his cat defense lawyer and doesn’t look at Grian at all.]
Grian: The thing is, you see, this marriage was a scam from the start.
*
EVIDENCE #1
[Dramatization by Court Scribe from participant testimony]
One month previously, a note landed in Scar’s bedroom attached to a firework rocket with a red bow and rose. This was very romantic, or at least it would have been romantic if the rocket hadn’t lodged in the rafters and set itself and a chunk of the surrounding wall on fire, but in any case it was clearly Grian making an effort, so Scar deciphered the coordinates scribbled on the charred note and set off to find out what was going on.
They pointed to a spot in the middle of nowhere. In Scar’s long experience of Grian, this meant an equal chance that they were going to make out or he was going to get inventively murdered, but this was always a gamble worth the odds.
But when he arrived, on a green hill in a quiet spot of the server, it was neither. The top of the hill had been leveled off and covered with birch wood, on which Grian was industriously spelling out something with white wool, though Scar couldn’t make out the words from his low angle of approach. Grian stopped when he spotted Scar and launched up to meet him. His wings beat so fast they were nearly vibrating.
“Scar,” Grian said, “Scar.” His grin was one of a cat who had stolen not only the cream, but the milk, the cow, and everyone else’s cows for good measure. “Scar, I’ve had an idea.”
This was clearly a planning-a-prank type of meeting, which probably meant no making out, but Grian’s pranks were not to be missed. “I’m in,” Scar said. “Do we get fancy costumes? I want a fancy costume.”
“No, Scar, that’s not the point—wait, yes, actually.” Grian angled his wings to carve tight spirals around Scar’s coasting flight, always a sign of excitement, and nudged the angle of their joint descent to land on top of the white wool scrawls. “Yes, fancy costumes are a big part of it, but that’s not—listen, this is my big gesture. Just look down.”
Scar looked down. The wool said, WILL YOU MARR.
“I ran out of wool,” Grian said. He flapped a hand. “Just because it’s a big gesture doesn’t mean it has to be finished.”
“What was it supposed to say?” Scar said innocently.
“Scar!” Grian shifted from foot to foot when he got agitated, which was always funny. “Fine! Okay! Stand there.”
The hidden trapdoor beneath their feet gave way as Grian pressed a switch. Scar yelped for form’s sake, but nothing exploded, and the only thing at the bottom of their tumbled slide was an underground bunker.
It had a table, and two chairs, and a huge corkboard on the otherwise blank walls. Grian had always had a thing for bunkers.
“This,” Grian said, with a flourish, “is the Wedding War Room.”
Scar looked around the bunker and asked the important question. “Are you going to decorate it?”
“Am I going to—no, listen, that’s not the point either. You can decorate it, if you want. The point is, you know how Bdubs and Etho got married?”
“It was beautiful,” Scar agreed immediately. “That wedding chapel? Incredible, honestly, Bdubs is a true artist. Oh! Remember the part where Etho put a river of lava through the chapel roof and glitched it into a heart?”
“Okay, but, you know what Bdubs and Etho got?
“Eternal happiness?”
“Scar.”
“No, what?”
“Bdubs and Etho got royal diamonds,” Grian said impressively. “From the vault.”
“Are they still royal diamonds if Ren’s not king anymore?” Scar said. “I thought we blew up the vault, anyway. You blew it up. I was there.”
“Do you pay any attention to anything that’s not Scarland?” Grian said. “Mumbo didn’t know what to do with the diamonds so he and Iskall built a new vault. I think Mumbo and Iskall and Impulse are the only ones who really know how to get into it. Anyway, everyone got so warm and fuzzy about Bdubs and Etho’s wedding that they all decided to open the vault up and just gave them diamonds.”
“Free diamonds?” Scar said thoughtfully.
“Free diamonds!” Grian’s eyes glittered. “Think of that vault. Stacks on stacks on stacks of diamonds. Thousands of diamonds! We could have some of those, for nothing, just by saying some words. And that’s not even mentioning the wedding presents! We’re out here spending days and days grinding resources and stocking our shops when we could be swimming in it! That could be us, Scar.” Scar had entirely forgotten the lack of interior decorations; he always did, when Grian got on a roll as mesmerizing as this.“And so,” Grian took a deep breath and held out his hand, “Scar, will you marry me?”
Scar took his hand with an enormous wave of affection. “Grian,” he said sincerely, “I have never, in my whole life, wanted to marry anyone more.”
*
EVIDENCE #2
Mumbo took the news more earnestly than Grian had expected.
“Oh,” said Mumbo. “Oh, haha, wow—seriously? Scar said something and I thought it was just a joke, but you guys actually… Wow!” He cleared his throat. “Grian, mate, it’s been a long time coming. I’m so happy for you.”
“Don’t get sappy,” Grian said. “It’s just a wedding. I mean,” he clarified, “it’s a very important wedding, obviously, because it’s my wedding, but I don’t need you to get sappy about it. I don’t even need you to talk about it. I just need you to bring diamonds.”
“I didn’t even know you were going to ask him,” Mumbo said, ignoring the very clear instructions Grian had just given him. “Or did he ask you, or—mate, that’s just brilliant. This is brilliant. Is it because Bdubs and Etho had that wedding? That was really beautiful, I don’t mind saying, I got a little bit teary.”
“This has nothing to do with any weddings anyone else had,” Grian said with dignity. “Our wedding will be better, but that’s unrelated. I didn’t come here to talk about that. I came here to ask you something.” He took hold of Mumbo’s hand in the most meaningful grip he could muster. “Mumbo, we’ve been friends for years, right?”
“Of course,” Mumbo said nervously.
Grian gave it a second’s pause for the sake of drama. “Mumbo Jumbo, will you be my best man?”
“Ah,” Mumbo said, which was not what Grian had expected. “Ah. Er. Might be a problem there.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Well, you see, five minutes ago, Scar…”
*
EVIDENCE #3
<Grian> scar
<Grian> scar
<Grian> scar
<GoodTimeWithScar> yES?
<Grian> my base.
<Grian> now.
<GoodTimeWithScar> On my way
GoodTimeWithScar hit the ground too hard
<GoodTimeWithScar> oNE MINUTE
<Grian> come in the back door
GoodTimeWithScar hit the ground too hard
<GoodTimeWithScar> Was that a trap??
<Grian> mumbo is mine
<GoodTimeWithScar> No he isn’t, Mister!
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [HoTgUy]
<Grian> MUMBO IS MINE
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Vindicator
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [HoTgUy]
<Renthedog>: :o
GoodTimeWithScar burned to death
<Renthedog> Everything okay there, gentlemen?
<Grian> best man debate
GoodTimeWithScar was poked to death by a sweet berry bush
<Grian> all settled now
<Renthedog> wait
<EthosLab> Wait
<BdoubleO100> WAIT
<TangoTek> are you two…?
<Grian> invitations dropping tomorrow. wedding gift mandatory.
<GoodTimeWithScar> Come one, Come all!
<Grian> only diamonds will be considered real presents
<PearlescentMoon> huh
<impulseSV> omg finally! So happy for you guys!
<PearlescentMoon> be honest Grian, is this because Bdubs and Etho got married and you had to one-up them?
<Grian> NO IT IS NOT
*
EVIDENCE #4
The bachelor party negotiations were even more hard-fought than the best man.
They held the impromptu negotiations in the Wedding War Room, which was now covered with loving maps and hundreds of bits of paper that neither of them had read since putting them up there. They looked good, though, so Scar kept adding more.
There was a pile of paper strips on the table in front of them. Scar and Grian sat facing off like two negotiators at a ceasefire.
“Mumbo’s my best man,” Grian said, picking the first name off the pile without breaking eye contact and moving it to his side of the table, “so he comes to my party.” Scar gave in with a modicum of grace. The possibility of having bachelor parties at different times had been wordlessly considered and then summarily dismissed by both combatants.
Scar escalated it to a blood sport as he picked up the next bit of paper. “Pearl’s coming to my party.”
Grian yelped and grabbed Scar’s wrist. “She is not. I knew her first!”
“I know her better,” Scar countered. “Or at least,” he added, “I know her building style better.”
“You can’t just steal my friend because you like her building! That’s not how that works!”
“I think she’d enjoy it,” Scar said meditatively. “I’m going to have champagne. Glitter. Razzmatazz.”
“I will have more champagne,” Grian said mutinously. He hadn’t taken his hand off Scar’s wrist. “And more razzmatazz. You can’t have Pearl.”
“Oh, all right then,” Scar said, since Pearl was one of Grian’s oldest friends and he’d never had a chance of getting her anyway. Grian plucked the piece of paper out of his hand and put it on top of Mumbo’s paper. “I get Bdubs, though.”
That was a given. Grian didn’t seriously dispute it, though he opened his mouth to try. “I—yes, fine. You can have Bdubs.” Scar swept the piece of paper to his own side of the table.
“And that means,” Scar proceeded, with the grand momentum of a train starting to roll, “that I get Etho, as well.” He shuffled through the bits of paper and displayed Etho’s name like a magic trick.
He watched Grian calculate his chances of getting Etho if Bdubs was going to Scar’s party. “…okay, yeah, you get Etho.”
“Also that means I get Cleo,” Scar said. “She’ll come if Bdubs does. We don’t want to split up friends.” He drew Cleo’s name towards him, sliding another couple of slips underneath it at the same time. “Oh, and Joe as well, if Cleo’s coming.”
“What’s that other one?” Grian said suspiciously. He trapped Scar’s hand and pried out the third name. “What—no, you can’t have Ren.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Scar said in his most reasonable voice. “Hear me out. I have Cub, right?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, I have Cub, and Bdubs, and Cleo, and Joe, so, by royal decree…”
“You can’t have Ren just because the five of you were in a royal murder cult with him!”
“Excuse me, mister, that wasn’t a cult. That was the royal court!”
“It was too a cult,” said Grian, a man who had once persuaded Ren into living in camper vans in the woods with him for weeks in order to break into a military base and steal a magic box.
Ren’s name was already safely on Scar’s side of the table. “And if I have Ren, then I have to have Doc—”
“Look, Scar, if you get all of Bdubs’ current and former exes—”
“—what’s a ‘current ex’—”
“—Etho and don’t interrupt me, if you get everyone Bdubs has ever had a relationship plus their plus ones you get ninety percent of our friends.”
“Is it my fault I throw good parties?” Scar protested. “Look, you can have—”
“I’m having Impulse,” Grian interrupted, pulling his name out. “I need more redstoners.”
“What for?”
Grian waved a hand. “You just need them around.” Scar nodded, unable to find a flaw in the logic. “Also I get Joel. And Martyn. And Timmy.”
“I built Jimmy a train,” Scar objected. He put his fingertips on the other end of Jimmy’s name while Grian attempted to steal it.
“All right, this is the ‘disputed’ pile,” Grian said, pushing it to the side. “Who else?”
Now they had a disputed pile, it started filling up. “If I have Cleo,” Scar said, “then technically I should have Scott—”
“You can’t keep using that trick!” 
“Then how are we going to fix it, Grian?” Scar’s tone was eminently reasonable. “I think we should just let people be friends.”
“They are friends,” Grian said. “They’re friends with me.”
“They could be friends with me.”
“Tell you what,” Grian said, a warlike gleam coming into his eyes. “We’ll ask them.”
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Bdubs: So that’s how the split started?
Cleo: You weren’t even married at that point.
Grian: Right! Exactly! We weren’t even married and Scar used underhand methods to steal my friends!
Scar: Excuse me. You went around the server threatening everyone who you didn’t think was coming to your party. Talk about underhand methods! I just offered them a good time.
Grian: Your bribed them! You bribed them to come to your bachelor party! [stabs a finger at Judge Bdubs] You even bribed him, so I don’t know why we put him in charge of this divorce.
Judge Bdubs: Nobody is allowed to question the integrity of the judge! I am as PURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW.
Scar: That’s a good point. I gave you netherite, Bdubs, you should be ruling in my favor.
Judge Bdubs: You gave me ONE netherite ingot, I’m not giving you a ruling for that.
Scar: Grian, I think this judge is biased.
Judge Bdubs: HOW DARE YOU.
Grian: Scar is right, this judge is corrupt! I can’t believe we were forced into this farce of a trial and the judge is corrupt! Joe, I demand a new judge.
[Court Scribe JoeHills indicates that he is pretty sure this whole divorce trial was Grian’s idea in the first place, and also that judges cannot usually be replaced just like that, and the Court Scribe personally does not have a reserve list]
Judge Bdubs: I refuse to SIT HERE and be SLANDERED! You’re both guilty! [slams gavel] TAKE THEM TO THE DUNGEONS.
[Court Scribe JoeHills confirms that the petitioners have not actually been accused of anything—despite obviously having committed many crimes, Cleo would like to me to record—so cannot be found guilty, and in any case we don’t have any dungeons]
Judge Bdubs: Fine! I give up! CLEO, YOU’RE THE JUDGE NOW.
Judge Cleo: Wait, am I?
[Judge Bdubs forcibly transfers the judicial wig to Cleo, upon which the snakes in her hair make a spirited attempt to eat it.]
Scar: Can we get on with it?
Judge Cleo: Yes, you can shut up. You can all shut up! Thank you. That’s better. Are you sure you two can’t just settle it out of court so we can all go home?
Grian: No, we can’t. Me and Scar have [checks his notes] undergone an irreparable breakdown.
Scar: Sure, we might have had an eruptable breakdown, but you can’t say it was my fault. I tried to make it work. I built us a honeymoon island! It had palm trees and deckchairs and everything. I’m coming here in good faith and I deserve to be the innocent party.
Grian: I want all the diamonds Scar has.
Judge Cleo: Joe, is he allowed to ask for that?
[Court Scribe diligently references the law summary he found on the internet, suggests that at this stage the judge can grant temporary financial orders on petitioner request]
Grian: Fine, I want half of Scar’s diamonds.
Scar: I need all my diamonds for Scarland materials!
Grian: They’re not your diamonds! They’re my diamonds!
Scar: Then I get half of all your dark prismarine, thank you very much, that will be amazingly useful.
Grian: You’re not touching my dark prismarine! I’ll sell it all if you try!
Judge Cleo: Nobody is touching anyone else’s anything! Ren, stop laughing, this is a serious courtroom. Grian, you’re not allowed to sell your dark prismarine. Scar, you’re not allowed to hide any of your diamonds. Everyone is going to keep things exactly as they are until this trial is done.
Grian: Do you trust him? Look at him, look at his face, would you trust that man? Of course you wouldn’t! All the diamonds should stay in my base while we’re having the trial.
Scar: This is outrageous! This is an outrageous demand! You can’t just question a man’s honor like that!
Judge Cleo: Well, put them somewhere safe. Joe can keep them.
Grian: [grudgingly] I suppose we could put them in the Royal Vault.
Judge Cleo: You want to put your valuables in escrow?
Scar: I don’t see what birds have to do with it.
[Short pause while the concept of ‘escrow’ is explained to both petitioners]
Scar: Well, I’ll do it, but I think Grian should put all his resources in nestcrow. Seeing as it’s all his fault.
Grian: I did everything right! I was the perfect groom!
Judge Cleo: You know, Grian, somehow I have my doubts. Go back to your marriage testimony. What happened next?
*
EVIDENCE #5
“Ahem,” said Mumbo. “Ahem.”
Grian rolled his eyes, jumped up on a table, decided that wasn’t good enough, flew up and perched on the light fitting, and yelled, “Everyone! It’s happening! The best man is speaking!”
Silence fell.
“I was actually going to announce you,” Mumbo said. He cleared his throat. “All right! So! This… is a bachelor party!”
The bachelor party–all three of them–looked at each other.
“Woohoo!” said Iskall.
“Party time!” tried Pearl gamely.
“I was promised champagne,” said Scott, who had been lured through the portal with one bribe only.
“There will be champagne,” said Mumbo. “As best man, it is my job to plan the bachelor party, and to plan a party that is… appropriate, and thoughtful, and informed by my long friendship with Grian, so,” he coughed, “if everyone could check the boxes under their chairs for supplies, we do have an event. Sort of thing. Kind of a party game.”
“Er,” said Pearl, checking under her chair. “This is… quite a lot of...”
Iskall started to giggle.
“Seriously, I was promised champagne,” said Scott.
“Yes, yes, we’ll get to that,” Mumbo said. “First, we’re going to sneak into the other party and blow them all up.”
“...so many ender crystals…” whispered Pearl.
“Look how they sparkle!” said Iskall.
“What about the—”
“And! When they’re all dead,” said Mumbo, “we can take their champagne.”
Grian flew down from the light fitting and landed in front of Mumbo. His eyes were shining. He took Mumbo’s hands in his. “Mumbo,” he breathed. “I’ve changed my mind. Can I marry you instead?”
“Er,” said Mumbo. “No?”
“Did you even order any refreshments?” said Scott.
“Listen,” Mumbo said, “it’s Grian’s party, we were going to end up doing this anyway, and it’ll be fun.”
“Dibs on blowing up Scar!” said Grian.
“We understand, Grian,” said Pearl.
“I suppose that’s sort of romantic?” said Scott in an undertone. “You’d think he’d have more trauma about it, after all the–”
“This is going to be so funny,” Grian said, scooping up handfuls of ender crystals. “Best–best man–ever.”
*
EVIDENCE #6
The actual wedding was a subdued affair.
The wedding venue had just about survived, by virtue of being several hundred blocks away from either bachelor party, though the smoking craters were visible in the background. From the front, the building was a charming mansion with flowers in every window. From every other angle it might be a gray shell, but Grian was a very busy person who was getting married and he couldn’t be expected to get to everything.
On the morning of the wedding, when Grian finally pieced himself together and dragged himself back from respawn he was met by the two Best Man candidates: Mumbo, who was sitting on the step of the venue dismally trying to piece his scorched suit back together, and Cub, who was completely unruffled and appeared to be doing a crossword.
“Oh, Grian, you made it.” Mumbo abandoned his scorched hems in relief. “Some people haven’t even respawned yet. We really do need Scar, though—”
“I’m here! I’m here!” Scar, impeccably dressed in a blue morning suit, swooped in from above, trailing flowers and losing his top hat in the process. “Gosh. Nobody else made it, huh?”
“I don’t believe this,” Grian said. “None of them?”
“Weren’t you supposed to open the portal again for the Empires people?”
“I forgot,” Grian said. “But we can’t focus on that. We have to focus on the fact that at least twenty Hermits promised to come, and now they aren’t here.”
“I, um,” Mumbo said. “I take full responsibility for the original idea, but I think the seventh time you blew up Bdubs and Ren and Doc and Zedaph you did blow up all their stuff as well. And I think some people got hit so hard they won’t respawn for a week.”
“That was their fault,” Grian said. “For being in the way of my ender crystals.”
“Seven times?” Cub said.
“Oh, as if you’ve never blown up someone and all their stuff seven times and pushed their respawn into next week.”
“So, what?” Scar said. “Do we just…not have a wedding?”
Mumbo coughed. “I think you should still get married.”
“What?”
“I just think,” Mumbo gestured vaguely. “You know, your whole thing. And Jevin made you the suits and everything. It would be a shame. You could have an intimate wedding without any guests, you know. I’m just saying.”
Grian attempted to trade a skeptical look with Scar. This didn’t work, as Scar had gone faintly red and wasn’t looking at him. “An intimate wedding, you mean, right here?” Scar said. “Now? Oh, yes, of course, but you know, now I come to think about it, I don’t know I can get married.”
This smelled like weakness. “What’s wrong with marrying me?” Grian demanded. “Are you backing out?”
“No, I—I need my top hat! I can't get married without my top hat!”
“Are you scared, Scar?”
“Of course I'm not scared!” Scar said indignantly. “We’ll do it right now! Who’s marrying us? Oh—Joe’s still respawning, isn’t he? Cub, you can do it, can’t you? Cub’s an ordained priest, you know.”
“That’s right,” Cub said agreeably.
“Is he?” Grian said suspiciously. “Which religion?”
Cub’s faint smile didn’t change at all. “Don’t worry about that.”
“You don’t want to think too hard about it,” Scar said breezily. “But he’s very official! Very well-respected in the community.”
In all their planning, Grian had given no thought at all to the actual wedding. He was nearly certain that the chanting from the officiant was supposed to be pleasant and inoffensive, about, well, love and stuff, and he was also fairly sure the officiant’s eyes were not supposed to turn black as a flaming rift appeared behind him spewing an unknowable sense of dread, but at that point Scar kissed Grian thoroughly, and that lasted so long that Mumbo had to break it up after a few minutes with a polite cough, and by that time Cub had finished chanting and gone back to his crossword.
“That was very touching,” Mumbo said, apparently relieved they weren’t still kissing right in front of him. “Shame about the guests, but you can’t have everything.”
“Shocking,” Scar agreed. “Do they still have to give us presents? Maybe if we waited a week and did it again? I have to say, I could use a little more time to get the trees right on Honeymoon Island.”
“We’re not having a honeymoon, Scar, I told you,” Grian said. “This wedding is just business, and we don’t have any business without the presents.”
Mumbo was wearing the expression that Grian had always vaguely compared to an accountant breaking the bad news about something unspeakable going on in the stockmarket. “To be honest with you,” Mumbo said, “I don’t think many of them were in a present-giving mood. I think, um, you might have to write off the presents.”
“Are you telling me,” Grian said, “that this whole scheme has been a complete failure?”
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Cleo: So, let me get this straight, the plan was to scam all of us—
Scar: Scam is a strong word. More like a trade, if you think about it! A trade where we get presents and you get a warm sense of fuzziness and wellbeing.
Judge Cleo: —exactly, to scam us, and it all went wrong, and you realized the marriage was a mistake? That was weeks ago, though. What happened between that and the divorce?
*
EVIDENCE #7
LIST OF POST-WEDDING WRONGDOING COMMITTED BY GRIAN AND SCAR, VARIOUS (condensed from two hours of court arguments)
i. “Well, then I took some deepslate from Grian because I needed it for Scarland, which is just borrowing, if you think about it.”
ii. “Scar really owed me diamonds because it was his fault the scam didn’t work.”
iii. Lengthy descriptions of the damage from ensuing weeks-long prank war.
iv. “He should honestly have expected me to put chickens in his storage system.”
v. Evidence received from Xisuma that this lagged out the entire server.
vi. Evidence received from Grian that Scarland lags out the entire server anyway and this is probably a crime so why can’t the court do something about that.
vii. Strong representations from both sides that the other one snores and hogs the covers and this probably ought to be a crime.
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Cleo: [face down on judicial bench] Have they stopped talking yet?
Court Scribe JoeHills: No, they’re still going.
*
EVIDENCE #8
FURTHER LIST OF WRONGDOINGS COMMITTED BY GRIAN AND SCAR
viii. “Yes I did blow him up after that, but it’s not illegal if it’s funny.”
ix. Complicated debate about whether ensuing sabotage was funny enough not to be illegal.
x. Representations from Grian that everything is Scar’s fault with absolutely no legal backing at all.
xi. Representations from Scar, ditto, with the addition of fake law he says his cat defense attorney told him.
xii. At this point, Court Scribe JoeHills has given up attempting to make sense of the petitioners’ ongoing argument.
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Cleo: Enough! ENOUGH! No! Shut up! If I have to listen to one more attempt at utterly specious reasoning from either of you I am going to pick up this gavel and I am going to drive its handle through my own skull. This is definitely both your fault, you are terrible people, and I hope you get divorced harder than anyone has ever got divorced in history.
[Mildly stunned silence in the court]
Judge Cleo: Right. Good. I am about to quit. But before I quit, because Joe asked me nicely to come here today, I am going to order one of you to serve the other with divorce papers before tomorrow. That’s the next thing on the list: one of you has to formally divorce the other. No, I am not going to hear any more arguments, I’m done with this whole thing, you can find a new judge. Yes, Scar?
Scar: [lowers his tentatively raised hand] How do we know which one divorces the other one?
Judge Cleo: [looks blank] Well… I suppose it’s who serves their papers first?
*
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: SCAR
Body of complaint: Grian wont accept divorce papers and keeps avoiding me.
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: GRIAN
Body of complaint: scar didn’t take a single copy of the papers despite the fact i filled his bedroom with them
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: SCAR
Body of complaint: Grian paid impulse to make a divorce paper printing redstone machine. It feels like this, should be Illegal!
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: GRIAN
Body of complaint: scar employed my best man to make him a rival printing machine. this is sabotage.
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: ZEDAPH
Body of complaint: Er, I know you’re doing a whole trial thingummy, but I would really like to be able to move around my base without swimming through mountains of divorce papers. Does it look like this is going to be possible any time in the near future?
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: DOCM77
Body of complaint: WHY HAVE SEVENTY THOUSAND BADLY-PRINTED COPIES OF DIVORCE PAPERS BEEN SHOVELED INTO THE PERIMETER! I AM HOLDING ALL OF YOU PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE! I WILL RAIN DOWN FIRE AND BLOOD!
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 2:
Judge Mumbo: Right, so, apparently I’m supposed to be ruling on who served who with papers.
Scar: Excuse me! Objection! This new judge is clearly biased.
Grian: No, he’s not. This is all completely fine. Mumbo can be the judge now, and he can just wear a different hat when he’s being my lawyer.
Judge Mumbo: I am a bit biased, I have to admit.
Grian: No you’re not, Mumbo.
Scar: Admit it, there can’t be a fair trial for Grian under these circumstances!
Judge Mumbo: Uh—
Scar: Because I know Mumbo, and he can’t resist these…HoTgUy abs!
[Minor chaos as the court attempts to enforce a dress code]
Judge Mumbo: [removes his wig] Sorry, Grian, he’s right. Scar’s papers are accepted.
Grian: TRAITOR.
Mumbo: Scar, can I have another calendar?
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3:
Judge Ren: Court is called to order! Where’s—oh, there you are. Scar, you’re late.
Scar: Sorry! I was working on our honeymoon island.
Grian: What do you mean, our honeymoon island? Scar, we’re divorcing.
Scar: That doesn't mean you can just abandon a build, Grian. Some of us don't leave our backsides unfinished.
Cleo: Someone please get Ren a glass of water, I think he’s going to choke.
Judge Ren: Ahem. Now, gentlemen, I understand Scar is filing for divorce from Grian on the grounds of [checks his notes] desertion, abandonment, and unreasonable behavior.
Grian: Excuse me, what! If I’ve been unreasonable, what about him?
Scar: I have been a model of rationality and recti— rectic— ridiclitude.
Judge Ren: Indeed. I have heard Scar always finishes his backsides.
Grian: I’ll give you unreasonable behavior! This whole thing is your fault! If your bachelor party hadn’t been so badly defended I wouldn’t have been able to blow you all up.
Scar: Well, mister, if you hadn’t overthrown Ren in the first place he might have shown up to our wedding in spite of it!
Grian: If you’d been better at your job I wouldn’t have been ABLE to overthrow him!
Scar: You—you—oooh, I oughta—
Grian: [tauntingly] Ought to what?
Judge Ren: Scar, no, not in court…!
Scar: HOTGUY! [Retrieves bow from improbably small pocket and summarily murders his co-petitioner on the witness. Chaos ensues. Trial name hastily changed.]
TRANSCRIPT OF TRIAL PROCEEDINGS FOR THIRD-DEGREE MURDER, DAY 1:
Judge Ren: Listen, Scar, did you, or did you not, kill another petitioner right in front of me?
Scar: What? Oh, yeah, I just shot Grian.
Judge Ren: You can’t just—My dude, this might have been a crime of passion, but you understand this is a court and that was murder, right?
Cleo: Objection.
Judge Ren: Yes?
Cleo: We can’t start prosecuting for murder now.
[Pause as the court considers the comprehensive history of all Hermits present.]
TRANSCRIPT OF TRIAL PROCEEDINGS FOR THIRD-DEGREE MURDER, DAY 1
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3:
Judge Ren: [once Grian has returned from spawn] You’re going to have to come to some sort of agreement, gentlemen. It’s been days.
Grian: I think we should fight.
Judge Ren: This court does not do trial by combat. I refuse to be witness to such barbarity.
Cleo: I mean…if you think about it, it would stop them arguing.
Judge Ren: …
Judge Ren: I think I could stand to watch someone else compromise their morals. From a distance. Who wants this wig?
Judge Pearl: [settling in at the bench] Right! I think you two should fight. To the death.
Grian: LET’S FIGHT.
Judge Pearl: Riding ravagers.
Scar: What?
Judge Pearl: It would be funny.
Scar: Ravagers, though—
Grian: Don’t listen to Scar, he just murdered me. He doesn’t have a leg to stand on.
Scar: Alright! Alright, we can fight, but I’m only doing it if it’s somewhere dramatic.
Grian: …What do you mean, dramatic?
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3 (CONTINUED):
[The court has moved proceedings from its custom-built courthouse to a location considered ‘acceptably dramatic’ by Petitioner Scar. We are now in the dim, cavernous monolith of the Royal Vault, where the walls are sheer deepslate lit only by flickering lanterns, and mountains of diamonds and chests gleam softly in the shadowed gloom. The court is gathered here to watch the petitioners fight symbolically over their own escrowed valuables, which are piled in the middle of a stone platform built by Grian and Pearl, and see a final conclusion to this bitterly-fought split. At either end of the platform are pens with two enraged ravagers donated by Tango, salivating at the buffet of violence and blood about to—]
Judge Pearl: [leans over the edge of her observation chair] Joe! What are you doing down there scribbling?
Court Scribe JoeHills: Oh, I’m just adding narrative color.
Judge Pearl: Well, stop doing that and pay attention to the fight! We’re about to start!
Bdubs: FIGHT!
Cub: Let’s go!
Mumbo: Grian, mate, you’ve got this.
Bdubs: RUN HIM THROUGH, SCAR. TEACH HIM TO MAKE FUN OF MY WEDDING DECORATIONS.
Doc: What happens if they both die? I would like them both to die.
Judge Pearl: Contestants! Mount your steeds!
Grian: [has succeeded in landing on his ravager’s back, something Scar has not yet managed] I want you to know, Scar, that whatever happens—
Judge Pearl: Scar! You can’t just stand there, you have to TRY to ride it.
Grian: —I think we can count this as a—
Bdubs: FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!
Scar: [his head comes up to look at Grian] —a double victory?
[As if this is a code word, Grian and Scar’s gazes meet. The Court Scribe feels obliged to note that when Grian and Scar smile at the same time, history suggests something terrible is about to happen.]
Scar: Well, hello there, Mister Ravager! Would you like to get out of that pen?
Bdubs: Wait, what’s he—Scar, you ain’t supposed to break the wall that lets them at us! SABOTAGE!
Judge Pearl: GRIAN!
Grian: [shrieking as his ravager swerves into the crowd of spectators] Scar! The switch!
[Your trusty Court Scribe hurriedly dives out of the way as Scar flings himself into the pile of his and Grian’s valuables, where the tell-tale glint of redstone has been hidden under the piles of chests.]
Ren: Why do both of them have all those empty shulkers?
Cleo: Wait, wait, did we just give Grian and Scar unfettered access to all the diamonds in the vault?
Judge Pearl: WATCH OUT, THEY’VE HIDDEN TNT UNDER THE—
[Scar slams a switch. The world explodes. The Judge and most spectators are instantly blown up. The only survivors are your Court Scribe, who managed to get behind an obsidian pillar, and Cub, rising above the chaos on pre-equipped elytra wings with the philosophical serenity of someone who saw this coming.]
*
POSTSCRIPT
It’s a beautiful day, the sky is a clear and serene blue, and Grian and Scar have gotten away with everything.
Grian coasts joyfully ahead of Scar on outstretched wings, loaded down with boxes and boxes of ill-gotten diamonds, looping head-over-heels only when he can’t contain the energy bubbling through him. “We are the greatest, Scar. We are geniuses. We are the greatest geniuses who ever lived.”
“Oh, we are,” Scar agrees instantly. A lesser person might have pointed out their first plan failed spectacularly and their hasty second one only succeeded by luck, but this is why Grian married Scar specifically. Only he’s not married to Scar any more, is he? For one shining moment Grian had forgotten that.
The crater of the Royal Vault is far below and receding, the debris scattered like little jeweled toys. Grian is recalled to the present gleeful moment in which they are geniuses who have pulled the whole thing off and are richer than every other hermit put together. “Where are we going?”
“I was following you,” Scar says.
“I didn’t think this far ahead! I only planned up to the part where we stole everyone’s diamonds!”
“Oh, well, that’s easy,” Scar says confidently. “Change course to Honeymoon Island!”
Grian doesn’t have a good argument against that, and anyway, he’s too happy and diamond-dazzled to argue. Scar strikes out to the azure ocean and Grian dips into his wake and soars behind.
Scar has outdone himself, as usual. Honeymoon Island is just one long crescent-shaped beach with crystal seas, golden sands, palm trees, deck chairs, and—somehow—little iced coconut drinks that keep reappearing and each have a little paper umbrella. Naturally, Scar hasn’t thought of including a safe room for all their new valuables, so Grian has to dig out a makeshift bunker for all their ill-gotten gains, but when all that excitement is done, Grian throws himself onto a deckchair with a coconut drink and closes his eyes.
“So?” Scar says, in the expectant tone of someone who has spent three weeks fiddling with the palm trees that are currently casting an exquisitely-latticed shade over Grian’s eyelids, despite the fact they were technically divorcing all that time. “What do you think?”
“It is very pretty,” Grian admits grudgingly. “We can’t use it for a honeymoon, though. We’re divorced.”
“Are we divorced?” Scar is thoughtfully making origami out of his paper umbrella. “We did ditch them all before the trial officially finished.”
“Oh, we’re absolutely divorced. Super divorced.”
“I suppose you’re right. No honeymoon for us, then?”
An idyllic silence falls over the palm-fringed beach. The sea laps at the shining sands, creating a soft music from the shells and pebbles. The leaves rustle. This coconut drink in Grian’s hand is surprisingly good.
“Scar—”
“Hey, Grian—”
There is a pause.
“Go on,” Grian says impatiently.
“No, no, I think you should ask.”
“I asked last time!” This is ridiculous. It’s a shame Grian has been enchanted by the ridiculous for years now. “We’re probably not even talking about the same—”
Scar interrupts, which is rude, but unfortunately he’s picked his most golden and unfair voice, like the sea caressing the sand, and Grian is momentarily helpless. “Will you, Grian,” Scar says, “do me the great honor of marrying me? Again?”
Grian throws a paper umbrella at him. “Scar,” he says, “I thought you’d never ask.”
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starlit-mansion · 1 year
Text
decided to fight the ender dragon in the 35 minutes i had before work today because i want an elytra sauuuur bad (and i have over a chest of gunpowder stacks and can't do much more exploring in the nether until i have a couple), and i'm a decent shot, then i immediately died like an idiot while half over a void, and while i lucked into keeping my best goodies, I lost all my arrows, and decided... you know what. i will make the fact that i'm stubborn and immortal HER problem and proceeded to scale as many obsidian towers as i could and punch the end crystals bare-handed
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chococolte · 8 months
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☼ — pietas maris
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♱ : my take on sagau childe
including ☆! — him as a worshiper, and his reaction to being your lover ⛧
word count. 5.6k
୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, cult au, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl. ୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. now time for me to disappear back into the aether for another 6 months
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The abyss is cold.
It is unfeeling, lacking warmth and passion. It is relentless, cruel, and unkind. It corrupts, ruins, and does so freely, without remorse or thought. It leaves you clinging to the hot blood in your veins, curled up and hidden in the dark reaches of its void.
Childe had always been versatile; quick to adapt, even at such a young age. He grew used to the emptiness, the swelling numbness, and the eventual gnawing loneliness left in his abdomen. They became a part of him as his lungs, as integral as air; to be without felt odd, foreign.
The glimmer of your existence kept Childe company. He did not know who you were, or how lucky he was— only that you brought him comfort, like an old lullaby, or a blanket worn from overuse. He reached for you when the darkness grew too much, too heavy a burden on his small shoulders.
He came to you with little offerings; small trinkets, tomes of unreadable text. Useless to him, but perhaps you would take pity on him in exchange, and let him take comfort in your presence for another day. Childe came to you with rubble shaped in hearts, the gentle breath of his voice as he spoke of his anxieties. He did not think of them as offerings then, merely gifts— pleadings for you to stay a little longer.
His hands, then unruined and soft, made you a makeshift altar crafted out of whatever he could find. He made sure to build it where he felt your whispers were strongest, where your light entirely overwhelmed the darkness overhead. Childe didn't think of it as an altar then, just a place to settle his findings, where he could pretend his sad, little effigy made of you was actually you.
The idol didn't look much like a person at all, and at the time, he didn't think of his behavior as odd. He desperately clung to you for survival, and with no other warm body besides his own, you were the only one he could talk too.
At times, he thought he was going insane. There was a pleasant buzzing in his ears whenever he neared your doll, as if it were calling him. Despite the fact that he had made it, proven by the tiny scars on his palms, he still felt as if it was yours.
In the darkness, Childe whispered to you. He said everything his mind could think, childishly exaggerated tales in hopes of impressing you. A foolish endeavor, considering you were a God— but he still hoped that maybe you'd think of him kindly, and let him bask in your protective glow for just one more moment.
He couldn't hear your words, but he could feel them. The twinkle of your laughter was like a soft whistle in his ears. When you were pleased, the air would lightly ruffle his hair. Despite how agonizing his loneliness was, at least he had you by his side.
Childe's innocence, as all things do, eventually withered away in that malevolent black.
He thought of you as his teacher; a guiding hand that trained him, molded him to fit against your palm. When he struggled against the abyssal beasts, he could feel you— a soft brush against his hand, a firm hold on his back, keeping him focused. You taught him when to still his blade and when to strike.
In the arches of his sword and polearm, in the taut and tense pull of his bow, in the whirlwind of his catalyst— you were there, shining from beyond the thin veil separating you.
When Childe was ripped out of the abyss, so was his connection to you. Like a thread snapping, he could no longer feel you; not in the darkness overhead, not in the grip of his blade, of the depths of his soul. You were gone, and he was once again nothing but a boy, lost and alone. Friends and family surround him, thankful for his return, but his mind is still reeling, still stuck in the abyss and the sudden emptiness left in your wake.
Despite himself, Childe had hoped you would have stayed, even once he was out. He thought he was done with being naïve, but that clearly wasn't the case.
He can’t feel you anymore. Where did you go? Why did you leave? What did he do wrong? Questions swirl in his head like whirlpools of thought. Childe feels like he's drowning, suffocating in the mess of his mind. His breaths come out short, quick and sharp. His throat squeezes, constricting his airways, as he realizes what's unfolded.
You left him.
He should've known better. On that first day, all you had done was take pity on him by letting him linger in your light. It was his fault for ever believing that he would never have to be alone again. That even if he had no one else, at least he had you.
This was the result of his own failure. If only he had proven himself worthy.
When his family found him, they found him gripping a small, rudimentary doll. Even when they reached their home, Childe was still clutching the thing as if possessed. When they tried tugging it out of his hands, saying it would help him eat better, he ripped it from their grasp, holding it to his chest.
Childe couldn't accept that you had left him so easily. At night, back in his warm bed, Childe tries to whisper to you again. The familiar warmth sinks into his pores, but it's nothing like yours. He nuzzles closer to the doll, ignoring how it tears into his skin.
"I'm here," he whispers.
Maybe you got confused. He knows you're a God, but even the Seven are not omniscient. When he was torn from the abyss, it was possible you hadn't meant to so cruelly cut the connection between you. Maybe you couldn't find him, and so he just has to tell you where he is.
So he whispers to you in the dark, just as he has so many times before.
Only this time, he's met with silence.
In the years that pass, you linger at the forefront of his mind, haunting him like a wraith. Childe can't bring himself to be rid of you, despite how it hurts every time he thinks about you for a little too long. He's still stuck, perpetually waiting for your return, despite how he knows you've long given him up.
Childe becomes Tartaglia, the 11th Harbinger under the Tsaritsa. He takes a new name, a new mask— he executes her orders dutifully, and he does his role perfectly. He acts as if she's you, despite how desperately he wants to believe otherwise. If he closes his eyes for long enough, he can pretend that the cold that seeps into his bones in her presence is yours.
But no matter how many names and identities he takes, he'll always just be your Ajax; the boy who still misses you, despite how short your time together was. And that fact is what burns him the most.
Maybe he should be angry. He knows he has every right to be. Angry that you left him, that you discarded him as if he was nothing. Maybe he should hate you— hate you for leaving him alone, as if you weren't the only thing keeping him sane. Hate you for leaving as if his love didn't matter to you.
He comforts himself by thinking of the time dilation he experienced in the abyss. You cared for him so much that you spun three days into three months. He likes to believe he meant something to you; he must've, because why else would you lengthen your time spent together?
Childe knows it isn't true. He didn't matter enough for you to stay, after all.
At night, Childe finds himself listlessly thinking of you. It's a silent mourning. Quiet tears fall down his cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath his head. He chokes down every heaving sob that threatens to break from his throat; clenches his jaw when they claw too close to his lips. He slaps a hand over his mouth when he's too loud, biting his fingers until they're bloody and marred by his teeth. What would you think if you saw him this weak? Saw the boy you built up crumble, all because he can't feel even the softest traces of your presence anymore?
You would find him pathetic. All he's done is prove that you were right in abandoning him.
When the memory of you is too much to bear, he clutches the effigy in his arms, squeezing it against his chest until it's sharp edges dig into his skin. Even after all these years, he's still kept it close. He tries to feel the visage of you that was once attached to its bearings, whispering for you under the night sky, hoping it'll remind you of your time in the abyss— hoping that tonight he will feel you again, ruffling his hair with tendrils of wind.
He never does.
Childe barely sleeps, but when he does, he dreams of you. You have no body, no face— he can't even begin to imagine what you look like, and he doesn't dare too, even when he knows he has nothing to lose.
He's back in the dark, but you're still there with him, providing him light and comfort. If he knew that leaving would entail being without you, he never would have left at all. Better to be with you than to die without.
Sometimes, he dreams of you staying with him even after he escapes. Your warmth is ever-present. He gifts you riches, now. You have a voice in his dreams, and he can hear you speaking to him. You're kind, and gentle, and he wants for nothing. He has you, and there is nothing more to want.
He dreams he never lost you at all. It makes reality all the more painful.
In a way he knows is pathetic, Childe hopes you at least found him fun. He hopes you found him entertaining, despite how the thought twists his heart and guts into little knots, until he feels vaguely nauseous at the notion. At least then you would have reason to remember him. At least he could say he meant something to you.
In a hidden corner of his room, there sits an altar for you. His wealth as a Harbinger means he has no lack of resources, and so he bejewels the altar until it glimmers even without light. It's obnoxious and opulent to the point of vanity, but he figures that if you like it, he'll earn another whisper of warmth from you— in the vain hope that you hear him at all anymore.
With his hands, now calloused and worn, he carves sigils into whalebone. He doesn't know what they mean, but they were numerous in the abyss; and so he etches them into bone, hoping that whatever they mean, it reaches you.
Childe pushes himself more than he should. His back aches from all the weight he carries on his shoulders, but he trudges forward despite how it hurts. He is more fervent in conflicts, and spectacular scenes of blood and viscera follow him every time he walks onto a battlefield.
His tongue forms words of devotion for the Tsaritsa as he slays another enemy, blood staining his fingers, but in his heart, he only ever speaks of you.
When he fights, Childe can lose himself. He can focus entirely on the movement of his feet, the precision of his blade. He can ignore how badly he misses you, and how in the back of his mind, he desperately hopes that the more blood he sheds with your teachings, you'll find him satisfactory.
Adrenaline rushes through his veins, and once again he lets himself be drowned by the rush, letting himself forget all of his pain.
Childe is proud of the way that no one can recognize his style of fighting. It is exact and sharp— every strike hitting its target with ease, filled with vigor and intensity. He enjoys the gazes of jealousy, but remains silent when asked. My teacher taught me, he says. He sheds no further light on the matter, and any instance someone shows interest in learning from him, he instantly refuses. Childe wishes to keep you close to his chest, a guarded secret known only to him.
Childish, perhaps. He knows it is. But if he can't have you, then he will have the knowledge of you. He will keep it to himself, and there it will stay, safe in his tight grip. 
It drives him insane, the way sees you in everything. When night falls, covering the sky in a blanket of stars, he wonders if you're staring at him from above. When the tides of the sea brush against the shore, he finds himself thinking of you as the moon— you are what anchors him, despite the fact that he hasn't felt you in so long. In his eyes, there is nothing you could not be, and with every breath, he only ever misses you more.
It's during his mission in Liyue that he feels you again. Childe is unable to breathe when he meets the Traveler, sensing you watching from their eyes. His heart thunders in his chest, tempestuous as a storm over the sea.
For a moment, he's happy. You're finally back. He wants nothing more than to run to you, to ask you why you left for so long, to ask how he can make you stay, but then he feels you— a familiar pressure bearing down on him, forcing him to say anything but what he wants to.
Childe watches the Traveler's back fade as it finally clicks for him.
You abandoned him for someone else. You left him... for this. The thought sends him reeling. You left him, just to go spend time with someone else— to give them the same company you gave him, to give them the same guidance you gave him— was he merely replaceable to you?
Was he just a test for you?
He should be angry. And he is, but the heartbreak overwhelms him. He's left choking, battling for air. The agony of having been tossed to the side, of having it be affirmed in front of his eyes. He wants to scream and cry, beg for you to return; but his throat squeezes every time he meets the Traveler, and the words die on his tongue.
You don't want him to speak. He's meant to play along.
Childe had waited for you for so long. Even after all this time, he couldn't get rid of the painful hope that you'd return. He had done his best to bottle his emotions, to keep them shut and locked inside, so that you wouldn't be disappointed in him upon your arrival. Proud that he never doubted you for a moment.
But he had. He had doubted you, cried at the lack of your comfort. Afraid of what it meant to be without you. Fearful of living, never getting to gleam your existence for a second time— and now you want him to pretend as if he never knew you.
As if he can't see the slight smugness in the Traveler's eyes.
His fight with the Traveler is personal. He bares his teeth, snarling like a rabid dog. His every strike is fast, precise with the intent to kill and maim. Childe hopes his emotions reach you, that you know of his bitterness and acrimony. That you know of how long he wished for you, how long he yearned for you to come back— how his frustration has twisted into pure rage, turned into a fine point. 
He just has to simply show you how he's better. He has to show you that he's superior in every way to your choice. That you should've chosen him over them. 
They are undeserving; watch how he rips through them like they are nothing, slicing through them like they are mist over sea. They are unworthy; see how easily he beats them into submission, how easily they crumble at his feet. The matter of the Gnosis is nothing to him, now— only whether you see how he should be the one you prefer. 
It's then that he feels it. Your rage. Your anger at having been battered and bruised. The Traveler stands back up, but something is different now. Their strikes are fluid, prowess and skill increased by an outside force. 
You. 
Do you hate him that badly? Detest him so much, to go so far as to bless another with your strength so they can prove themselves to be his better? Even in his Foul Legacy form, Childe is forced to retreat; forced to bow his head in defeat, weakened by the burden of his transformation.
The realization leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He's done the exact opposite of what he set out to do. All he's proven is that your right.
Childe feels your crushing weight bearing down on him. He spits the words out, calls them 'friend' through clenched teeth. He dances to your whims, just as he had previously. Unnatural, stiff movements and words that speak the opposite of what he means. 
And then you're gone, left along with them. He stares at their fading back. He can almost imagine you beside them, walking by their side just as you once did his. 
It hurts.
The next time he feels you, there is no sign of the Traveler. Only a tight pulling in his chest. 
He doesn't know what it means, or what it entails. But he follows, sensing you at the end, waiting for him. Childe doesn't allow himself to hope; that maybe, you have come around. That maybe you do care. That maybe, you never hated him— not truly. That you missed him just as he missed you. 
Maybe he meant something, after all.
When he reaches you, he feels it. You're happy. You're happy with him. He feels you reaching out, tickling him with strands of your will. You brush against his skin, burrow deep inside. Childe lets you, still unable to breathe.
He wonders if this is really happening. Have you come back to him, truly? Have you finally realized how much better he is? He feels you graze his soul, reaching deep within. Childe feels you envelop him, swathing him in warmth and comfort. 
You're home, you whisper. 
He only hears the ghost of your voice, a chime in the wind; but he hears the intent, the meaning behind your unintelligible words, even though he can't understand them. 
Childe breaks. 
SANGUINE NATUS ; first meeting/as a worshiper
If even just your breath could leave him weak, then seeing you for the first time makes his knees give out underneath him.
It's a foolishly embarrassing display, but Childe can't find it in himself to care. He falls to his knees quicker than his mind can catch up, unconsciously posturing himself to make himself seem as small and harmless as possible— anything to make you stay, even if it means sabotaging his image.
He tucks his shoulders inward, struggling between looking at you until his eyes burn and your image is seared into the back of his eyelids, or averting his gaze because just touching you with them feels like he's sullying you somehow.
His breath comes out short and sharp, his entire chest heaving with each shuddering, raspy exhale. Before he can even manage a sound, he's sobbing, crumpling to the floor— there's no care taken to your perception of him now, only the wailful cries of one lost in the weight of your eyes. Childe knows he's being pathetic, a mess of airy desperation and red eyes; everything he was when he felt the ghost of you leave him, and everything he wished you'd never see. But it's you, and for the first time, he can truly feel your eyes on him.
It's all too much to bear.
"I-It's you, it's you—!" Childe manages to choke, wet tears caking the apples of his face. His eyes strain, burning to see the visage of you through the blur of his vision. Nausea bites at him, his abdomen a sudden storm from the tears that lick at his cheeks.
Childe has always been austere in his worship; strict, solemn in how he acts out every religious rite. There is an icy silence unlike him as he moves, particularly whenever your sanctity is involved. His fingers still tremble despite his stiffness, the desperation loud in every twitch of his limbs. The desire to see you, after all is said and done.
Seeing you for the first time feels as though a wave has overtaken him, drowning him in brine and the cerulean of muddy waters. There is no hiding what he could barely contain before— jerky movements filled with need and the dolor of one disappointed before.
Childe no longer finds himself able to veil it by lies and rushing fights of adrenaline; now, it lies bare, and there's no burning ache to keep it hidden.
His fervor is relentless; a feverish desire to please you coalescing until it's unbearable for his skin. Your reaction to his cries could have been cruel or kind, and it wouldn't have bothered him; all that matters is whether he has finally proven himself worthy of standing by your side.
His worship is eager words spilling from his lips at night, the echo of your name a murmur from his mouth like the sigh of the ocean's waves-- his blades stained red, limp at his sides-- the burning in the back of his throat that comes from years of pleading.
You're here now, even if he can't be with you at all times; and that knowledge leaves him whispering to you, uttering every thought without a moment of reconsideration. It is a ceaseless endeavor, as every word is listless praise and endless adoration. There isn't a moment where he isn't thinking of you in some way, and the mere thought of the opposite leaves him feeling vaguely sick.
He wants to think of you all the time. Though it's such a small thing, in his mind, he has you all to himself— in the sense that there is no one else to take your eyes off of him— there, he can make you happy; there, he can make you proud of him. In that world, you have no reason to be rid of him.
Childe's always kept his habit of crafting you makeshift gifts. They're rugged, imperfect things, but laden with his fingerprints and the palms of his hands. Before, he could only set them still on his altar for you, and hope that it pleased you somehow. He was only ever met with silence, but he could pretend you were happy with him, and the idea alone was enough.
When he catches sight of a sea conch, its pale marks swirled across its smooth surface, he can only think of handing it to you. It's a beautiful thing, and so simple and crude a gift; but maybe you will find worth in such a thing, the simplicity of its nature, and praise him for it.
He gives them to you physically now, unable to shake the urge to do so. His hands always tremble when he hands them over, his knees threatening to buckle underneath him whenever your fingers brush against his. He will never fail to drown in the sensation, allowing everything that he is to become thoughts of you.
Childe has always worshiped you in bloodshed. In the past, he hoped it would leave you satisfied enough to come back; now, it's to prove how much better he is than everyone else. His fear runs deep, like cracks in the earth far below the water's surface, and the sickening feeling of dread whenever you praise someone else suffocates him.
It's unreasonable, he knows, and he has no reason to fear, not anymore— but his heart still quickens at the thought, and his stomach still twists.
It's an all too familiar feeling. When he was first torn from you, he felt as though his heart had been ripped right out of him; and the panic he feels only reminds him of it.
When he's inevitably forced away from you on another mission, he deals with it as quickly as possible, no matter how bloodied or bruised he leaves it. He is brutally unkind in his workings, his words always terse and clipped; a slight edge that never really seems to go away until he knows you're somewhere nearby.
It's when he's forced to stay away from you for a longer period of time that he breaks completely. Upon his return, he is instantly back at your side, heaving sobs and ugly tears running down his face. He can barely think, and a flurry of slurred words leaves his lips— begging to never leave your side again.
Childe knows better than to think he is deserving of your kindness, but he’s desperate to at least stay in your shadow. There, he could stay near you, even if he was swathed in black— even if his only glimpse of you was your back, he would be in bliss. To be near you in some form is all he could ever ask of you.
For all of the power you have granted him, it's only right that he use it for you. A mere word from anyone that isn't pure praise has his grip on his weapon tightening, the tendons on his hand taut and his knuckles pale. He remains entirely oblivious to any moral ambiguity in your actions— whatever you do is right and just; as you are the only one worthy of judging yourself, he does not dare too.
Instead, Childe draws his blade in judgement of others— he will act as your hand and executioner, the arbiter of your faith; it's with only vigor that he hands out punishment, a ferocity bold and true.
AMANS IN SPINIS IACET ; as your lover
Childe's dreams have begun to take a sudden turn.
It's not anything he can control, despite how hard he tries too. They pleased him at first, even though he still couldn't help the way his heart tightened at the idea of you somehow knowing. At that time, they weren't occurring enough for him to be worried, and the content themselves were innocent enough for him to think nothing of it.
You held him close to you, pressing benign kisses across his freckled cheeks, playing with his hair with soft fingers; little things that he could believe meant nothing at all, just a desire to feel your affection in the only way his mortal heart knew how.
The dreams turn nightly, and Childe finally realizes it's much more than that.
It begins at signs of your favoritism. Glances that last more than they should, summoning him to your chambers more frequently; Childe does not deny you, and he can't help the faint giddiness that clouds his mind every time he feels your gaze linger on him. It's a euphoric sensation to know that he is the one you are looking at; no one else. Only barely does he manage to rein in his emotions every time.
You speak much softer to him, and your touch is more affectionate. He turns drunk on your approval, willingly dancing to your whims if it meant having your fingers coiled in his hair for another moment. Before he can stop himself for even daring to think it, Childe lets himself believe he's special to you— and that is where the problem arises.
The thoughts don't stop. Even if he screams to drown out the noise, they still manage to be so loud. The dreams are relentless, more loving, more vivid. He can feel the warmth of your palms as you caress his cheeks, the weight of your breath when you draw your head near; they feel so real, that for a moment, he thinks you're the one sending them to him.
He feels as though he's dirtying you in some form, as if he is the one committing an unforgivable sin against you; somehow managing to desecrate you with just his thoughts alone. The idea sends him into a panic-induced frenzy, kneeling before his altar with rushed, unintelligible apologies on his lips.
Despite his self-hatred, whenever he wakes from one, Childe is left blissfully dazed, nuzzling into his pillow with hazy clarity— pretending that it's you, instead. He wonders what it would be like if his dreams were real, if he could really be so special to you in such a way; entirely irreplaceable, entirely yours.
It doesn't take long for his will to be eroded by his desperation. His desire to resist was already hanging by a thread, and as the dreams persist, any resistance on his end is lost. He falls ever deeper into an abyss of his own making, allowing himself to be undone by his own creation.
Childe has always been needy, but as his feelings rear their ugly head, it only grows worse. He has always loved you— and he had been struggling to choke his own feelings down for as long as he could, fooling himself into believing that they didn't exist in the first place. In his eyes, it's only right that you be the one to shake the foundation he lay; making him crumble until every dark part of himself is laid bare in front of you, only for your eyes.
There's a drastic increase in his desperation to be near you, and any lack of refusal on your part only exacerbates it. He neglects his duties entirely in favor of staying by you in some way or another, be it either by your side, or following you from a distance like a lost puppy.
Your admittance of feelings only makes Childe more fervent. He can barely hear himself speak, his heart fluttering against his ribcage like a caged canary. He can barely believe anything you're saying, and for a moment, he wonders if he's lost in another dream of his.
At your assurance, Childe doesn't dare to doubt you any longer. He falls entirely into you, allowing you to consume his every thought. He doesn't think to fight back, letting you envelop him until his every breath is coated in your name. He is yours, and he has no desire for anything more.
His desire for your approval now emboldens him. Childe's always acted out of an interest in garnering your attention, and though he now knows of your feelings, it does nothing to satiate him; instead, it leaves him hungrier, greedy with an eagerness to please.
He doesn't take from you without asking, but he asks enough for it to be a nuisance. Your affection is everything to him, and he can't bear to go a moment without it. He asks to lay his head in your lap, for you to play with his hair— the loss of your touch is the loss of himself, and sends him reeling back to memories of when he was without you.
The first time you kiss him, his legs instantly give out underneath him, a small groan leaving his lips. Childe doesn't bother to dull his reactions; you deserve to know how easily weakened he is by your touch, with even a brush of your fingers enough to leave him breathless and wanting.
As your favorite, Childe is quick to be rid of any competition. Whether or not you see them as possible suitors doesn't even cross his mind— the fear that snakes around his heart is ever-present, and if they're better than him in some form, it only grows in persistence. He doesn't hurt them, because surely that would upset you, and any devotee of you is worthy of respect— but he is quick to showcase his superiority, and to do so broadly without shame.
Childe grows used to his new status, and uses it to stay by your side constantly. Any attention you give to others is met with instant jealousy, seething glares sent to whoever stole your gaze, even if they only preoccupied a second of your mind.
He could never be mad at you, as clearly the fault lies within himself.
Any signs of your likes and dislikes are instantly noted. If you compliment someone for their behavior, he begins to emulate it, or at least he tries too. If you like Zhongli for how well he executes your orders, then Childe will be the same; only he will do it better, quicker, and prove himself still deserving of your love.
If he were perfect, then you would have no need for anyone else. If he were perfect, he would never have to worry about whether you'll grow bored of him the moment he stops being entertaining enough.
The thought of you with another leaves Childe sick without fail. He knows he has no control over you, and that if you wished to be rid of him, he would willingly walk into whatever punishment awaited him— but now that he has tasted what it feels like to be so utterly yours, he can't bear to imagine another sharing the same treatment.
You kissing another, holding another, letting someone else lay against you; all of it only serves to further blur his vision. Even if it is sinful of him to feel, he can't stop the emotions from swirling in his chest.
You are everything; the earth laid beneath his feet, the foundation of which he relies on. To be without you is to fall, to be without you means death; and if he must carve his skin and bone to fit the picture you want him to be, then he shall.
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
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Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!
Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.
Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 
The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 
But this time, the summoning feels different.
Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.
“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 
“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”
Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.
“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”
“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.
“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”
“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 
For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.
“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 
“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 
The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.
“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”
The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.
The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 
His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”
And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”
The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 
Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”
The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”
“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”
Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.
A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”
“Hold up that book for me, please?”
She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.
“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.
“Is there a problem, Great One?”
Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.
“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”
“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.
“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”
Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.
Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.
“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”
Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”
“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 
“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”
“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”
“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.
He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”
“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”
“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.
“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.
“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”
Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”
“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”
“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”
“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”
“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”
The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”
“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”
She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”
“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.
Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”
“But you accepted.”
“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 
It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.
“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 
He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.
He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.
Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.
Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 
“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”
“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”
“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”
Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”
“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.
Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.
They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 
Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.
“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.
It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.
Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”
Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”
“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”
“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”
Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”
He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—
“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”
Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”
They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.
“...Put it off until tomorrow?”
Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”
“Sounds perfect.”
. . .
[send me a ghostlights prompt!]
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constantinerkives · 10 months
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PAIRING: Hotel Magnate! Yoo Jimin x College student! Fem reader _____________ WARNINGS: Sugar Mommy AU, college AU, age gap, OC is in her final year of college while YJM is 34, profanity, strangers to paramours, Chopard and Cannes Film Festival Karina, good lord. OC has a slight crush on the dean lmao. OC short-circuits when pretty, older women talk to her. Smut, oral (K receiving), strap-on sex (reader receiving), Dom! Karina, mommy kink, OC ain't a virgin, riding, rough sex, cock-warming, or was it strap-warming? (IDK, but you catch my drift, yeah?), shower sex, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, use of a vibrator, pool sex, biting, marking, fingering, that's pretty much it, I think. _____________ WORDCOUNT: 14.7K Sorry, this was self-indulgent yall, my bad💀🤩 _____________ A/N:
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You asked; I shall deliver. Oh - and please see the header for synopsis and turn on your sound hehe.
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"Ning Yizhou, what the fuck-"
"Shut up and listen, will you?" She cuts you off with a glare and turns her MacBook screen towards you. "You need this." 
You clamp your mouth shut and allow the younger girl to continue. The ash-blonde girl takes a seat across from you and shows you a site from the internet. You sit before the latter with the pads of your fingers tapping against your thighs. Ningning observes you warily before knotting her fingers together. "After hearing your rants for months about how the school's kicking both your ass and wallet, I propose a solution." 
"By being a sugar baby," You snort. She shoots you a silencing look. "Let me finish, Y/N." 
 She shows you her profile, "This website is safe, and it strictly monitors the chats of both parties. It is consensual and beneficial for person A and person B." She then shows you her chat with her sponsor; the profile read: Uchinaga Giselle. If your memory serves you correctly, she is the managing director of AE Industries, a definition of young, rich, and beautiful. "Woah, your sugar mommy is Giselle?"
Ningning's lips curl to a smirk, "Focus, Y/N. Have you read our conversation?"
"Yes," Your eyes skim the chat, "It's respectful and direct." 
"Exactly," She grins and closes her MacBook. "Not all stories involving a life like this are scary, Y/N." Your friend presses a palm against her chest, "Like me, for example." 
"Yeah, yeah," You sigh and lower your head, "I don't know, Ning." Her features soften as her hand reaches yours, her thumb rubbing comforting circles against the back of your palm. 
"Some sugar mommies or daddies want to fill the void of being rich Y/N. Some want to soothe their overbearing parents, and some just have too much fucking money. They're mature and won't force you to do something you're not comfortable with for the sake of being spoiled in return." 
You contemplated for a moment before curling your lips to a smile. "Fuck it, Ning. I'm in." Your friend grins and opens her MacBook. "Leave your profile to me, Y/N. And pick a dress you'll be using for the ceremony. You need to look fresh for tomorrow." Right. Before this discussion with Ningning, you received an email from Hanyang University that you're a dean's lister for the second semester. 
"Thanks, Ning." You stand from the table and make your way to her room. 
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"Y/N!" Minjeong squeals upon seeing your familiar figure as more awardees enter the venue, "I'm relieved! I thought I was going to be alone with strangers for the ceremony." 
"Not anymore," You grin and crane your neck to examine the students on the premises. "Are we the only ones from our block?" 
She follows your example and hums, "Seems like it, and - oh shit, the dean's heading this way!" You snap your head and lock eyes with the dean of your department. An automatic smile curls on your lips as you acknowledge her presence by bowing your head. "Miss Kim, Seol," The older woman greets with her slender digits knotted atop her stomach. 
"Good evening, Miss Bae." You greet in return. Bae Joohyun, professionally known as Irene Bae, is the dean of your department. The woman couldn't be older than forty, fair-skinned, doe-shaped eyes framing sharp, intelligent obsidian-hued pupils, an upturned nose, a small face, and pink, plump lips. The dean is sporting a mint blue suit and white heels, and her long black hair tied in a low ponytail. The older woman's lips curl upward, "I see that it's only the two of you again from your block," She comments while you and Minjeong look at each other, uncertain. "And I'm impressed," Irene adds. You glow under her praise, "Thank you, Miss Bae." 
The latter hums, "Do enjoy the celebration." 
With that, she walks past you and Winter. You caught a whiff of the older woman's scent and let out a blissful sigh as you stagger. "Damn," Winter exhales as her head follows the older woman's slender figure, "If she wasn't the dean, I don't mind being smashed by her." 
"Agree," You giggled as you watched the older woman interact with her faculty. "I guess I have a reason to study my ass off." 
Then your stomach churns uncomfortably as an unpleasant thought voices your concern. 
That is if you have the money to enroll for the final semester.
Blood drains from your body, and your smile drops. "I should find a job that should sustain me." You mutter under your breath as another feminine voice interjects: "Minjeong!" You snap from your reverie and raise your head. You spot Chaewon standing next to Yunjin and Ryujin; gesturing a hand to Winter, who looks at you with a small smile, "I'll hang around with them, yeah?" Her tone indicates permission, and you snort at her. "You don't need to ask for my approval, Winter. Go." 
The latter guffaws and pats your shoulder, "Have a nice evening, Y/N." With that, she leaves to join the group. 
You sigh, and your posture droops as your eyes scour your surroundings. Your vision dims at the sight of extravagance oozing from your peers and faculty. You clench and unclench your hands to calm your racing nerves before the voices behind your head speak up: You don't belong here. 
And you painfully agree. How the hell did you manage to keep up? 
"Excuse me, miss," Your ears perk upon hearing an unfamiliar deep yet feminine voice. Sultry and alluring. "But have you seen Joohyun?"
Joohyun? Your brows furrow. How can someone say the dean's name so casually? 
You turn in the direction of the stranger, and your eyes subtly widen at the sight of the towering beauty behind you. Your eyes take in her appearance. Her long black hair was styled; slid back, allowing you to have a good glimpse at her smooth, fair countenance, familiar doe-shaped eyes framing those sharp, intelligent hazel-colored crevices. You mentally pick your jaw from the floor. 
"Joohyun?" Your voice came out as a squeak, and you fought the urge to palm your face. "You mean our dean?"
A playful grin curls on her plump lips, "Yes," Her hazel-colored eyes scour your features, "And my," She purrs, "Aren't you a beauty?" Your cheeks warmed as the woman continued: "I should count myself lucky for asking a pretty girl like you." A subtle shade of pink dust your cheeks as you clear your throat softly, "Thank you," You muse as you shift your weight from one foot to another. "How may I help you?"
"I'm looking for-"
"Karina," Your posture straightens upon hearing her authoritative voice. Irene takes a stand beside you. Her face turns in your direction with slight surprise before she regains her calm countenance and returns her gaze to the said stranger: Karina. 
"I see that you've met one of my students," The dean gestures a hand towards the raven-haired beauty. "Y/N, meet my..." She trails off before Karina's lips release a deep chuckle, shivers run down your spine, and your stomach churns at the sound. "Don't be shy now, Hyunnie." 
Hyunnie? 
Karina holds out her hand for you to shake, "I'm Karina Bae, her half-sister. And you are?" 
Half-sister? 
Oh
That explains the familiar features, and if you have to compare the two of them by age, Karina seems to be ten years younger than the older woman next to you. But still, both women are drop-dead gorgeous. They won the battle of genes. 
"Seol Y/N," You reply in a trance as you reach to shake her hand, expecting a handshake, but she surprises you by bringing it up to brush her mouth against your knuckles, a shock traveling up your arm at the contact. Her eyes never leave yours, and you hold your breath, afraid you'll do something embarrassing if you do. Hopefully, your face doesn't show how the action flustered you. You gawk at her as she releases your hand. 
"A pleasure, Y/N." Your body glows at the way her tongue smoothly caresses your name. It's embarrassing how quick you are to succumb to the younger Bae. You instinctively look away from her raving eyes as the dean clears her throat. 
"Easy, Karina." The dean chides, "She's my student," 
A heart-throbbing smile graces Karina's lips, "Anyways," She raises a paper bag. Was she holding something all this time? How come you didn't notice? "As you can see, sister. I just returned from France," The hazel-eyed beauty hands it to her, "And I bought a present." 
You eye the two of them, feeling as though you're intruding on a moment between the siblings. Irene's lips curl upwards and takes the paperbag, "You shouldn't have, Karina. Is that why you came here?"
"Of course," Karina grins, "I can't come back to my alma mater empty-handed now, can I?" 
"Thank you, Karina." 
The latter merely hums in reply, "I'll get going now. There's no need for me to stay if a party lacks drinks." She grins while Irene rolls her eyes. "It's protocol," 
"Sure," Karina turns to you, "Take care, Miss Seol." 
Perhaps she was waiting for you to hold your hand out again, but your brain decided that risking another touch from this gorgeous woman would have undesirable consequences. A wave sufficed for now.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Karina." 
You were wrong. Karina doesn't even have to��touch you to get you woozy. Her wolfish smirk was enough to make your knees wobble. She departs, leaving your eyes to follow her lithe physique. 
"I apologize on her behalf," The older Bae announces, and you move your gaze to her. You gulped. "She isn't usually like this. Perhaps staying in Paris rewired her behavior." You shake your head sideways, "It's fine Miss Bae. Have a wonderful evening," You tell her before bowing and departing from the dean. 
Ningning automatically bombards you with her findings while you are at the ceremony. 
"So your account has been receiving DMs," She grins with pride beaming in her delicate features as she slides you a takeout from her favorite fast-food chain, "All you have to do is to go through it with a fine-tooth comb and take your pick." She slides the MacBook in your direction, and your eyes widen at the number of requests. 
"Woah," You mumble, feeling overwhelmed. Your friend catches on and sits next to you. "You don't have to make a choice overnight. You can scour it whenever you're free." 
And that's what you did. 
You spent your lunchtime and break times scouring the site for your potential benefactor. 
For days, no one caught your eye, until a woman popped up on your screen. 
Yoo Jimin
You clicked on her profile, half of her face was hidden, but those plump lips, the lighting, and the prominent collarbones beneath the lapels of her blazer pulled you to dig deeper into her account. You press the photo where she is leaning her back against the gold railing of Hotel Olympia. Jimin was wearing a form-fitting black dress showing off her slender figure. On her hand was a champagne glass and the closest glimpse of her side profile; absolute perfection. You let out a huff and close your eyes to steel your nerves before typing:
Hello
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"Ning, what are we doing here?" You inquire the younger girl as she drags you into Givenchy's boutique, the employees eyeing you warily as the latter scrutinizes the boutique before looking at you with a familiar smile.
"We're shopping for your outfit next week," If your face showed surprise, you hid it poorly. You lean close to whisper against Ningning's ear. "In here?"
The ash-blonde shoots you a look. "Duh?"
"It's expensive!"
"It's fine-"
"What can I do for you ladies?" Ningning turns to the employee and smiles, "I made an appointment three hours ago under Giselle Uchinaga's name." The older woman hums as your friend continues, "Send us your best attires for a date night for my friend-" She gestures a hand towards you, "What's your size?"
You gawk at her as the employee looks at you expectantly, "Uhm-"
"Tell her," Ningning commands, the look on her face gave no heed to protests.
You blurt out your size, and the lady nods and turns to your friend, "We'll look for her size. In the meantime do enjoy the private suite located to the left corner of our store." She gestures an open palm to one of the five private booths. Ningning seemed pleased by the suggestion and thanked the woman before grasping your wrist and dragging you to your assigned booth.
"Yizhou-"
"If you're worried about paying back, don't worry about it." She cuts you off as she grabs one of Givenchy's brochures presented on the table. "Besides," She tears her gaze from the material, "You need to look presentable for your meeting with your sugar mommy."
You purse your lips. After interacting with your benefactor for two days, you finally agreed to meet to discuss the nature of your relationship with her. She gave you the freedom to dress in whatever clothing you want, so long as you'll style it with a white scarf. That way, she'd be able to identify you and not cause any misunderstanding. Ningning pats a spot next to her on the velvet couch, "Be comfortable, Y/N. I'm here."
"This is new territory to me, Nings." You confess while rubbing your nape. The younger girl's expression softens as you sit next to her. The ash-blonde-haired girl drapes a slender arm around your shoulders. "You don't have to pay me back, Y/N." She tells you solemnly, "I take pleasure in knowing that you'll look good in your first meeting because I was there to ensure that you'll give a good impression. Now don't worry about the price tags. Gigi is aware and is willing to extend her generosity because she knows I'm friends with you, and we've been together through thick and thin."
"Gigi?" You teased with a smile, and she winked at you. Before she can say anything else, there's a knock on the double doors.
You fix your posture as your friend tells them to come in.
On cue, three women entered the room. Two of them were delicately guiding the cloth rack inside while one pushed a tray of shoes, bags, and accessories. Your jaw slacks at the collection.
"These are our finest collections," One of them declares with a smile, "Feel free to choose which ones you like." Without another word, they exit the booth, leaving you and your friend alone. "Okay," Ningning stands from her couch and approaches the dresses and takes one that caught her eye, and presents it to you. "Try this one first."
After trying on different types of attires for an excruciating hour, you found a dress you and Ningning agree on.
"Finally!" She grins as she circles you, inspecting the dress. You stare at your reflection, unable to recognize the lady in the mirror. It's a black, leather one-shoulder draped dress; it hugs your body perfectly. "It goes well when your hair is down." She notes and looks at the shoes, "Okay. Let's try shoes."
Unlike the dresses, the shoes were easier to match with your dress: Voyou slingbacks, or just quintessential black leather heels. The same goes for the small pouch just for your phone and cash to take you to Hotel Olympia, the destination of your first meeting.
"Perfect," Ningning awes, "This will be your look for your meeting." She locks eyes with your reflection, "Do you like it?"
"Yes," You breathe, and she claps her hands in delight. "We're taking it." The latter then eyes at the accessories, "One last!" She snatches a white silk twill scarf with beveled ends and styles it around your neck.
Now you don't recognize the girl in the mirror. You eye her with awe as you run a free hand from the top of your neck; down to your chest. The reflection inclines her head to the side.
You are going to be this girl next week, and you can only hope that your attire alone can coax your potential benefactor to sponsor you.
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The ride from Hanyang University to Hotel Olympia is twenty minutes. 
Upon entering the hotel, the biting chill nips your skin, eliciting a shudder from you, and with your free hand, you rub your bare arm. No one seems to mind your presence. 
"Should've brought a jacket," You shudder, and a voice behind your head interjects:
But as if any of your jackets can match your attire. 
A snort leaves your lips as you scour the lobby of the hotel. 
Hotel Olympia is the largest hotel group in all of Korea with Lotte trailing behind them. Your eyes scour the area for the front desk and lock eyes with the hotel receptionist. With a smile, you approach the employee. 
"Good evening, miss." She greets, "Is there anything you need?"
"Yes," You clear your throat to steel your nerves while your feet tap against the polished marble floors. "Can you point me to Bicena Olympia?"
She fixes her posture and gestures a palm towards one of the double doors to your left. "Through that door." You follow the direction of her hand and bow at the older woman, "Thank you." Shuddering, you enter Bicena Olympia: the restaurant of Hotel Olympia: white, clean walls, cloud-like chandeliers, polished saddle-brown floorboards, and elegant yet comfortable furniture; to add life to the restaurant: it's decorated with carefully selected plants and priceless paintings. Guests from all over the country fill the walls of the restaurant with hushed chatter, laughter, the cluttering of utensils, and the clinking of champagne glasses. 
"Excuse me, miss." One of the restaurant's staff approaches you. A man, no older than twenty-five, sporting a neatly pressed suit. His hair: gelled and slid back. "Do you have a reservation?"
"Oh, yes - for Miss Yoo." 
The gentleman nods, and folds his hands behind his back, "Follow me." He turns and strides toward one of the vacant tables - you follow behind him as he pulls out a seat for you. "Thank you," You tell the man before he bows and returns to his podium. 
According to Jimin, she'll be joining you shortly. She's caught up in a meeting. You take this opportunity to fix your appearance via your phone's camera. 
From the entrance of Bicena Olympia, there emerged a woman no older than thirty-four, wearing a black long Cady dress with a plunging neckline, exposing the valley of her breast down to an inch above her navel and white heels. Her hair is styled straight and loose, and at the base of her neck lay a single gold chain necklace, emphasizing her prominent collarbones. Her right hand secures a shoulder bag, while the other, a neatly pressed, double-breasted tailored coat with red lapels.
Her hazel-colored eyes scour the restaurant, looking for a college girl with a white scarf. 
Your nails tap against the tablecloth as you wait patiently for your date, ignoring the biting chill that keeps brushing against your skin. You felt a presence behind you, wondering if it's a waiter you crane your neck - only to be stopped when you feel someone draping a thick piece of cloth over your shoulders. Hands grasping your shoulders delicately. 
"Oh-"
"Thank you for waiting, darling." Your skin tingles as you look up, pupils dilating, jaw-slacking as a familiar woman with hazel-colored eyes locks with yours; they light up with mirth as her plump, red lips curl to a bemused smile. 
"You," You breathe, inhaling her subtle but expensive perfume. The scent is so intoxicating and warm. With notes of coffee, white flowers, and vanilla, it's the perfect mix of sexy and sweet. It suits her. 
"Good evening to you too, Miss Seol." Karina chuckles deeply. Your stomach twinges blissfully at the sound as you shift beneath her intense gaze. Oh, wait - she remembers your name? Oh, lord. 
"Good evening, Karina." You stammer as one of her hands plays with your scarf. She hums absentmindedly and takes a seat across from you and as she did, your eyes shamelessly follow her graceful physique. 
Holy shit, she looks hot-
"This is a pleasant surprise," Karina starts as she knots her fingers together and shoots you a playful smile. Your cheeks dust pink. "I didn't expect to see Joohyun's pretty student so soon." 
And you didn't expect to have your potential benefactor as your dean's half-sister, either. Shit. 
"And I you, Yoo Jimin." You counter and mirror her smile. The older woman guffaws, but you didn't miss her eyes wandering from your face to your attire, and your skin tingles at her attention. "You look wonderful, Y/N." She puts her bag to the side of the table. "Are you hungry?"
Your stomach growls, and your cheeks flush as you sheepishly rub the back of your neck. "Yes - I'm hungry." 
A knowing smile graces the older girl's lips as she directs her gaze to the person behind you and nods. "Dinner's on me, Y/N. Order what you like."
A waiter immediately comes to her and distributes the menu. Karina swiftly opens it, her hazel eyes scouring her options before looking up at the waiter. "I'll take a steakhouse-style ribeye." She shifts her gaze toward you, "And for the lady?"
Your lips swiftly moved the meal that Ningning suggested for you to order:
"I'll take the balsamic-and-rosemary-marinated florentine steak." An approving look dances on the older woman's face as the waiter jots it. "How about your drinks?"
Karina looks at you, beckoning you to order first. 
"A cranberry mocktail," The waiter nods and turns his attention to the other woman, "And as for you, President Bae?"
Hold on a minute - president?
"A Sauvignon Blanc," A grin breaks from the waiter's lips, "Excellent choice, President Bae." He takes a step back. "I'll come back with your orders in approximately 40 minutes." Without another word, the man bows and strides away from your table. 
"President?" You muse as a smirk creeps on the latter's lips. "Surprise, surprise." Karina picks up her empty wine glass and examines it. You watch her intently. "I'm sure you have questions." Her eyes suddenly dart back to you, and your skin crawls. "Ask ahead, darling." 
You purse your lips, "The waiter called you president," You tread carefully, "Are you, by chance, the president of Hotel Olympia?"
"Clever girl," She purrs, and you shrink in your seat, "Yes, Y/N. I'm the president of Hotel Olympia." Damn.
She gestures for you to ask again. You clear your throat, "The name you used in your account, why use Yoo Jimin?"
Karina hums, "Yoo Jimin was the name my mother initially thought of before Irene's father changed it. They still let me keep it for casual occasions that aren't related to business." 
Your lips form to an 'o' as Karina leans close, "Is that all?"
"Yes," 
"If that's the case," She puts down her empty wine glass, "What about you, Y/N?"
A playful smile tugs your lips, "What do you want to know?"
"Your information, likes, dislikes." 
You followed through with her request, telling her everything she has to know, and the woman paid attention to every word you said. And it feels odd having someone like her listen to a girl of your caliber. 
"-I'll sponsor you," She finalizes. 
You gape at her, "Really?"
"Of course, princess." You nearly threw yourself out of the chair as your hands gripped your purse as she continued: 
"You're a catch, Y/N." She admits with honesty brewing in her eyes, "And something tells me that you're someone who must be kept at high maintenance. And I'm here for it. You chose me out of all the women out there, and you chose well." 
Your face warms at her praise as Karina leans close, "So, pretty girl, will you be mine to spoil in return for your time?"
And who are you to deny her?
"Yes," You breathily answer, and the older woman approves with a wolfish grin. "Perfect,"
And speaking of perfect- 
"Excuse me, President Bae." The waiter returns with a tray of your ordered steaks. The older woman leans back, giving them space as they distribute your meal and your drinks. Setting it down on the table, he straightened up, but not without opening the wine and pouring it into her wine glass. 
"Do enjoy your meal," 
"Wait," Karina held up her hand, halting the server before reaching into her bag. Sliding a small roll of bills out, he pulled at least five of them free to hand over. "Thank you, President Bae." Judging by the way his smile brightened, it must've been an enormous amount as the server bows deeply before leaving.
Karina snaps you back to reality by motioning to your plate. "Dig in, sweetheart, and if you want to eat anything else, speak up - it's all on me." She grins as she picks up her glass by the stem and swirls it. You watch as the liquid sloshes while the woman inhales her wine before taking light sips and releasing a sigh of contentment. Noticing your stare, she snaps her gaze to yours. You quickly look away with pink dusting your cheeks, and the older woman's lips curl to a smirk. "Say, do you have plans this weekend?"
You bring your attention back to her, recounting your plans and finding none. 
"No, I don't have plans this weekend, Karina." You blink, "May I ask why?"
"You'll see," The raven-haired beauty grins, "Enjoy your dinner, Y/N." 
Your jaw slacks upon stopping before the boutique of Patek Philippe. Karina stands beside you and puts her hand on the small area of your back. Despite her coat hanging on your shoulders, a mild shiver runs down your spine. "Come, Y/N." She beckons gently as she leads you inside the boutique. 
You stand there while the retail clerk and your benefactor talk, unsure of what to contribute to their discussion, and finally, the sales clerk gestures a hand towards the three models displayed inside a glass casing. 
"There are only three of them in the world," She proudly begins, "And it just so happens that our branch won all three of them in the auction, President Bae." Karina turns to you with a kind smile, "Pick whatever you want, sweetheart." 
The sales clerk expectantly looks at you. You snap your head to the display of watches before looking back at Karina, "Is this okay with you?"
"Consider this a sign of our beneficial partnership, darling." She goes behind you. Your breath hitches as her snake past the coat and traverses to your waist, delicate yet firm as she presses her front against your back. Karina drops her voice an octave lower, sending goosebumps trailing in her wake as she husks: 
"So choose," 
Fuck, you bite your lower lip, trying to focus while the older woman's hands rest on your hips, gently squeezing them. 
 "That one," You stammer as you point to the two-toned watch. The older woman smirks from behind as she moves to the side, leaving your back cold and aching for her warmth. "Excellent choice, miss." The sales clerk grins before shifting her gaze to your benefactor. "I'll just prepare some paperwork, and then she can wear it." 
It didn't take long for the transaction to be processed. By the time the three of you reached the counter, Karina pulled out her wallet. You watch, as her well-manicured hand gracefully takes out a JP Morgan Reserve credit card made of laser-etched palladium and gold and hands it to the register. Seconds later, Karina's sitting while the retail clerk assists you with the watch. 
"There you go," The clerk beams while you study the accessory. 
Patek Philippe reinterprets the design of its most complicated wristwatch by offering it for the first time in a "two-tone" version combining white gold and rose gold, along with brown opaline dials. The watch is accompanied by white gold cufflinks featuring a brown opaline center adorned with a hand-guilloched hobnail pattern and a rose gold Calatrava cross. 
It's beautiful, elegant, and practical. 
"What do you think, Y/N?" You turn to the latter and smile warmly at her with gratitude swimming in your eyes. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Karina."
The wealthy woman returns your smile and stands up. She holds out her arm for you, beckoning for you to intertwine your hand on her arm, and you happily indulge her as she leads you to the exit with the clerk trailing behind and bowing as you two leave the store. You examine the watch again with a small smile dancing on your lips. 
"Beautiful," Karina praises, and you tear your eyes from your watch and lock eyes with the hazel-eyed beauty. "Yeah, it is beautiful."
"I mean you," She grins, and your cheeks warmed. "But yes, I agree the watch is beautiful." 
Bemused, you asked her: "Are you this flirty with someone you just met?"
The older woman shakes her head sideways, "No, pretty girl." You freeze as she reaches to brush a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "I meant what I said." 
Eyes wide like a dear caught in headlights, your face flushes, and you clear your throat as you step back. Karina smirks, amused by your reaction, before looking at her wristwatch. 
"Oh, my," She returns her gaze to you. "Didn't you say that the university dorm closes at 10 PM?"
"Yes," Your stomach drops as you instinctively look at the time. 
9:35 PM
"Shit," You mutter under your breath. 
"I'll drive you there," She chimes as she reaches for her bag. "I'll call my secretary." 
Before you can say anything, she already has her secretary on the line. 
"Yes, we'll drive her back to Hanyang University." Karina turns to you, "It isn't safe for her to return there alone. Yes, we'll meet by the entrance of the hotel, have the car ready." With that, she ends the call and turns to you, and raises her arm, as if to escort you. "Come, Y/N. Our ride awaits." 
Elated, you intertwine your arm with hers as she leads you to the entrance of the Hotel Olympia's building, where a sleek black Rolls-Royce car is waiting with a short-haired brunette no older than twenty-seven leaning against the passenger door. 
"Good evening, Miss Bae." The secretary turns her head to you and regards you with a bow. "Miss Seol." 
Karina opens the passenger door for you. "Let's go, darling."
Twenty-three minutes later, Karina's car parked near the entrance of the university dorm. 
"Thanks again, Karina." You bashfully tell her as you take the coat off your shoulders and hand it back to her. The older woman takes it with a smile while her secretary focuses her eyes in front. And just before you open the door, your eyes widen as your body numbs as you turn to her, Karina tilts her head, her gorgeous face contorts with curiosity. "What is it, darling? Did you forget something?"
"No," You clear your throat, "No. I forgot to ask this earlier, but, what about your sister?"
She quirks a brow, bemused. "What about her, sweetheart?"
"What if she finds out?"
The older woman exhales softly and scooches next to you as she puts her hand behind your back. A mild shiver couldn’t help but run down your spine, thanks to her fingertips gliding along your exposed skin. You almost forgot that your dress was semi-backless. 
"I'll still sponsor you, darling." Her lips curl upward, "Our arrangement doesn't concern her. We're consenting adults aren't we?"
You nod in agreement and she pats your back gently, "Good. Oh, and before I forget, send me your bank account and other apps you use for monetary transactions in the morning, yeah?"
"I will," A grin escapes your lips as she retracts her hand, and you open the passenger door, but before closing it, Karina calls out to you. 
"Oh, and Y/N?"
"Yes?" You breathe as she leans close enough for you to see her lashes, "Have a nice evening. I had fun." 
"You too," You lean away, "I had fun too." When you finally close the door, you turn away from the vehicle and stride toward your dorm with a smile that is raised on its own on your lips. 
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You curse as your phone pings with notifications of Karina sending you $50,000. 
"Woah," Ningning grins as she leans away with you as more students file through the lecture hall. "Told you it worked like a charm!" You mirror her grin as she playfully swats your arm and drops her voice to a whisper. "So, who is she?"
You drop your head, "The Hotel Magnate of Hotel Olympia." 
The latter's jaw slacked, "Karina?" She blinks, "As in Karina Bae? The half-sister of our dean?"
"Hush!" 
She gasps, "Holy shit, Y/N. What if her sister finds out?"
You rest the side of your face against your palm while the other hand toys with your pen. "She said she'll still sponsor me," A small smile curves your lips as you look at Ningning as you repeat Karina's words from last night: 
"Our arrangement doesn't concern her. We're consenting adults, aren't we?"
The latter hums as she takes out her MacBook, "So are you guys exclusive or?" Your brows furrowed. Come to think of it...you look down at your watch. "I don't know. I didn't specify." The ash-blonde-haired girl hums, "It's safe to assume that you are unless you clarify it." She boots up her device and frowns as your peer's chatter amplifies. 
"Professor Jung is late." 
Your brows raise as you turn to the vacant teacher's table, "That's a first." 
Ningning shrugs, "Doesn't matter. We have free time - wanna grab a coffee-"
"Settle down students!" An authoritative voice booms inside the lecture hall, immediately silencing them. Your body bristles as the dean's slender figure enters the classroom sporting a matching black pleat short jacket and slit skirt that reaches below her knees and black heels. 
"Holy shit," Ningning snickers as she turns to look at you while the dean puts her clicker atop the desk. "Since Professor Jung is dealing with a personal emergency, I will teach in his stead." She raises her head, and your eyes lock with hers for a brief moment. 
Your posture stiffens as she turns her body towards you, "Miss Seol, tell me, what was your last discussion with Mr. Jung?" 
Your friend nudges her elbow against yours. You shoot her a look before standing up while she hides her smile as you inform Irene of your last discussion with the professor. 
"Very well," She turns and clicks on the projector, "Thank you, Miss Seol. Be seated."
An inaudible sigh of relief leaves your lips as you sit down. Your friend leans close to you with a shit-eating grin as she whispers:
"Chill, Y/N, you look like a sinner sweating inside a church." 
You nudge her side and hiss quietly at her: "Shut up." she just stuck her tongue out to you and you roll your eyes at her in response as the dean's voice fills the lecture hall, continuing Professor Jung's lesson.
Thirty minutes in, and your phone vibrates inside your pocket. You sneakily take a peek to see who it was: 
Karina
And she was asking if you want to have lunch with her if you're not busy. 
You're not
You fought the urge to smile as you reply with yes. 
She'll pick you up ten minutes after your class with the dean. 
"Gigi invited me to have lunch with her," Ningning says as she gathers her things. "That means you have to find a replacement for me as your lunch buddy."
"It's fine," You tell her as you pack your things and sling them over your new bag. "Karina invited me to have lunch with her too."
"Nice," The latter grins. "So, see you after lunch?"
"See you after lunch."
"Oh," She snaps her head back to you. "Don't forget to ask if your arrangement is exclusive or not!"
A chuckle rumbles in your chest, "I will." And you make your separate ways. 
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"Your sister will see you," You mused as you approach the older woman who was leaning against her Bentley. 
Karina pushed her Hugo sunglasses to her hair, giving her luscious locks a slid-back look. The raven-haired woman was wearing a black brushed ribbed-knit top with matching tailored sailor pants and boots. The fit complimented her lithe body. On the base of her neck is a golden chain necklace. 
The older woman grins as you stand a few feet away from her. "You make it sound like I'm your paramour." 
A small smile dances on your lips, "You just got off from work?"
"It's a slow day today at the office," Her hazel-colored eyes run down your body, "And I see that you got yourself a new look." 
You look down at your attire: white, monogram Jacquard cropped jeans, a plain white shirt, and ankle boots, all from Loius Vui, just like the attire of Karina. 
"Needed a fresh look," You tell her as you check out your attire. "You like it?"
"It suits you," She smiled before opening the passenger door for you. "Shall we get lunch?"
 "Well, isn't this a surprise," Karina mused while you and Ningning gaped at each other with her arm draped around who you presume is her benefactor: Giselle who's wearing a two-piece red suit and black heels. 
"Karina," Giselle regards before looking at you and smiling, "Y/N." 
Your benefactor turns to you, surprised. "You know each other?" 
"We're friends," Ningning interjects, "I'm roommates with Y/N. Giselle knows her through me." 
"I see," 
"Be seeing you two," The conglomerate looks at her sugar baby, "Let's go to our table." Before separating, Ningning sends you a wave while Karina leads you to your designated table with her hand pressed against the small area of your back. 
"Here you go, darling." She pulls out a seat for you before sitting across from you. "Order what you like. It's on me." She winks before a waiter comes and distributes the menu. 
"So," You clear your throat as soon as you say your orders to the waiter. Karina inclines her head to the side, waiting for you to continue. "Are we exclusive?"
The raven-haired woman arched a brow, and her expression hardens. "Do you plan on cheating on me if I say no?"
"What," You sputter as your arms frantically wave as if saying no. "No, I mean - I was just clarifying-"
"Yes," Karina's features soften with mirth, "Yes, darling. We're exclusive, so relax." 
"Oh," Your cheeks flush. 
"Why? Are you seeing someone?"
"No," You squeak. Your face burns as you clear your throat and straighten your posture as you repeat your answer: "No." 
"Very well," She toys with her utensils, and a wolfish smirk plays on her plump lips. "Has anyone told you that you look cute when you're flustered?"
Your face flushes, "No," 
"Then I'm the first," After some time, she drove you back to Hanyang University fifteen minutes before your next class begins.
"Thanks for the lunch," You tell the older woman as she brings you to the other entrance of the University. The latter hums, "My pleasure," Karina then clicks her tongue, "And Y/N?"
"Yes?"
"A little bird told me that you guys have a year-end party next week," Karina begins, "And that you'll have a three-day vacation after that due to the preparations for your university week, correct?"
"Yes," You confirm as you shift your weight on your other foot. "Why's that?"
The hazel-eyed beauty tilts her head sideways, "I was wondering if you'd like to spend those days with me in Japan. I have a business convention in one of my hotels in Tokyo." She tells you with her arms folded behind her back. 
A vacation with a drop-dead gorgeous woman? How could you say no to her when she's asking you so nicely?
"I'd love to," You beam at her, and her features glow. 
"Wonderful. You have plenty of time to prepare until then..." She trails off as she approaches you and takes your hand. 
You incline your head to the side, watching her with intent before your eyes widen, your cheeks dust pink, and your skin tingles as she presses her lips against the knuckles of your fingers. 
"Be seeing you," Karina whispers as she lets go. But before you enter the main building, your sugar mommy calls out your name.
"Yes?"
"Call me 'Jimin' next time we meet," She graces you with an award-winning smile. "'Karina' sounds cold coming from you, darling. So call me Jimin instead."
"Okay then, Jimin."
With that, you enter the main building.
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"Woah," Ningning snorts, "She invited you to a business convention with her in Tokyo?"
You hum as you browse through a fine selection of clothing. 
"In Tokyo?" Your friend repeats, and you give her a look, "Yeah? What about it?"
"Oh, nothing," She leans against the pillar and smirks, "It's just that you two seem to hit it off, I guess." You spare a glance at her, "Why? Did Aeri invite you to a vacation with her?"
"Yep," 
A snort leaves your nostrils, "Then that makes two of us." 
"Yeah," She concedes with a sigh as she begins to look for her new clothes. "You're right. What was the theme of our year-end party again?"
"Las Vegas-esque," You click your tongue, "I don't know, as long as we dress like the people attending casinos, we're fine." 
"So, we're supposed to dress like sluts, then?"
You and Ningning snap your heads at each other before letting out a laugh. "No!" You rebutted, "We're supposed to dress like new money or something." 
"Oh," She bobs her head, "Right."
"If you want to look like someone who goes to a casino," A steely, feminine voice interjects. You and Ningning straighten your backs as you slowly turn around to face Irene Bae, the dean of your college department. 
"I suggest you wear semi-formal attire." She turns her gaze to your friend. "And not dress inappropriately, Miss Ning Yizhou." 
"Good afternoon, Miss Bae." You and your friend say in unison as you bow to her. "At ease, ladies." 
"Sorry about that, Miss Bae." The ash-blonde hair sheepishly remarks before the dean softens her sharp features with a small smile. "I see that you've already chosen your attire, Ningning." She moves her head in your direction, causing you to lock eyes with obsidian-hued crevices. Your back feels as if someone brushed a cold hand against your skin. 
"What about you, Miss Seol?"
"Oh," You sputter as you feel small beneath her gaze. "I haven't picked one yet, Miss Bae."
The older woman hums, "If I may," She strides forward. Both you and Ningning instinctively make way for the older woman as she picks an outfit for you: A oversized, double-breasted jacket in vinyl leather and a gold belt. But despite that, you focus on her proximity and how her subtle but expensive perfume fills your nostrils. Intoxicating. 
"Try these," She coaxes, "But this is only my suggestion, Miss Seol." 
You tentatively take it from the latter, "Thank you, Miss Bae." 
"A pleasure," She looks at your watch. You fight the urge to hide it as an approving smile graces her lips. 
"Nice watch, Y/N. No wonder why there's only two of the same model left." She raises her arm and pulls back her sleeve to show you the black variation of the watch. "I have the second-to-the-last model." Irene grins, the sight surprising you. "I suppose that you and I share the same pleasures in life." 
"You and me, both." You agree with a steady smile. The older woman regards you and your friend. "I best be going now. You ladies enjoy." 
"Goodbye, Miss Bae." Ningning bows, and you follow her example. Once she's out of earshot, the latter turns to you with her lips curling upward t a smirk. "So, you're going to try her suggestion?"
You raise the pair before looking back at her. "I think I will. I mean, have you seen the way she dresses?" Your friend agrees, "Alright, try it, and I'll give you my feedback."
"Thanks, Ning." 
"Holy shit - Y/N, is that you?" You snap your head as Yeji's voice fills your ears despite the EDM music blasting over the speakers.
"Yeji!" You return her greeting as she approaches you and Ningning. The older girl wore a white tweed suit and heels. "Geez, girl." The chestnut-haired girl scours you from head to toe, "You look amazing!"
"Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" You counter, and she playfully hits your shoulder, "Yeah - but seriously, you look good."
"Thanks," You wink at her before she pats your shoulder, "I see Lia at the other end of the room. If you wanna drink and hang with us, our table is open." 
"Duly noted," You tell her before she nods her head and then leaves to join her group. While waiting for Ningning to arrive at the party, you mingled with your peers with a mocktail in your hand. Despite it being a year-end party, alcoholic drinks are still prohibited. 
"Finally!" You exasperated upon seeing a familiar face. Ningning rolls her eyes at you as you hand her a drink. "I thought you aren't going to show up." 
"And waste the outfits we bought for this party?" She scoffs, "No fucking way. You look good, by the way. Miss Bae has good taste." 
"I agree," You nudge her by the arm. "Yeji told me I looked amazing earlier, too." The latter cranes her neck, "What is it?" She snaps her attention back to you, "Oh, nothing." Then, Ningning smirks. "It's just that you've gained some attention." 
"The good kind, I hope?" You follow her example; indeed, Ningning's right. You've attracted stares from your peers. 
"Can't blame them though," She shrugs, "You've been wearing pants and trousers for the whole semester. The sight's refreshing." 
A scoff leaves your lips, "I feel like I'm giving the 'ugly duckling' effect." 
"So about your arrangement with Karina," A hum reverberates from your chest, "Did you clarify?"
"Jimin and I are exclusive," You sip your drink, and the beverage smoothly runs down your throat; you sigh. "Speaking of, are you and Aeri exclusive?"
"Yep," She emphasizes the 'P', "Gigi made it clear the moment we first met." 
"Hey, you're Y/N, right?" 
Ningning stands close to you. Her expression sharpens as she whispers: "Oh no, a man is approaching." 
"Who?" 
"Beats me," She whispers back. "I ain't leaving you." 
"Thanks,"
"Excuse me?"
"Hello," You greet him with a clipped tone as a stranger approaches you. The first thing that strikes you is how strong his perfume smelled. Oh, god.
"You're Y/N, right? From Professor Jung's class?"
"Yes?" 
He grins and takes a step close. You instinctively step back while Ningning observes him with her purse ready. "I was wondering if you girl want to join our table?"
Ha! No, thank you. But your friend spoke on your behalf.
"No thanks," She grabs your arm, "We're okay right where we are." 
"It'll be fun," He tries, and you hide your shudder as your skin prickles under his gaze. Your posture bristles as you drape your arm around Ningning's waist. "No, thank you." 
He is about to say something when another voice chimes in from behind. Cold, steely, and cutting. But vaguely familiar. 
"Are we interrupting something?"
On cue, all three heads snap to no other than the Bae siblings. But your focus is on Karina, whose expression's harsh, and her gaze: piercing, and dare you to say hostile?
"Good evening, Miss Bae," All three bow before the two powerful women, "I'll get going now," The guy sheepishly excuses himself, and your benefactor's face softens, but that was cut short when her haze-colored eyes traverse on your attire - did her eyes just darken?
"Miss Bae, what brings you to the year-end party?" 
"Karina and I just finished discussing matters regarding University Week. She'll help sponsor the program." 
"Oh," Karina's lip curled upward while she ran her eyes up and down your body, sending goosebumps in her wake. "That's right. And my, Y/N. You look ravishing." 
"Thanks," You breathe to calm your nerves as you fought to say her name. Did Irene arch a brow between you and Karina? Or was it just the strobing effect of the lights in the venue? You mentally shake your head sideways as you focus on another fact that the sisters look good - Karina looks good - ravishingly beautiful. The woman wore a soft white double lapel slashed cropped jacket finished with a single button fastening matching a soft white asymmetric mini skirt and platform thigh-high black boots. And to finish off the look, she styled her hair damp and slid it back with Bulgari rings adorning her well-manicured hands. 
"I chose that attire for her," Irene chimes and Karina snaps her attention to her older sister before raising a brow at you. You chose to ignore it. 
"I see," Karina notes absentmindedly, "No wonder I spot a change in style," she adds with a tone you can't decipher. 
"Hey, Y/N!" Yeji's voice interjects before she gets cut off by another voice:
"Oh - they're with the dean-"
"It's fine," Irene raises an open palm, "We'll be on our way." 
Oh...
Karina sends you a coy smile before leaving with her older sister, leaving your eyes to trail after her as they disappear from view. 
"Damn," You whisper while Ningning snickers, "Easy girl, we can't have the floor all slippery with you drooling after her." 
"Oh, shut up." You hiss at her while Yeji and Lia invite you and Ningning to their table. 
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"Excuse me, ladies," You announce, "But I need to go to the comfort room." 
"Want me to go with you?"
You held up a hand, "No thanks, I can manage." 
Yeji nods in understanding while Ningning chatters with Yuna. 
The door creaks open as you enter the clean CR to check on your appearance. Not long after, another woman enters the CR, but you didn't bother to raise your head to see until you feel two slender arms snake around your waist, pressing your back against her strong front as her voice fills the room:
"I didn't know that you and my sister saw each other." You hastily turn away from the sink as Jimin's slender figure stands in front of you, your back pressed against the marble sink. 
"Easy, darling." She purrs, "It's me,"
"Jimin," Your breath hitches as the woman before you smirk in delight. 
"I said it once, and I'll say it again," She leans dangerously close to your face. You hold your breath as her perfume fills your nose, "You look ravishing, darling. Exquisite too, if I may," Your hands grip her arms as she continues:
"But the next time you go shopping, call me." Her cold breath fans against the skin of your face. "I'll make time for you." 
Shit, she's too close - you can't think!
You instinctively lean away with your heart ramming harshly against your ribcage, "I will," You fought the urge to slap yourself for the way your voice sounded. "You look beautiful, Jimin. Nice touch on the hair." 
A grin escapes her lips, "I knew that you were attending. I had to dress to impress you, baby." 
"And I am," You tell her breathlessly as she pins you gently against the sink as she moves her head to the side of your face, her breath fans against the outer lobe of your ear, eliciting a shudder from you. 
"But I don't think I can leave you alone tonight, sweetheart. Especially when they have their eyes on you." She moves her head to your neck, her lips brush against your skin, and you bite your lip to prevent an embarrassing sound from coming out. 
"Shall I do something about it?" Your hoarsely suggested, and the older woman chuckles. "You can indulge me, pretty girl." 
A gasp leaves your lips as she pecks the side of your neck. Your skin thrums at the action as your hands shamelessly traverse to her back, flushing her against you, eliciting a dark chuckle from the woman's lips as her other hand goes up to your neck, then at the back of your skull where she takes a handful of your hair and gently pulls it back, your look up at her, eyes dark and glazed.
"I know I have such an effect on you, darling." She rasps, her voice an octave lower. "I'll be blunt, baby. I want you the moment I saw you in Bicena Olympia." 
Your lungs betray you as the latter presses her hips against yours. "Will you grant me this?"
Not trusting your words, you give the simplest form of reply by pecking the corner of her lips. Jimin returns it by locking her plump lips against yours, swallowing your cries of delight before pulling away, her hazel-colored eyes dark, almost abysmal as her sister's. 
"I'm taking you home," She gasps, and you don't have a problem with it. 
Of course, the Hotel Magnate would be staying at the penthouse of her hotel. And that same hotel magnate has her legs spread with you in between. Karina's skirt and boots are haphazardly discarded somewhere on the floor, while your double-breasted blazer jacket is loose. 
Her hair was strewn beautifully all over her pillows a blissful moan leaves the older woman's lips as you lap her juices. Her hand grips your hair, eliciting a hum from you as she rocks her hips against your tongue. Your hands fist the sheets as you flatten your tongue to let her do as she wishes and groan when your nose bumps against her clit. 
"Fuck, keep going, baby." She purrs, "You do me so well - fuck!" She drops her head against her soft pillows; a groan leaves your lips as her walls squeeze your tongue and your hips rut against the mattress, hoping for some friction, but Karina tugs on your hair as a warning. You obey your mistress as your lips traverse from her core to her clit and bite it. The hazel-eyed goddess sighs in satisfaction. 
She's close, by the telltale signs of her fluttering walls, and a surge of wetness touches your tongue, and you didn't hesitate to lap her essence until her thighs shake from overstimulation - that's when you pull away and rest your cheek against your thigh while you squirm as your arousal dampens your underwear - and it's starting to become uncomfortable. 
"Good girl," She praised and caressed the top of your head. "I will reward you." Karina presses a kiss against your forehead. 
"Stay here," She whispers, "I'll get something, okay?"
"Yes," You pant as the latter slips away gracefully, and while she's away for a moment, you inhale her scent in the sheets and sigh blissfully. She smells divine. 
The bathroom door opens, and you look up to see Karina standing - naked, allowing you to see her lithe physique. Her body is carved with perfection. Your eyes travel lower and - your jaw slacks. Trapped to her hips was a strap. 
A double-ended strap. 
Karina's eyes ate you up predatorily as she stalks towards you, but your eyes were focused on the long, thick strap between her legs. You watch, slacked-jawed as she sits on the bed with her back against the headboard. Her hazel-colored eyes glaze with lust as she rakes her eyes at your figure. 
"Strip," She commands, and you didn't need to be told twice as you quickly, haphazardly discard your clothes, leaving them to flood her marble floors. "Good girl," She purrs as her slender hand pats her thigh. "Now come to me." 
You oblige by crawling to her. Your cunt flutters due to exposure as you crawl towards your mistress with hooded eyes, Karina watches you intently as you straddle her strong thighs, hands on her shoulders while the pads of her fingers dance around your hips while her lips press butterfly kisses around the pillar of your neck before going behind your ear:
"Ride me,"
Say less
With a puff of your breath, Karina helps you align your sopping cunt to her faux cock. The latter grunts as you slowly sink into her thick cock. You bounce up and down, pussy rubbing against hers as you dig your nails against Karina's shoulders, hearing the older woman hiss, you loosened your grip, muttering: "Sorry-"
She cuts you off by flushing you against her and thrusting her hips, faces contorting with pleasure, and her lips curl to a wolfish smirk when your lips let out streams of moans. 
"It's okay, baby - oh fuck. Keep doing it. Ride me, harder." 
"Fuck," You mewl as your hips meet her thrusts, your jaw drops into an 'O' shape as your release a particular squeal that has Karina groaning and caresses your ass before she spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth as you hide your head in the crook of her neck while her lips attack your neck by sucking. Walls clenching and throbbing around her, you were so slick and wet that your juices dripped down on her thighs. 
"Yeah, just like that." Karina gasps, letting out a guttural moan as the other side of the strap digs against her clit. Karina thrusts her hips upward in motion with yours, fucking you hard and deep that your vision grew irregular as a strange pressure grows on your stomach, your insides pulsing and tingling - you're close.
"Karina," You mewl, and you press yourself harder against her, your position coming off as intimately close. "I'm close - please-"
"Keep going," She growls, pounding into you harder to the point that her thrusts are shallow. Both bodies are covered in a thick sheen of sweat as beads of exertion form on both your foreheads. The smell of perfume and sex permeates in the air accompanied by sinful noises coming from you and the older woman. 
The pressure grows strong inside of you, losing all inhibition as you kiss the older woman - searingly, all-consuming as she swallows your moans. Her arms snake around you, pulling you impossibly closer to her hot body as you come undone with a gnawing urge to say something - call out the title the woman deserves. 
But you refuse at the embarrassing possibility, so instead, you pull away and bite her shoulder, earning you a moan from the older woman as she cums. Both ends of the strap are covered with your juices as her hips stutter. 
Fire consumes your body as you lift your head from her shoulder and gently kiss the mark you left on the woman before resting your head on the crook of her neck, both chests heaving harshly for breath while your mistress brushes a hand against your back. 
You lean away from her, and you're greeted with an equally spent Karina whose lips curl to a satisfied smirk. "Do you want me to clean you up?"
You shook your head sideways, not wanting to leave her arms. 
"Very well," She pecks your lips as she grabs the duvet with her other hand to cover your lower parts without pulling out of you. She adjusted the both of you while her faux cock stays inside you, coaxing a soft moan out of you as she whispers in your ear: 
"Sleep, pretty girl. We have a flight to catch tomorrow."
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"I'll take a shower," You said. 
"And I'll join you," Karina said, "It'll be faster." She said.
Well...
The bathroom echoes with your shared moans as the older woman plows into you with utter control as she presses you firmly against the marble wall. 
You don't know how long you two were at it. All you could do was claw Karina's back in pure bliss as water runs down your bodies. 
"Shit," Karina mewls, "Fuck, baby. You're so tight!" She emphasizes by roughly pounding into you as the other end of the dildo rubs against her walls deliciously, causing you to throw your head back against the wall. 
Despite the running water, it doesn't conceal the sounds of obscene activity you and the older woman are doing. 
You cry out and wrap your arms around her shoulders as she hits the spot that makes you see stars. You dig your heels against her ass, forcing her to thrust deeper into you. Her faux cock blissfully rubs against your walls as she fucks you into the wall. 
"Are you close?" She moans when you kiss her Adam's apple before forcing your head against the wall with her other hand. "Answer me, pretty girl." 
"Yes," You whine and clench your walls for good measure. 
Karina's hips stutter before she pistons her hips at a harsh pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head with profanities befalling from your lips. 
The older woman watches you with carnal delight as you writhe under her ministrations. 
You look so pliant, so exquisite - hers. 
The hazel-eyed beauty bristles with feverish desire as she combs her damp hair with her free hand, giving her a messy, slid-back look that makes her devastatingly attractive before she puts her hand back on your hips, keeping you still as she bullies your cunt with her cock. 
"Close," You cry out, "Oh - so close-" There's that urge again, and you refuse it by kissing the older woman who returns it with equal energy as you cum so hard it's blinding. 
Your entire body goes slack, and Karina holds you up with her hands caressing your hips slowly. 
"You okay?" She bemused before pecking your bare shoulder. 
"I don't think I can walk," You mumble as you close your eyes. Karina hums and rests her head against your hammering chest. A whimper leaves your lips as Karina shifts her hips with the strap still lodged inside you. Karina coos in your ear encouragingly, rubbing your hips to ease you, and pulls the strap out with a wet squelch. 
"Fuck," You moan as the strap slips out of you. Your beaten walls ring with sensitivity, and you can't tell if it's better or worse now that Karina pulled out. 
"Did I do too much?" She whispers as she holds you securely. Her touch is gentle and soothing as she caresses your back and waist. 
"Maybe?" You cheekily reply, "I was too busy enjoying it to notice." 
This elicits a grin from the older woman as she pecks your lips. "I'll carry you back into the room. We have a flight to catch at 6 PM."
"Thanks," You sigh as you wrap your arms around the latter and flush against her warm body as she brings you to her room. 
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The trip to Tokyo was smooth sailing. 
The older woman always had her arm on the small area of your back whenever you go out together, even during her meetings with clients and investors. There's never a dull moment with your sugar mommy. You exit the stores carrying bags of Gucci, YSL, and Loius Vui. Designer brands? You name, you have it!
These shopping sprees paired with dinners at the finest restaurants in the city had you ready to give Karina what she wanted: you. 
Not that you minded. Especially when Karina gives you mind-blowing orgasms; you'd let her do anything to you, even slip a vibrator inside you without any chances of coming undone.
You bite your lower lip to suppress a whine as the device edges you once again. Your hands grip the utensils while Karina talks with one of her loyal clients with a dangerous gleam dancing in her eyes. Your walls clench around the vibrator, your arousal dampening your underwear. You can only hope that it won't stain your dress. Your thighs quiver whenever you move as the vibrator strikes deeper, forcing you to bite into your pasta to prevent an embarrassing moan from leaving your lips. 
Hot and bothered, you shakily reach for a glass of water as Karina turns to look at you, her carnal delight hiding behind the mask of faux curiosity. 
"How about you, darling? Do you like the food Chef Nakamoto made?"
"Yes," You say through gritted teeth as Karina adjusts the dial to 'high'. 
"Well," Sakura, the client, chimes with a warm smile. "I enjoyed the dinner. I'll have my secretary have the documents ready by tomorrow. Thank you, Miss Bae." 
Karina stands up, and you follow her example as you three bow together and head back to her penthouse suite. 
The balcony allows you to have a good view of Tokyo's city lights. Aside from the pool, there's also a canopy bed good for a couple a few feet from the pool. 
You hold on to one of the railings as Karina leads you by the pool while the device vibrates inside you. You grip her hand, garnering the attention of the former as you look at her with pleading eyes. 
"Can I cum, please, Karina?" You begged, "I can't hold it any longer." 
God, begging is so unbecoming.
But the older woman replies with a vile smirk as she raises your hand to her lips. "It entices you, doesn't it?" She sneers, "Being denied over and over again in public." 
"Karina-"
"Easy, princess." She chuckles as you clench your thighs together. "Why don't you join me in the pool tonight, hm? The moon looks nice." 
You swallow hard and nod, not trusting your words as the woman pecks your lips. "Your swimsuit is in the living room, and meet me in the pool once you're dressed."
"Okay," you whisper against her lips before she walks past you. 
With shaky legs, you enter the living room and fetch the swimsuit that lay atop the cushioned settee, and changed in one of Karina's bathrooms with the vibrator still inside you. 
Upon reaching the pool, Karina's already in the pool with her hand securing the stem of her wine glass. The woman is wearing a goddamn revealing swimwear, backless and sexy, giving you a good view of her amazing back view. 
"There you are," She turns around with a smirk. "I thought you took care of your inconvenience in the living room." 
You shake your head sideways while the low hum of the vibrator squelches inside of you. "I could never do that when you can do it better." 
She guffaws and pats the ledge of the pool. "Sit. You've been a good girl." 
You oblige and sit on the ledge of the pool as Karina makes her way to you. The pool sloshes at her movements as she stops before your closed thighs. She places her drink on the ledge before using both hands to pry your thighs apart. You breathe in her scent as she comes closer, glazed hazel eyes watching your faces as one of her fingers moves the rim of your swimwear and underwear, eliciting a soft mewl from you as the pads of her digits play with your slick folds. 
"Look at that," She bemused, "You're so wet." 
And she pulls out the vibrator, eliciting a moan from you as she turns the device off and puts it on the ledger. The older woman kisses the inner area of your thigh before pulling away to sit on the shallow side of the pool. 
"Join me," She coaxes, and you didn't need to be told twice as you drop to the pool, the cold, yet oddly satisfying water soothes you as you swim towards the older woman who has her arms resting on the ledges. She uses one hand to beckon you closer and sit on her lap. 
Your slick rubs against her skin and mixes with the water while you keep your hands to your sides, unsure of the outcome if you allow yourself to touch her. 
Karina inclines her head as she snakes both arms around your waist, pressing you firmly against her lean body. "It's okay," She whispers and assaults your neck with butterfly kisses. "You can touch me, baby." 
A sigh escapes your lips as you play with the ends of her hair while ignoring the throbbing in your core. 
Karina's hand caresses your back, "You've been a good girl, aren't you?" She inhales your scent and sighs. You've been wearing her signature scent for the entirety of the vacation, marking you as hers. 
She pulls you for a soft, sensual kiss. Her lips are plump and warm as it molds and moves against yours. Your hands cling to her nape. Her hands move freely against your straddled figure while your thighs trap her below you. A deep rumble echoes from her chest as your bodies begin to heat up with desire. 
You kiss her until your lungs burned. 
And when you feel your lungs constricting, you pull away with batted breath. 
"Keep up with me, darling." She teased, "I'm going to reward us both." 
Before you can ask, her hand goes down to your pelvis and moves the fabric aside, and thrusts three fingers into you.
You arch against her, moaning in sinful delight for receiving what she had been denying you for hours.
"Fuck!" You mewl as her other hand grabs the back of your hair and pulls it back, leaving your neck open and vulnerable for her as she sucks on every exposed expanse of your skin until it changes to a hue of light pink that'll turn to blue, green and wine-like stains the next morning. 
"So sensitive," She teases, and you clench your walls in retaliation earning a soft gasp from her as more of your slick exits your folds. 
"So drenched," She adds as she deepens her digits, earning her another moan from you as you allow your head to fall on her broad shoulder as she fucks her fingers into you. Your nails dig into her skin as she increases her pace, and the pool sloshes with your ministrations as you roll your hips against her hand. 
It didn't take long for her to rub a spongey area of your walls - your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you come undone unannounced. 
"That's a good girl," Karina praises as she helps you ride your high and gently nips your neck. "I hope you're not too spent yet, darling." She rasps as she licks your jaw, making you whine before pulling away and kissing you gently. 
"Come," Karina helps you get up and situates you on the ledge as she grabs a towel stationed near you and wipes your skin dry before reaching your legs. She parts them, eliciting a mewl from you as she lightly dabs the mess you left in between your legs. 
"Easy, baby." The Hazel-eyed goddess grins, "We're not done yet." Teasingly, she cups your cunt, making your thighs slightly jump at her soaked hand and shooting you a wink when you whined. 
Karina's touches are soft, teasing, and sensual. 
And it's driving you crazy as she helps you slip out of the pool and to the canopy bed. 
She laid you gently against the sheets while she took off her swimsuit and disappeared inside. Minutes later, she comes out with a strap harnessed in between her legs, gesturing for your clothes to be removed.
You clumsily take the swimwear off your skin, leaving it on the floor as the woman joins you. 
Karina perches her knee on top of the soft mattress and crawls toward you like a lioness cornering her prey. The sinews of her muscle showed as she looms above you, her toned arms cage your sides, and her legs caged yous. Unabashed, you look at her lips before raising your head to capture them. You release yourself from the towel and latch onto her back. The black-haired woman moans and presses you against the mattress as she kisses you with an all-consuming passion. Karina's hands glide to your wrist and pin them to the sides of your head as she grinds her faux cock against your seeping cunt. 
Your sugar mommy pulls away and attacks the expanse of your neck with kisses that morph into generous bites. You close your eyes and allow your head to fall on the soft pillows. 
Your hips jut against hers - the older woman bites your collar in return as her arousal drips down her thighs. 
"On your stomach," She commands. You obey.
"Hips up," Karina growls. You obeyed, allowing her to see your swollen cunt that was already dripping with arousal. "Good girl," She purred and slapped your folds, making you cry out as more of your essence dripped down.
The older woman uses your slick to coat her cock before looming above you, her hands trapping you on opposite sides before her right hand moves to your neck, applying pressure, causing you to gasp and jut your hips at her dildo. 
Karina's other hand digs her nails against your neck, making you hiss in both pleasure and pain as she thrusts her entire length. The head easily parts your folds as she glides into you with one swift motion, impaling you entirely with her cock. The sheer girth of her shaft spreads your cunt until your walls are stretched thin around her length. You find yourself screaming in a mix of pain and erotical delight as you claw the sheets and you gasp for air, practically winded by the first thrust. Compared to her fingers, you feel full. Your walls fluttered, pulsing around her as Karina sets a brutal pace.
"Karina," You cry out as her hand leaves your neck and kisses your shoulder. Her hips hit the curvature of your ass. You can feel her abs flex and stiffen at her pace. 
"Y/N," She moans, holding you down by your shoulders as she jackhammers inside you while the bulb presses into her walls. You both feel hot and dripping in sweat as she meets every roll of your hips. Your head falls against the pillows, letting the older woman have her way with you as her lips chase your neck and bite your skin, making you cry out as she spanks you. 
"Mine," She growls against your ear and gently bites it. "You're mine, baby. Do you understand?"
Your cunt clamps vigorously, sweat finally dripping from your temple as lust has finally taken over you, moaning with abandon, your mixed juices now trailing down your thighs, body covered in both sweat and Karina's marks. 
Her patience runs thin, and she thrusts harshly, "Answer me, pretty girl. Do you fucking understand?"
Your stomach coils, and your arms shake under her thrusts as she keeps her body close to yours. 
"Yes - mommy." 
Oh shit
You hope she didn't hear you. 
The older woman digs her nails into your hips, pounds becoming more desperate, feral. Her hands grope any skin available for her as her need for release pushes her closer to the edge. 
You aren't far behind her, either.
And she knows this, too. 
The way your stomach coils and twists, toes curling, back arching, and your moans were high-pitched, sobs choked, and your mewls were breathy as she begins to thrust with abandon, you drop your head as you cry out her title, incensed by your wails, her pace inhumanly fast and-
You let out a loud moan as you felt her cock brush your g-spot, making your back arch against her front. A vile grin breaks into Karina's lips as she repeatedly aims the spot, making your arms weak and your thighs quiver with every penetrative slam. Moan after moan leaves your lips.
"Are you close?"
"Yes," You whimper with your eyes closed. A broken sob escapes your lips when her teeth dig against your nape, sending shocks of pleasure shooting right through you. 
"Repeat my title, baby." She rasps. 
What?
"Mommy," She clarifies, "Call me mommy when I fuck you." 
So she did hear...
"Are you close?" She repeats. Another broken sob leaves your lips as you replay to her: "Yes, mommy - fuck, I'm so close."
Karina bends down to press a kiss on your marked shoulder before stilling her hips as you cum. Your walls fluttered as the older woman cums too. 
She drops her head against your nape, and her warm breath fans your sensitive skin as her arm wraps gently around yours. Swallowing thickly, she pulls out. 
You let out a frail moan as more of your cum leaks out of your abused cunt. The older woman delicately helps you lay on your back, finally allowing you to see her. 
Karina looks beautiful in the afterglow of sex, her pristine appearance is slightly flushed, and her lips are swollen. 
"Can you do one more for mommy?" She murmurs as she maps your face with light kisses. 
And who are you to deny her? You cup her face and peck her plump lips. "Use me, mommy."
A smirk breaks past her pretty lips. "Hips up," She gently commands. You obey her and raise your hips, wincing at the sore feeling that shoots in your hips. Karina quickly places a pillow underneath your hips as her lips find yours, consuming you again.
Your hands circle her neck as you give in to her kiss, hands gripping themselves on your waist, pressing you hard on her bed as if to keep your scent there, and moaning softly when your tongue breaches into her mouth. 
The older woman grinds her pelvis against yours, smearing your thighs with your juices as her lips latch onto your neck, biting her marks, making you roll your eyes to the back of your skull as shocks of pleasure ripple through you.
Sheer libido sticks in the air as she pushes herself inch by inch. Nails digging against the skin of her back; a breathy mewl breaks past your lips, and the sting of sensitivity ripples through you. Karina hides her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as she further pushes herself deeper, indulging in your moans. 
"Mommy's got you," She coaxes, and her hips begin to move. 
Gasping at the intrusion as she pounds into you with newly-found vigor, your body falls limp, allowing her to use you as she further spreads your legs apart to create more room for her to fuck herself into you, her pace bristling with need. 
"Ah-fuck!" You cry out with ecstasy when she impulsively bites the center of your neck.
Your mistress growls and pulls away with a wolfish grin on her lips as she snaps her lips with need. 
The dark-haired goddess suddenly slows her pace, pulling out until the bulbous head remains, before slamming right back in, and a wanton moan befalls your lips, eyes closing and mouth agape, letting out your sounds of moans of delirium, and Karina is incensed by this and angles her hips in a particular fashion that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, whimpering "Mommy" on the lobe of her ear, driving her insane and increases the power of her thrusts, rutting into you whilst you litter her neck with kisses, all the while leaving red vertical lines on her strong back.
You could practically hear the bed mimicking your trembling legs beneath the older woman as your cunt takes her. The squelching sounds add to the symphony between the two of you. 
The older woman growls and presses you harder, fucking you to her bed, hips snapping back and forth, teeth gritted, beads of sweat rolling down her temple, strands of hair falling to the side of her perfectly sculpted face. 
You pull her close to you, legs trembling as they wrap around her waist, attempting to pull her closer and giving Karina the advantage of pushing her cock deeper inside your weeping walls, hitting your bundle of nerves.
"That's it, baby." The hazel-eyed beauty grunts with effort, her pace merciless, forcing you upward so that she has to wrap her arms around you to keep you in place. 
"You're taking mommy so well." 
Tenderly, she cups your jaw and massages your cheek, startling you as her hips are in contrast to her hand.
"You belong to me now, love." She whimpers as you jut your hips. "Say it, that you belong to me." 
"I belong to you, mommy." You whimpered, causing the woman above you to close her eyes, heart fluttering upon hearing the sound of her title falling perfectly from your lips. "I-I'm close, please, please don't stop."
"I won't," She prompts softly, hitting deeper, the sensation rippling within you overwhelms your body. You're pushed over the edge with a sob as your body racks with pleasure; another orgasm crashes through you like a truck as you fall limply, squirting around her cock. 
But she keeps fucking into you. 
"Mommy," You mewl as you try to pry her off. "Too much," 
"One more," She pants, "Give me one more, love. Can you do that - fuck - for me?"
You can't, your legs feel like lead, your body is already covered with sweat and marks, and your lower region felt like it was about to split in half. But in determination to please your mistress, you nod, with tears welling in your eyes before she moves her hips at a smooth, steady pace. You cry out as the ring of sensitivity and overstimulation shoots in your cunt as she takes you raw, your eyes already spilling with tears as her speed picks up, pulling her closer until your bodies feel like molding together. 
Karina slaps your clit, making you jolt and cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain.
She kisses you feverishly; she swallows your whimpers as she doubles the pace, making your back arch against her front. 
You cry out helplessly as she throws your legs over her shoulder, allowing her to hit much deeper spots within you and running with effort as her pace becomes sloppy, both walls painfully throbbing for release as your broken moans fuel her and the thin line between pain and pleasure blurred as she stuffs you with her cock. 
"More," You panted and clawed her back for leverage. "I'm so close, mommy. So, so close." 
"You like that, hm?" She pants and moans softly when your stomach bulges from her thrusts. "Like it when mommy fucks you senseless? Treat you like a fuckdoll?"
You screamed as her tip kissed your cervix. You tangled your hand around her locks and tugged it harshly, making Karina hiss and speeds to a despearate pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as the tip keeps kissing your cervix, drawing you closer to your impending orgasm. 
You latch your lips around her neck, sucking and biting her collarbones, and her hoarse moans fill your ears as you bite her Adam's apple, feeling her stutter in her thrusts and punishing you for it by drilling into you at a bruising pace, your vision hazy, your body heavy, skin covered by a veil of sweat as your hands grab onto her biceps or anything that will anchor you from her frantic pace, the skin on your inner thighs burning from the contact, dragging her fake cock in and out of your quivering folds. 
Small hips jutting in sharp precision that she flaunts whenever she has a chance, she palms your cheeks, tilting your head up for a kiss, tangibly tender and sensual compared to her pace. The older woman kisses you gently while fucking you senselessly. 
The coil in your stomach suddenly snaps with the tension, and then comes the onslaught of immense white-hot ecstasy, curling, and roaring like a beast in your stomach, the pressure between your legs immeasurably high. You clamp around her one last time, vision blackening as she throws you to your orgasm, blinding you until it consumes you whole, and you're shaking ferociously.
Karina bites your shoulder and comes hard with a harsh shudder. You held onto her tightly. Lungs panted for batted breath as she cradles you, prepping her kisses all over your face and brushing the stray strands of hair behind your ear as you tremble in her arms. 
"Sh," She coaxes, "I got you. You did so well." She pressed another kiss on your lips, allowing you to anchor yourself into her. "Hang on, baby. I'll carry you to the bed inside, okay?"
Throat raw from moaning and screaming, you nod, and the woman carries you effortlessly without pulling out. You tighten your arms around her, feeling her against your walls as she carried you inside your private quarters. 
She lay you gently against the bed and gently pulls out from your battered walls, and throws the toy somewhere in the room as she lays beside you, her arms automatically finding yours as she flips you so you can be on top of her while the other hand reaches for the sheets so she can keep you warm. 
"Thank you," You croaked as you rest your head against her chest and inhaled her soft scent. 
Karina returns your gratitude with a soft kiss against your forehead and rubs your back softly, lulling you into sleep. But not without hearing her raspy voice:
"Goodnight, darling. And thank you for indulging me." 
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"Here we are," Karina parks the car near the university's main building. You tear your gaze away from the window and towards your provider. 
"Thanks, Karina." You lean and peck her cheek before exiting the car. 
"Wait," The latter calls out and follows after you. The ends of her coat dance in the wind as Karina stands beside you. "I'll escort you there." It wasn't a request, but you didn't mind as you offer to her your hand. Karina smiles brightly, her skin glowing as the golden rays of the sun kiss her face, giving her hazel eyes a bright glow as she takes your hand. You walk together. 
"Are you free after class?" She inquires as your footfalls clack against the pavement. 
For her? 
"Yes," 
"Then I'll pick you up ten minutes after classes, yeah?"
"Sure-"
"And what do we have here?" You freeze while Karina whips her head to the back, where her sister - the dean is standing with her hands on her hips with a perfectly arched brow directed at the both of you, her expression: surprised. 
"Irene," Karina greets with a coy grin as you turn to face her. The Hotel Magnate quickly wraps her arm around your waist, pulling you close to her while you bow respectfully towards your dean. 
"Good morning, Miss Bae." 
"At ease, Miss Seol." 
You straighten your back to see that the dean has her eyes on her sibling, and a small smile graces the older Bae's lips. 
"So, when did you start boning one of my students, sister?"
"That's a long story, Joohyun." She looks at you, "Come on, I'll take you to the building." You eagerly agree with your paramour and bow to the dean again before leaving her standing there. 
"What are we going to do?" You whisper to her, and she sends you a wink. 
"She won't interfere, darling." She peers over her shoulder and smirks before returning her gaze to you and kissing you softly. 
"You're mine. Remember that." Karina breathes against your lips. "And my sister can't do a thing about it." 
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Fin
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incognit0slut · 6 days
Note
COWBOY SPENCE! COWBOY SPENCE! WE WANT COWBOY SPENCE!
Fluff. Kind of a continuation to this but not really. 1.3k. Also thank you anon for bringing back my cowboy spence agenda.
Spencer gives you a ride on his horse to watch the sunset.
-
"You're not supposed to be here," he said the moment he saw you enter the stable. And he was right, visiting his ranch on a random Tuesday evening was the last thing you should be doing.
Emily had sent you to interview someone tied to the case, and you managed to gather more information about the Unsub, which you shared with her over the phone. But on your way back to the police station, you realized Spencer's ranch was just a half-hour drive away from town. So you turned the steering wheel, hoping your boss wouldn't notice your impulsive detour.
"Well, you're supposed to reply to my text," you shot back, the sound of your boots echoing on the ground.
He offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that, I got caught up today, haven’t had the chance to check my phone."​
"I guess some things never change," you remarked as you approached him standing inside the horse arena, hopping up onto the fence. "Give me a kiss."
Spencer chuckled softly, gently patting Mildred's mane as he stepped around her, the beautiful white horse who seemed to acknowledge your presence with a subtle bow of her head. As he reached your side, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you.
This was exactly why you had wanted to see him. The absence of his presence had left a void you hadn't realized until now and you groaned when he gently pulled away. His touch lingered as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his concern evident in his voice.
"Aren't you going to get into trouble?"
"Maybe," you admitted with a playful shrug. "But some things are worth the risk, don't you think?"
"Emily wouldn't be too happy about that," he pointed out.
"She can do just fine without me for an hour or two," you countered before your attention shifted towards Mildred. "Hey, Millie!"
He laughed. "Millie? You've only met her once and you already have a nickname for her?"
You flashed him a grin. "Well, she just looks like a Millie to me," you said, reaching out to stroke Mildred's soft mane. The horse nuzzled against your hand affectionately, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"I think she likes her new name," he remarked. "Wanna take her out on a ride?"
Your eyes widened at the suggestion. "And break my back? I don't even know how to ride a horse."
"Come on, I'll ride with you," he insisted, leading Mildred towards the arena gate. With a quick hop, you jumped off the fence and caught up with him just as he stepped out of the gate, his horse following behind.
You hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you looked up at him from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. "I don't think this is a good idea."
He met your gaze with a reassuring smile, his arm outstretched towards you. "You'll be fine, you trust me, right?"
His confidence was infectious, and despite your doubt, you found yourself nodding.
"Alright, let's do this," you said, placing your hand in his as he helped you onto Mildred's back. "Don't let go of me!"
"I won't," he said with a chuckle, and your foot stepped onto the stirrup as he steadied Mildred. With a deep breath, you swung your other leg over, settling onto the saddle.
"You ready?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement. But before you could answer, he smoothly mounted himself up and settled behind you, his presence comforting as Mildred began to move beneath you both.
"Holy shit," you couldn't help but mutter, feeling extremely conscious of sitting so high up on a horse. "This feels weird."
He moved his arms securely around you as he held onto the reins. "You're doing great," he said soothingly, his voice close to your ear. "Just take it easy, you'll get used to it in no time."
His words filled you with warmth, and you couldn't help but lean back against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. His arms around you gave a sense of security as Mildred carried you forward, and that was when you saw it, the vast expanse of his ranch unfolding before you.
The rolling hills, the sprawling fields, and the distant mountains dotted with trees and bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun painted a picturesque scene that took your breath away.
"Spencer Reid," you mused, your eyes tracing the landscape, watching a group of cattle running around at the side of the field. "You're rich rich."
He chuckled softly, his chest vibrating against your back. "I prefer to think of it as being fortunate."
"No wonder you don't want to work with us anymore."
"Honestly, there’s a part of me that doesn't want to leave all this behind," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "But it's not just about the ranch. Being here reminds me of the simpler things in life, the BAU can be... overwhelming at times."
You understood his sentiment, "I get that," you said softly. “I'm just glad you seem happier now."
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Spencer's lips as one of his arms circled your waist. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'm actually happier with you here."
Your giggle danced through the air and his smile widened at the sound. With a gentle squeeze around your waist, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Look at the view."
You followed his gaze, looking out in front of you just as he urged Mildred to stop. As the horse came to a halt, you found yourself gazing out at the breathtaking scenery spread out before you.
The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The rolling hills and sprawling fields seemed to stretch on endlessly, while in the distance, the mountains stood tall against the horizon.
"It's beautiful," you whispered, the awe evident in your voice as you took in the stunning view.
Spencer's arm tightened around your waist as he leaned in. "Very beautiful.”
Your smile widened as you fished your phone out of your pocket to capture the moment, but as you faced the camera towards the scenery, the screen showed the front camera instead. You both burst out laughing, but then you took the opportunity to lean back against him and angle the camera right in front of you.
Spencer smiled as you cupped his cheek with your free hand, his stubble rough against your palm, before you snapped the moment. You then examined the result, admiring the way he was leaning close to you, his bright hazel eyes sparkling with warmth, with the soft lines of his smile at the corners of his eyes.
“I’m changing this into my wallpaper now.”
His grin widened as you showed him the picture.
"I like the sound of that," he said, his eyes lingering on the image with fondness. Just then, there was a sudden notification on your screen and you exchanged a quick glance with him before opening the message.
Boss Woman: You better not be visiting Reid
Boss Woman: Oh who am I kidding? Of course you are. Say hi to him for me
Boss Woman: But get your ass back to the station right now
His laughter echoed behind you. "It’s like she has a sixth sense."
"I haven’t even told her about us yet," you replied, shaking your head in amusement. "Let's head back before she sends out a search party."
With a nudge from him, he turned Mildred around and guided her on the way back to the ranch. And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the landscape in a warm golden light, you knew that this was worth the trouble. You felt the gentle sway of the horse and you couldn't help but smile, placing a hand on the arm circling your waist.
You were definitely going to visit him again.
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captainmera · 2 months
Note
Was evelyn ever ALMOST caught by witch hunters?
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I WROTE IT, BECAUSE DRAWING IT TAKES TOO LONG.
For some reason, I forgot I could just...... Write these little shorts with little illustrations alongside it, instead of drawing out the whole thing and it takes forever. So... here ya go! Two more little drawings beneath the cut with some text!
Roger growled through the gap amongst his ivory. He could not wrap his head around why his rival was standing there with bow and arrow, willing to.. What? Shoot him? For this woman. Barely a Christian woman, even. "What are you going to do?" Roger gestured at Caleb's homemade weaponry. "You're going to shoot me if I don't leave?" "Maybe." Caleb said, still not tensing the bow. "My brother's a real clever guy, he knows a lot about the body. Did you know that arterial bleeding is the most fatal?" "Uh-" "Looks the most accidental, too." Roger furrowed his brows. Caleb's brown eyes were void of warmth. "What are you saying?" "I'm saying I'm holding a bow. I'm saying I'm pretty good at using it. I'm saying I'm a woodsman, you're not. I'm saying that if I wanted to accidentally shoot you and hide your body, I could. And if you were discovered, it's an arrow in you, not an English pistol wound, or a knife. And nobody knows you were ever here." "...You're not serious." "You can always find out." "You're bluffing, I've never seen you use a bow and-" "Leave my property." Caleb repeated. "And if you are going to accuse my friend of witchcraft, you better have more than suggestive or spectral evidence." Roger glowered back, held his hands up in peace, and backed away. "Fine, I will." And left the way he came through the woods. Caleb waited until he couldn't see him any more, before locking the door and pulling the curtains. Roger had never liked Caleb, but before his rival took a break from witch hunting, Roger had at least had a competitors respect for the man. But respect turned to suspicion. Caleb had been acting strange for awhile... Glum and a lot more quiet. Then that woman showed up. And now the cove were against spectral evidences? Caleb had been the most frequent and outspoken about how witches found a lawful loophole by using supernatural means to get away with their crimes. As it was difficult to prove that a witch had tormented someone in their dreams, for example. And Roger agreed! Sure, Caleb was annoying, but they had both been amongst the best and the worst of hunters, being the same age only meant the two lads butted head to stay in their spot as head of a patrol. Being a witch hunter was a competitive sport, almost, it was hard to explain unless you participated. They were not friends, but Roger was sure if the roles had been reversed, Caleb would've been suspicious too and, honestly? Caleb would've tried to save Roger. It was just good sportsmanship. And this whole thing smelled wicked. Caleb turned to Evelyn. "Are you alright?" "I don't know.." She said and looked at her hands. Artemis had crawled out onto her shoulder to give her a comforting little spider hug. "My magic.. It didn't work." "What?" Caleb abandoned his bow by its place next to the backdoor. "It's not working?" "I don't- I was trying to make it work, he saw me. I'm sorry." Caleb lift her chin up. "Hey no, it's alright. Maybe.. You've just been here too long?" "No that's not it. I know it isn't." "Maybe you're ill?" She smiled up at the crease of worry on his forehead. He was trying to sound calm and proper, and she knew that tone of his. That rougher, almost demanding, serious tone. That tone he used with Philip and his friends when they were turning to him for leadership and give them orders - even if he was just as anxious as them.
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His eyes flickered away, noticing that she had caught him spiralling with worries. He shook his head to get out of it and straightened his back. "Are you ill?" He repeated with a softer tone "No, I dont think so." "Not witch-ill, human-ill?" "No... I don't have any symptoms." "Hm.." Caleb thought back at when she had visited him at his job. "Oh, was it the sprig of dill tea?" Evelyn's eyes lit up. "Oh! Oh right that did taste awful!" Caleb couldn't help but break out into a soft scoff. "Well, good to know that folktale is true." "Huh?" "It's said sprig of dill keeps witches and evil away. That's why we drink it at the morrow' meeting." Evelyn's lips pressed into a line, feeling a little silly that she had so readily accepted tea from a bunch of woodsmen-slash-witch hunters. Of course they would be drinking things like that out of superstition.
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"Right." She brushed her vest. Caleb snorted. "Stop it! I was afraid!" "Sorry, sorry. I'm sure it's only temporary." Evelyn looked at her hands. "You think so?" "Yeah. But.. Why don't you stay here, just in case, until it comes back. Yeah?" "Appreciated." "Of course." Evelyn swayed her skirt bashfully. "Caleb?" "Mh?" "Thank you." She pulled him in so she could plant a kiss on his cheek. "You've been my hero today." Caleb's limbs were full of pink and red butterflies. He laughed nervously and swatted his hand around in the air. "Oh! PFSH! O-Of course! I can't just- You're a maiden in distress! It's only the right thing-! Anytime, milady." And theatrically rolled his hand before bowing to her. And that got him in the right height for both of her hands to cup his face. "I think you deserve one more then." And kissed him on the side of his nose, his forehead, and when his smile spread his lips wide across his face, she kissed the dimple by his side. And that was enough. Caleb crumbled, and turned away from her with an incoherent sputtering of words. She smiled. Caleb put his face in his hands to cool, stroked them through his hair and coughed. "TEA?" He offered, gesturing at the stove. "Er- not, that tea, better tea." "Sure." And took a seat nearby him.
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brodieland · 10 days
Text
.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 always matching, now the matched ´ˎ˗
Percy Jackson x Fem!Eros!Reader Synopsis: She's cupid, but doesn't believe in love. Yet here comes Percy Jackson, believing other wise Warning(s): potty words, LOL! Word Count: 4420 PART 2
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Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of Eros, also known more famously among mortals as Cupid.
When Y/N first arrived at camp, she wasn't claimed yet. While stuck in the Hermes cabin, she would listen into a lot of gossip (Hermes kids loved to gossip!!). When she had heard about her new friend Silena Beauregard and her ongoing crush on the Hephaestus boy, Charles Beckendorf, Y/N decided to step in. She would be on both ends giving each other advice on one another. Eventually she finally got Bechendorf to ask the amazing Silena out on a date, a real date and not the friendly hanging out they did before that.
The next day when they finally announced to their friends that they were in a relationship, above you appeared a bow and arrow surrounded by hearts. At first they were confused until Chrion announced Y/N was being claimed by the god Eros. The god of desire, erotic love, attraction and affection. Ever since then, she lived up to her legacy at camp, and always had people asking her for advice on love.
Love.
Despite being camp Half-Blood's new found resident cupid, Y/N herself had never been in love. She found love a beautiful, yet terrifying experience. Love is showing someone your most vulnerable side for an experience of comfort, an experience that isn't guaranteed to last. It's not like Eros stuck around with your mom. Others craved it, and Y/N serviced it, and she was fine with staying behind.
Before coming to camp when you were 15, you watched your mom never manage to move on. She had fallen in love, and she had fallen hard. Hard enough to have a baby with a man she'd known for such a short amount of time. He'd left and for years your mother was heartbroken. You had step-father after step-father, though they never lasted, they were just to fill the void. You grew up never understanding why people ever bothered with something that wouldn't last, but it never stopped them. You always thought if you couldn't help your mom, you could help others.
As Y/N strolled along the green of camp, she watched all the newer found couples be all lovey dovey with one another. 'You did this, and one day they'll get hurt.' She ignored her running mind and continued on with her day.
You walked down the beach in some denim shorts and a white bikini with mini pink hearts all over it, basking in the sunlight as it tanned your skin. The ocean looked beautiful as you watched Piper and Percy surf the large waves, though you thought Percy had something to do with the size of the waves.
"Hey guys," you waved to your friends as they walked out the ocean.
"You here to enjoy the waves, too," Percy asked.
"The ones you're probably creating," you crossed your arms and the two just chuckled. You were correct though, when Percy stepped out the waves calmed down.
"Hey, could this be the day you finally let me teach you how to surf," Piper wiggled her eyebrows at you, causing you to smile.
"You know what, fine. Sure it is," you said. Piper started cheering as she made Percy go find a board for you to use.
"So, any new matches today, Cupid," Piper asked as she used the nickname that's become quite popular around camp. It was all anyone called you.
"Nope, not today. Everyones happy as they are. For now at least."
"For now?"
"Yeah, you know how I think about it."
"When will you learn that love can last? You don't have to be so gloomy about it you know."
"Spoken like a true Aphrodite kid," Piper just rolled her eyes. "I'm not judging anyone, its just not for me."
"One day it will be, and I'll be here to laugh in your face," Piper declared. You just rolled your eyes as Percy made his way back with the boards in hand.
"I got you a pink one, matches the hearts," Percy said as he handed you the board and gestured to your bathing suit. "Let's go!"
You were not a surfer to say the least, but you held your own. It was probably because Percy made the waves nice and small for you. You told him he didn't have to 'dumb down' the ocean for you, big mistake. You were knocked off your board and washed up ashore looking like the seaweed that washed up next to you.
"I don't think I'm a surfer guys," you said to your friends as they laughed at your current state. With your hair a mess and sand all over you, you looked like you ran through a hurricane.
"Maybe not," Piper couldn't stop laughing. Percy helped you up as were spitting sand out your mouth.
"Hey man, couldn't you help me out? I thought we were gang," You asked, gods you loved talking like a little frat boy.
"I'm the one who washed you up and didn't let the waves drown you???"
"Do I look like I wasn't just drowning," you gestured to yourself from head to toe, causing the two to just laugh.
"You look amazing," Percy said. "Like a 5 year olds shitty sand castle."
"After it's been stomped on of course," Piper added. You shook her hair back into place, sorta, and jumped back into the ocean to wash off the excessive sand.
"Yo Y/N," Percy yelled.
"Yeah," you turned toward Percy, and before you realized it, a wave smacked you from the side and knocked you back into the ocean. The pair on the shore were now doubling over, holding their guts in laughter. When you stood back up you gasped, inhaling oxygen like you've never before. "YOU'RE NOT FUNNY."
"We're laughing," Percy shouted back. You ran back out the ocean before Percy could send another wave your way.
"I need a shower, there's sand in places sand should not be," you announced as you walked off, waving your friends off. Eros doesn't have any other kids, so there hasn't been a cabin built yet. You walked in the Aphrodite cabin and waved at some of the campers as you walked straight toward the bathroom. When you were washing the sand out, you could hear some of the girls gossiping outside. Gods, you always wondered which between the Hermes or Aphrodite kids were the bigger gossips.
"I don't get her at all," one girl said.
"Yeah, how can she be like, so good with everyone else, but hate the thought of one for herself," a second girl said. Then the door opened.
"Hey, whatcha guys talkings talking about," a boy said.
"Cupid and how she refuses to get in a relationship," the first girl said.
"Gods, she soo hot, what'd I do for a night with her," the guy groaned. You just rolled your eyes as he further proved your point on why you'd rather not get into a relationship.
"Yeah she doesn't even like, just have fun with guys. She's like totally closed off," like, like, like. You turned off the water and started to dry yourself off.
"Literally, like it's the 21st century," you were tired of listening to the three go on and on about you like they didn't just watch you go inside the bathroom. You wrapped your towel around yourself, as tight as possible, and opened the door.
"Hey guys, whats up," you smiled as you walked toward your bed and going through your chest of clothes. Watching them go silent may have made your day. You walked back to the bathroom door to change. Before you shut the door, you turned back and said "I heard everything, and I don't need to be in a relationship to be happy."
You sighed as you put your clothes back on and walked back out the cabin, ignoring the silenced trio inside. You saw Percy walking back from the beach. He looked tanner.
"Hey Percy," you waved.
"Hey Y/N, you washed the seaweed out your hair I see," he smiled.
"You mean after you tried drowning me? Yeah I did wash it out thank you."
"I thought it was a nice little accessory no?"
"No," you deadpanned. "Anyways guess what, while I was showering I got stuck listening to people gossip on me, can you believe?"
"What could they possibly be talking about?"
"How I choose to stay single, like gods forbid. One of the was all like," you used air quotes and pitched up your voice, "like its the 21st century, blah blah."
Percy chuckled at your interpretation, "Wow, you should be an actor."
"Thank you thank you," you bowed.
"But really, Y/N, you're always helping everyone else get into relationships. How come your so against it?" You felt like a weight was dropped on your shoulders, like a shadow fell over your face.
"Nothing, dinners starting we should probably head over," you started walking, a neutral expression painted your face. You saw Piper and sat next to her, not before putting on a smile.
"Hello my queen," you beamed as you leaned your head on her shoulder.
"Hey babe," she kissed the top of your head as you leaned back up. You guys always joked like this. You got your food and started eating. You never burned your offerings, who would you pray to? Your dad? Eros? You never liked him after how he left your mother, and you decided to never pray to him. He didn't deserve the offerings. Your cabin mates came back and you all finished your dinner, now heading back to your cabin. You staggered behind slightly as Percy started to catch up.
"Hey Y/N," he sounded a little out of breath as he was walking next to you. "Look, I'm sorry if I said something earlier. I didn't mean to like offend you or something."
"Look its fine, I think I was just hungry or something," you said, kind of hoping he'd drop it.
"If you say so, just wanted to make sure we're good," it was quiet for a second. "We're good right?"
You chuckled, "yes Percy, we're good."
"Okay good," Percy breathed out as you slightly smiled. You both reached the doors of the Aphrodite cabin. "well, goodnight then."
"Good night," You walked into your cabin and headed over to your bunk above Piper. Lots of the other campers were up talking to one another from their bunks, but the second your head hit the pillow, you were out. And just as quickly as you fell asleep, you were pulled into a dream.
'You were standing in your old bedroom with your stuffed bear in your hands. You'd just woken up and were now staring out the window watching the clouds pass.'
You remember this, you were just about 4 years old.
'As you were cloud gazing, you heard your stomach rumble and made your way down into the kitchen. It was nearing 10AM so you knew mom was up. Normally you'd smell the breakfast from your room, but not today. When you walked down you didn't smell any bacon or hear any sizzling of the stove. All you heard was crying.
"I.. I can't do this anymore..." You knew that voice, you knew it better than any other voice, it was your mothers. "I miss him so much, and what do I do with her? I can't.. I can't tell her."
Up until now, you'd never heard your mother cry, but here she was pouring her eyes out. Who did she miss so bad? And why was she so sad they weren't here?
"Mommy?"
Your mom jumped as she wiped her face and turned around, clearly not expecting you. "Hey there sweetie, how's it going?"
"Why are you so sad," you walked up to her and hugged her leg. She smiled half-heartedly as she picked you up. "Why are you crying mommy?"
"Oh nothing, I'm sorry you had to see that," you may have been 4, but you can tell she was pretty upset. And you asked the worst question ever.
"Mommy?"
"Yes sweetie?"
"How come.. all the others kids have dads but I don't," you asked as softly as you could. You saw the slight switch in your moms face, before she quickly smiled again.
"Your dad was special, more than you know. He was amazing, I hope one day when you get to meet him, you'd understand how important he is, and forgive him for leaving." That's what she always said, and the more she said it, the less you believed it.
You woke up, not moving from your spot in bed. You laid on your side continuing to stare at the wall as a single tear fell from your eye. You hated that dream, hated it more because it was a recurring one. From that day forward, you watched your mom fall for different men, and watch it end the same way it always did.
You heard a yawn from under you, "Good morning, Pipes."
"Morning, cupid" Piper groaned. You sat up and hopped off your bed and sat with Piper. "Wanna try again at surfing or are you still a wimp."
"Definitely still a wimp," you laughed. There was a knock at the door and a boy walked in.
"Yo," Conner Stroll called out. Piper sat up and you both turned into his direction. Conner's eyes widen as he smiled and walked over. "There ya are cupid, I been looking for you."
"I told you I'm not helping you steal from the camp store again."
"No no not that," Conner clarified, "Though I do believe you should rethink that."
You glared at him before he continued, "Anyways, Chiron wanted to ask me to pick up some demigod that was found in Florida, but my license got um, suspended."
"What's this have to do with me?"
"Please cover for me, I get it unsuspended in three days I'm begging you," Conner got on one knee and pressed his hands together, pleading with you. You and Piper locked eyes and laughed. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing, I'll do it. Always wanted to go to Florida anyways."
You got up and got dressed in some normal clothes, opposed from your camp Half-Blood shirt. You put on a another pair of denim shorts, a baggy shirt, and some converse, before heading out to the big-house for the car keys.
"Chiroonnnnn," you sang out as you walked into the house.
"Ah cupid, there you are, I assumed you are here for the keys," you nodded as he fished into his pocket and handing you the keys. You found it funny how even the staff called you cupid, it was like an endearing nickname you supposed. "Can't believe Conner got his license suspended."
You laughed as you headed out the door, "Hold on!"
You paused and turned as Chiron called out, "Whats up?"
"I would appreciate it if you brought a friend with you, maybe Percy," Chiron suggested, you nodded and this time made it fully out the door. It's almost like he was summoned by speaking his name, because there he was.
"PERCYY," you shouted as you ran your way over. He turned over with a concerned look on his face. "Hey there."
"Y/N," he deadpanned, "Is there a reason that your screaming like someones chasing you?"
"How would you feel about leaving camp and picking up a nice ol' demigod with me?" You smiled. "Pretty please."
"You don't gotta twist my arm about it, I'll go change," you smiled as he walked off.
"Wow, you asked Percy but not me? I feel offended," you jumped and saw Piper standing behind you.
"Don't feel offended, Chiron suggested it you know."
"Hmm."
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing. Have fun being stuck in a cramped car with Percy," you had to take a double take.
"Whats that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, nothing-"
"If you say that one more time-"
"I'm back," Percy reappeared now changed into some jorts (I think jorts are underrated) and a baggy shirt. "Ready?"
"Ready," you said. You and Percy went and walked off, as you quickly turned back to glare at Piper. You and Percy kept walking till you finally made it to one of the black SUVs reserved for transporting demigods. Percy walked toward the drivers seat before you stopped him.
"You don't have a license?"
"I'm showing some good manners?" Percy said as he opened the doors and allowed you to step in. You thanked him as he got into the passenger seat. You guys were 2 hours into the drive when you both drove into the drive through of a McDonalds. As you continued driving you guys ate and listened to music. And though Percy wouldn't admit this, he loved Lana Del Rey.
They judge me like a picture book By the colors, like they forgot to read
The soul read was crazy! After about 11 hours, the both of your eyelids were falling heavy, knowing it was time to get some sleep. You parked off into an empty parking lot and rolled back the seats, falling asleep. Or trying to.
"Are you asleep," Percy called out.
"Yeah," you heard rustling in the seat next to you. You turned your head and saw him looking at you. "Why're you staring at me?"
"I'm not?"
"Whatever you say," you smiled. "Percy?"
"Y/N."
"How come you don't call me cupid like everyone else?"
"You have your own name, so why stick you with your dads name," Percy turned on his back. "You don't even like him, do you?"
You were quiet for a second. You never really opened up about him. Sure Piper knew that you never liked relationships, but that's about it. "No, I don't."
You were quiet a few seconds. You didn't think about continuing, but the words spilled out. "When he left my mom, she was never the same. She tried hiding it but the older I got... I don't even know. All I know is she couldn't love the same."
You stopped speaking and turned back to Percy who was listening to you intently, you felt encouraged to continue. "What really sucked was, all she did was talk about him with love."
It was silent again before Percy spoke up, "is that why you closed off being in love?"
You waited a second before nodding,
"Through this sting was Amor made wiser. The untiring deceiver concocted another battle-plan: he lurked beneath the carnations and roses and when a maiden came to pick them, he flew out as a bee and stung her,"
you paused, "at the end of the day, love just hurts people."
"We both know you know that's not the case," Percy said lowly. "Think of all the people you've set up, if you really believe that, then why help them?"
"Just because I'll never understand why people want love, doesn't mean I can stop it, can I?"
"No, guess not. Still, why do you really help them," Percy asked again, turning back to you. You thought about it again.
"Sometimes I wish I was just as naive as everyone else," you admitted. "I wish I saw love as beautiful as everyone else did, not as a bee waiting in the flowers ready to sting me when I got close. Or.. vulnerable."
"You seem pretty vulnerable right now, and last I checked, I don't see any bees around to sting you," you looked over at Percy who was smiling. His contagious smiling spreading to you.
"We have a long drive tomorrow, we should sleep," you said.
"Yeah. You're right."
"I normally am."
You both drifted off to sleep, and thankfully, there was no recurring dream. Just a peaceful sleep. You two woke with the sun as it blasted into your faces. After saying your good mornings, you drove off. Getting some breakfast first, of course.
Percy looked at you with his eyebrow raised, "I don't think a Baja blast is good for you at 8 in the morning."
"Shut the fuck up."
You were not a morning person, if it wasn't clear. You guys kept driving and driving before finally making it to the young demigod's house by 6PM. You and Percy stretched your legs before walking up and knocking on the door. An older man, who you assumed to be the demigods father, opened the door.
"Are you the ones from the camp," the man asked.
"Yeah, I'm Y/N, and that's Percy," Percy waved.
"Hello my names Richard," he introduced himself before calling down his daughter. "This is my daughter, Delilah."
Delilah waved at the two at the door, she didn't look older than 7. She had blonde hair like her father and flowers in her hair and mud on her hands, like she'd been out in the back yard.
"She loves the the garden out back, can never get her away from it," Richard said.
"Well good thing we have a lot of gardens at camp," you said. You watched as Richard picked up his daughter and hugged her.
"I'll see you at the end of summer okay? I love ya pumpkin," he kissed her forehead before putting her down. The scene tugged at your heart strings, the little girl on the inside was shaking right now.
"Hey Delilah, ready to go on a little roadtrip," Percy asked after kneeling down to her level. She nodded her head quickly while smiling. "Well cmon, no time to waste!"
He picked her up while jumping and skipping on the way to the car. You said your goodbyes to the girls father and headed back to the car. You watched as Percy effortlessly made the young girl laugh and smile, it gave you a warm feeling inside. It's a feeling you wish you had when you were younger. You envied Percy's future kids, he was just so good with people. Of all ages.
"Let's hit the road," you said while hitting the gas. You and Percy hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning, determined to make it to Delilah at a reasonable hour, so now the two of you were starving. "Delilah, you want some pizza?"
"Yes! Yes!" That's all you needed, you pulled into the first pizza place you saw, a 'Groovys Pizza & Grill.' You guys all split a supreme pizza with pepperoni, sausage, ham, bacon, green pepper, onion, black olives. Turns out little Delilah was a bigger eater than she looked. After about an hour you all finished eating and packed back up into the SUV.
It was now 11PM, you and Percy were determined to push through to at least 1AM this time. Not Delilah though, she was asleep in the back.
"You were so good with her you know," you said.
"Hmm?"
"With Delilah, its like it came natural or something."
"Maybe. That's just how me and my mom always were. We always had our fun, never made me feel different you know," you smiled. Percy always talked so highly of his mother. Never with an ounce of resentment towards her. It was beautiful. "You know, I watched my mom go through a pretty bad relationship too."
You turned for a second to see Percy completely serious about what he's going to say, "She was with this guy, I always called him smelly Gabe. He treated us like shit, but she stayed with him because he protected me. Not like it was on purpose, his smell was just so ass it covered mine. I thought after getting with a god, she'd never have the normally life she wanted. Then she met her new husband Paul, and I'd never seen her happier. I even have a new sibling now, Estelle."
You smiled, "That's amazing, I'm glad it worked out for her. With the way you talk so highly of her, she deserves it."
"Yeah, but I didn't just say that to gloat."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, sometimes a relationship goes sour. Sometimes that's how life is, giving up doesn't solve anything," Percy said as he yawned.
You drove in silence after that. He was right, but that doesn't make you less scared. You looked at Percy who was trying to get some shut eye, then at Delilah through the mirror up front. You always wanted to blame Eros for how he left your mom, well you did, but what good is that doing you? Missing out on a giant piece of life for the sake of resenting your father. Hades, after all this time, did you even know what it is to love someone? It was nearing 1AM, so you found another empty parking lot to fall asleep in before making it back to camp in the morning. Hopefully.
The next day, you three arrived at camp by 7PM. You might've broken some speed laws but you didn't care, you were tired of that car. You stretched out before walking Delilah to the main house where Chiron would talk and show her around. Now it was just you and Percy, walking your way to the dining pavilion where everyone was eating dinner.
"I hope you consider what I told you, you know," Percy said.
"What?"
"About getting over your fear. I knows there's someone out there ready to love you, trust me," you looked to Percy, watching him continue looking forward as he walked.
"I'll think on it," you almost whispered before looking back forward, nearly at your respective tables. You walked behind Piper, tapping her shoulder. When she saw you she put you in a bear hug.
"Pipes, I missed you too, but my ribs," you croaked. She let you go and let slip into the seat next to her.
"So, how'd it go?"
"Gods the drive was treacherous," you dragged. "But it was pretty fun."
"Fun?"
"Have some decorum please," you held up your hand. She smiled and so did you.
"But seriously, stop keeping the gossip to yourself," Piper complained.
"There's no gossip," you smiled. You remember watching how Percy acted towards a kid he's never met, and again, you felt the mix of the little girl in you and the you now sitting on this bench feel happy about it.
"Yeah sureee," Piper looked at you up and down before coming close to your ear, "because looks like cupid shot herself with her own arrow."
You just rolled your eyes, "did not."
"Whatever you say."
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allfearstofallto · 1 month
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I swear to God Childe has so much potential as a yandere, I have this feeling that his soul “died” when he fall into the abyss, after that major event he is a completely different person and his parents knows it they saw it in his eyes, soulless, thirsty for blood and violence.
Imagine him in utter shock when his kids get scared of him, not realizing his love is twisted and sick in the head after they saw how he treats their mother by trying to mimic what he thinks is “love”, how she gets anxious whenever she’s around him,they can hear her cry every night from their bedroom despite her trying her best to be the mother they deserve knowing the circumstances that led to their births, Generally children can feel when something is happening in their household but cannot fully understand it due to their age (lol speaking from experience).
He thought he’d have a picture perfect family with his darling, but why now are they seeing him as if he some type of a monster? That will for sure would make him insecure and it brings up the abyss memories. He claims he loves them and their mother so much but why does he hurt their mama?.
Friend, this is literally a full fledged fic already! And it's incredible!! I've been thinking on this idea for a bit already cause I already had an ask similar to it, so I'll add onto your fic just a little bit!!
Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader
Forced Marriage AU
TW: Yandere themes, reader has children
Growing up in a large family with so many siblings to love and care for, laughter was a sound that he often heard. It was his favorite sound, other than the distinct noise that blood made when it dripped into freshly packed snow. Snezhnaya is cold, but laughter coming straight from your belly is so so warm.
He loves coming home to the sound of laughter. Childish giggles and your rich chuckles. He'd sit his bow down to the side and close the front door to the manor, a noise that was rather loud. He'd be smiling ear to ear, wanting to join in on all the fun, only to realize that the house was now quiet.
Childe went to the living room, where you sat with his two sons. Your two sons. His little bundles of joy that he was eternally grateful to have. The younger one rested on your lap, the other on the carpeted floor at your feet, with a myriad of toys splayed in front of him.
Why did you always make that face at him, he wondered. Big doe eyes, like deer in headlights, you always looked so stiff and scared around him. Maybe that's why in turn, the kids made that same face, maybe that's why the laughter always stopped when he entered the room. The kids would huddle in closer to you and farther away from him.
"It's nice to see you all together when I come home," he'd say, with that smile still on his face, but you could see the edges of his lips twitching. He was forcing this smile and you forced one back, gently tapping your son with your foot to tell him to do the same. He hesitated for a moment, then beamed up at him with a grin, missing his two front teeth.
"We missed you, papa!" He yelled, just as you told him to. Just the way Childe wanted. Your younger son continued to bury his face in your lap, trying to look any where but his father.
Childe didn't seem bothered by this and leaned down to tousle the boy's orange hair, making him flinch in your hold, "I always loved that they got my hair color," he said while looking at you, eyes so dead and empty, you thought you were looking into a void, "I never realized how well my hair and your eyes went together until I saw them."
"Is that so, my love?" You spoke warmly while gently trying to nudge your son from your lap, "We could talk more about it now. I was just going to send the boys to their rooms."
His expression finally changed. The facade finally fell. His smile dropped and his eyebrows furrowed. You could tell that he was trying to hold the expression back, trying not to scare the children, but they'd already notice his change in demeanor. His shift in attitude making the air feel thick and tight, constricting your chest.
"Why would we do that? We can just talk together, as a family,"
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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months
Text
Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {1}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Reality just keeps crashing down around you with the repercussions of your pregnancy. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two
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“Max? Max, where are we going?” Max looked away as he walked by your side, his hand never leaving yours. “Max, no, no…”
The sounds of the ward forced pressure to crush down on your chest and made it hard to breathe. One room cracked open as a nurse left with white gloves stained red, and the wails of pain leaked into the hall. The heaviness in your head lifted enough to crane your neck to see the walls decorated with teddies with pink and blue bows and posters on breastfeeding. 
The cries of newborns came and went with the rooms that you passed and your brother looked at you with pity in his eyes. 
“I shouldn't be here,” you whispered as your gurney was pivoted into a private room and the orderly left. A tense silence filled the room while you waited for the doctors to come. “I shouldn't be here, Max.”
“You’re having a baby, zusje.”
Panic spiked and you looked down at your body in confusion and fear, your voice screeching, “Now?”
“No!” he rushed to answer before his tone softened and he took a seat beside you. “Not right now.  Look, we should wait until Charles and Lando get here.”
“No, no, I need to get out of here. This is a mistake.” You were quicker this time and tore the IV line from your hands before anyone could stop you. Getting out of the room was another problem, you felt like bambi on ice and could barely keep your weak legs straight as you stumbled to the exit. 
“Get back on the fucking bed,” Max growled as he blocked the door. “You may not believe it, but it’s not just you that you’re risking because you’re being stubborn.”
Your hand reached for the soft skin of your abdomen before you forced it to your side again in a fist. “Do they know? Is that why they aren’t here?” 
“What are you talking about? Can you just get in the bed!”
“No, Jos left after mum got pregnant. Daniil and Kelly broke up after having P,” your voice broke as you dropped your head and sweat dripped down your neck. “Babies change things, is that why they left me?”
“Oh, zusje, no.” Max closed the space and pulled you into his arms. “They haven’t left you, I told you they are on their way. Charles was by your side the whole time and they wanted to come in the helicopter but they couldn’t. Don’t you remember?”
You shook your head against his chest, unable to see that the door had opened behind him. 
“Those two love you, and they aren’t leaving you.” Max looked over his shoulder and stepped away so Lando and Charles could calm you down in a way only they had the power to do.
“You must be crazy to think we would ever leave you, baby.” He took your hand and paled at the sight of the blood seeping from where the IV was. 
“What have you done, amour?” Charles sighed and shook his head. “Get her back in the bed, she’s still too warm. I’ll go find a doctor.”
“Sorry, she freaked out at the news.”
“We should have been here with her,” he said wistfully as he watched Lando carefully lay you back on the cooling pad and wrap the chilled blankets around you. 
“You should have worn a fucking condom.” Knowing his temperament was unstable, Max nodded his head to the bed and excused himself. “You stay here, I’ll find the doctor.”
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For the second time in less than 12 months you were staring at a contract that was null and void. It was hard not to resent the little bean growing inside of you at the turn of events but it wasn’t her fault that you had a moment of stupidity when you were drunk. No one publicly knew the full extent of your condition outside of the handful of people who had signed NDA’s. You still didn’t quite understand it. Obviously, you did, but some part of your brain still refused to accept it. 
You hadn’t been able to say anything after the doctors told you everything that had come to light while you were unconscious. You had just curled up on the temperature controlled bed and fallen into a state of disassociation. It had taken almost two days for your body to regulate its own temperature again and you were almost ready to be cleared to be discharged. 
You had undergone test after test to make sure the baby was healthy and a small knot in your stomach unclenched when they said everything came back as normal. You picked up the picture of the sonogram again, searching the image for a connection that would make it real. But all you saw were ten fingers, ten toes and a big head. Charles joked Lando was definitely the father. Max kicked a chair and walked out.
“Shouldn’t I feel…something?” you asked quietly, your voice hoarse from the lack of use. 
Lando shared a look with Charles before climbing onto the bed behind you and curling his body around the shape of yours. He kissed your shoulder and his fingers brushed your shirt up so he could rest his hand over your abdomen. 
“There’s not even a bump,” you whispered. 
“I know you’re scared, baby, but it’s going to be okay,” Lando promised. “Charles and I will be by your side the entire time.”
You tucked the picture back under your pillow and closed your eyes. The toll the race took on you was still draining your energy quickly between the many naps you had taken. “I want to go home.”
“I’ll go find Max,” Charles said, knowing no matter how angry he might be he wasn’t going to abandon you.
You didn’t open your eyes as you shook your head. “No, not Monaco. I want to go home.”
The warmth being you disappeared as Lando rose from the bed and pulled out his phone. “I’ll call your mum.”
“I’ll book the flights.”
“And I’ll go to sleep.”
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Your replacement had been confirmed before you even reached Doha Airport. It felt like the universe was kicking you while you were already down but someone had to be ready to drive in Austin, and Fernando certainly had the experience. Plus, he couldn’t get pregnant and fuck up the team’s plans for the season. 
Lawrence had tried to fire Kristian for not including pregnancy tests with the rest of your regime, but since he was employed directly by you the most the bastard could do was ban him from the Aston Martin hospitality areas. Kristian had apologised and sent flowers to the hospital, feeling guilty for not realising what was going on and for pushing you so hard. At least now you knew why no amount of training was helping you lose weight, it was only going to get worse in the coming months. 
“They’re all looking at me,” you huffed as you buried your hands in the hoodie you stole off Lando. “They know.” You had only just stepped out of the car at the terminal and you could feel the eyes in you. 
“No they don’t. No one knows, mon amour, and no one will until you’re ready.”
“Fuck, reporters are here,” Lando growled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and tucking you into his side protectively as the security detail surrounded all three of you. “You don’t have to stop or say anything, baby, just keep your head down.”
Questions were shouted through the wall of black suits that blocked you, their accusations and taunts trying to goad you into talking to them. You were accustomed to the barrage but your exhaustion and the somewhat turbulent emotional state had your teeth gritted.
“Mr Stroll, the senior, has stated Alonso’s return will be positive for the team and he is expecting a much stronger finish to the season with a man in the seat. What are your thoughts on that?”
“Mr Stroll has been wanting a man to drive for him all season, I am glad he’s finally found one. Maybe he can replace Lance next and have it as a two man team.”
“Ma chérie,” Charles warned quietly.
“As for my thoughts, well Fernando can have them and my prayers when he realises what a shit box the car has become. I wish him all the best.”
You hadn’t realised you had pulled out of Lando’s embrace and were heading towards the reporters who were swarming with all the wild enthusiasm of a shark smelling blood. Suddenly the space between the security guards was blocked and it was Charles who curled an arm around your waist, guiding you towards the special entrance to the departure lounge. 
“Take a breath,” he murmured in your ear.
The rush of blood made it almost impossible to hear him and you realised how worked up you had gotten over the question. They made you want to rip your hair out. All that repeated in your head was the final question that had been shouted while you were led away. Twice you had your contracts voided, two teams, which meant you were the common denominator. Were you the problem in the sport or women in general?
“Congratulations. You just ruined any chances of another female getting to the same level. I always said women are too messy for this sport, too emotional.” You hated that you could still hear Jos snickering in your head and Charles wiped your cheek, his fingers coming away wet.
“It’s not fair,” you choked as you buried your face in his chest. “All I wanted to do was race, ever since I was a kid, Charles. I don’t know who I am without it.” 
“I know it isn’t fair, amour, and I’m sorry,” he said softly as he wiped your tears away. “But this isn’t the end, you can still come back. You are a World Champion, that doesn’t change because you had a baby.”
You laughed before sobering up. “Oh wait, you’re serious…”
“Of course I am, and I know you. Stubborn, strong, stubborn,” he smirked. “You thrive on doing what people say you can’t do, on what you think you can’t do. It’s why I fell in love with you, the day you beat me for the Monaco Kart Cup.”
You did love to prove people wrong, so maybe there was a chance - however small - for a return in the future. Whether someone would be willing to take a risk giving you a seat again would be a problem for another day, or year.
“I’m surprised you noticed me,” you admitted as you started to relax again in the empty hall that bypassed the busier areas of the airport. “I didn’t think you could see anything through that Beiber hair you had going on.”
“I saw enough to know you held my heart, and my trophy.”
Lando draped his arm over Charles’ shoulders and pinched his cheek. “Who knew you were such a romantic?”
“Everyone,” you smirked at Lando, “because he’s french.”
You laughed as Charles gasped as wriggled out from between you, pacing ahead on his own. “You know I am Monegasque.”
“You are?” Lando played dumb, scratching his head at the regular joke. “When were you going to tell us?”
A frustrated groan echoed down the hall and you giggled along with Lando before catching up.
“Someone should probably explain that to Arthur, he still thinks he’s french.”
Click here for the next part.
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rayroseu · 3 months
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groovy source
GODDDDD I LOVE HIS DUALITY SO MUCCCHHHH 😭😭😭😭💚💚💚💝💗💘💕💖💖💖💞💞
I love how his implies that Malleus normal smile looks "sweet enough" He still looks intimidating honestly AHHSHQHS and on groovy HE IS FULL SMILING and yet its way more scary 😂 Its a nice reference to Malleus' Dorm Vignette where Lilia says "What! But youve got such a cute smile! 🥺" when Lilia was so baffled that Malleus was still scary for others despite smiling HSHDHAHA
Arm on chest and the other outstretched.... HE'S DOING A FREQUENT MALEFICENTS POSE AAAAAAHHH😭😭😭💚💚💕💞💕💘💞💘💞💞
i love the fact that he's plotting against Aurora and Philip LOL, And its their ballroom dance scene too!!! Which meant he didnt like their "happy ending" AHSHAHHAA I wonder if he's going to say something about Prince Philip "prince qualities" 😂 I hope his insults dont hold back against Prince Philip 🙌🙌💕💕✨✨✨
(To connect this with Silver Owls 💀💥)
I wonder if theyre going to imply a bit about how audacious Aurora and Philip was to celebrate defeating Maleficent in the film... Just like how shameless it was for Silver Owls to renovate Meleanor's castle right after her death 🥲🥲🥲💔💔💔 I think I'll be killed if he comments about Meleanor just a tiny bit JSBAJJDS
I love the lighting so much!!! And his eyes are glowing too!!! 💚💚😭😭 The purple lighting under the clothes... It feels like he's already casting void magic to plot smth against Philip and Aurora lol That's unlike the other groovies.... I HOPE HE EVIL LAUGHS AUYDUWYRUWDH💖💞💗💘💗💘💗💞✨✨✨
EDIT:
Wait no his pose actually reminds me of how men curtsy before a dance lol he bows, puts an arm over his torso and outstretch the other.... JWJDJAJS To me, its like hes saying he can be a better dance partner/prince than Prince Philip LMFAOOAOA
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The Scars On His Back
Just going to slowly reupload my fics...two at a time...
Summary: Astarion has a nightmare and goes out to the forest for a breather when he runs into you.
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He’s back there again, with the feeling of a knife tearing into his back, carving up his flesh. Blood runs down his body, creating rivers of crimson on his pale skin and drips onto the floor, pooling between his feet. He can feel the stickiness of the liquid penetrating the gaps between his toes, the feeling sending shivers up his spine. His lifeblood drains with each moment, the pain overwhelms what is left of his soul and tears his body apart, sending screams ripping from his throat until his voice is hoarse but it never stops. The knife digs in again and again, the pain harshly dragging him back into reality each time he drifts off too far into the black void.
And then he wakes up with a start to the mess that is his tent, chest heaving out of habit and a sting in his eyes. His hands tremble as they reach up to wipe his weakness away, nearly causing him to nick himself. He presses his hands against his face, shakily drawing deep breaths.
He’s far far away from there now. He’s safe from him , with the tadpole in his head. He won’t have to bow and scrape to him as long as the tadpole remains. As long as you shelter him.
Hastily throwing on a tunic to cover up the scars, he heads outside his tent for some fresh air, to be away from the stuffiness that his tent brings tonight. The night air is cooling, a gentle breeze whistling through the still camp. Moonlight spills through the tree canopy, shining beams of silvery light upon the various tents pitched around the once burning campfire.
Quiet trills of nighttime creatures fill the silence, the smell of your blood wafting from…hold on. The smell of your blood? Ruby eyes widen and his feet move in the direction his nose is picking the scent up from before his mind can register anything. You are injured , his half-awake mind processes, a small pool of panic bubbling within his chest as he quickens his pace. How bad are your wounds? Have you been attacked? Will he make it in time?
He bursts through the trees, gaze frantically searching for any signs of an attack but all he sees was you. There is no sign or scent of enemies, only your lonesome figure sitting sheepishly on a rock, crimson liquid seeping through your fingers.
“Hi Astarion,” you smile, waving awkwardly.
“Y/N!” He hurries over to your side. “You’re bleeding.”
“So it seems,” you chuckle. “A small accident, really. I merely slipped on some wet grass and cut myself on the sharp edges of the stones.”
“You really are the clumsiest person I know, darling,” he shakes his head with a sigh, taking out some bandages and ointment. “Let’s treat this wound of yours before it gets infected. Wouldn’t want a small accident to turn into a big mess now, would we?”
You nod, biting your tongue before words that will ruin the mood slip past your lips. It’s better to keep to yourself how prepared he was to treat your injuries, and especially the fact that you could tell he was worried about you. Then an idea hits you.
“Since I’m already bleeding, do you want to feed on me?” The question sends his head shooting upwards, a quizzical look on his face.
“Feed…on you?”
“Yeah, like drink my blood since it’s leaking out of my body anyways, would be a shame if so much of it went to waste,” you can’t help but grin, “I can see your fangs peeking out, you know. Go ahead and drink, I don’t mind.”
He opens his mouth, moving it closer to your wound. The sweet scent of your blood hits his nostrils hard and they flare in response, hunger gnawing in his chest. You had offered your blood to him, what did you want in return? His body? His services?
Ruby red eyes search your face, waiting for you to lay down your conditions but you simply press your bleeding arm to his lips with a small smile, dabbing a sliver of blood on his lips.
“I mean it, Astarion. And no, I don’t want anything in return. I promise.”
A small puff of breath leaves his lips at your words and his tongue darts out, gently licking a stripe up your arm. When you don’t pull away, he gets a little bolder, sucking blood from the open wound. You hiss softly when his fangs dig in, drawing more blood from your body but keep your arm steady. He hungrily drinks it all in, the sweet flavour bursting in his mouth.
You don’t know what compels you to do it, but your other hand moves towards his hair, gently running your fingers through his silver curls, twirling the longer strands around your index finger. You carefully avoid touching his ears, knowing how sensitive they are and instead tangle your fingers in the hair at the top of his head.
He quietly purrs against your arm, pressing his tongue against the wound to staunch what bleeding he can before cleaning the wound thoroughly with a damp cloth, sending vibrations running up your arm. Gently dabbing the ointment on your arm, he wraps a bandage around the wound, pressing one last kiss to it before standing back up, offering a hand.
“Shall we return to camp before the others begin panicking? I doubt they can function without the both of us.” The smile on his face is filled with apprehension, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Astarion –”
“Don’t you worry, my sweet. I’ll repay this debt of yours as soon as possible,” he winks, pulling you to your feet. “You won’t regret it in the slightest.”
As he turns to leave, you shout.
“Astarion!”
He stops in his tracks, turning around. Muscles tensed, he tries to cover up the fear that is thrumming through his veins with a feigned smile, hoping it’d mellow out your anger. After all, you could neve resist his smile…right?
You see the way fear flashes in his eyes and immediately regret raising your voice, even if it was out of frustration directed at yourself. Taking a deep breath to clear away your anger, you hold out a hand in peace offering.
“I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. I’m not mad at you, I’m just…” Your voice trails off. How do you even justify what you just did? You know of the horrors Cazador inflicted on him, and yet you still lash out.
“It’s quite alright, Y/N,” he chuckles nervously.
You vigorously shake your head, “I really am sorry about it. There’s no way I can justify raising my voice at you, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was really frustrated at myself for not being able to convince you I didn’t want anything in return, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Astarion searches for any sign of a lie in your words but finds nothing. You really meant it. Every word you said. Your apology, your insistence on needing nothing from him after he had just fed on you, all of it was sincere and genuine. His undead heart skips a beat and suddenly the night doesn’t feel so cold anymore.
You care about him.
Before he knows it, his feet carry him over to you once more, his hand sliding into your outstretched one. The warmth blooms from your palm and winds around his cold one as your fingers intertwine with his.
“Y/N,” he breathes.
“Will you accept my apology?” You ask softly, eyes downcast.
“Of course, dearest. I always will,” he leans in, lips hovering over your forehead. Can he kiss you? Will he taint you if he does?
You tilt your head upwards, meeting his lips with yours and he immediately melts into the kiss. Unlike his previous kisses, this one is filled with care and love, not the usual lust and passion he’s used to receiving. Your arms wrap around him, hands resting on his back where scars tell of his past and he reflexively tenses. But this time, the hands on his back mean him no harm. They lie there to pull him closer into your warm embrace, to protect him from those who seek to harm him. So he lets them rest on his vulnerable back, soaking in the strange warmness that the simple action brings.
Astarion closes his eyes, putting his own arms around you. It’s weird, hugging someone for the first time. You don’t mind his cold dead fingers resting on your back and even press closer against him, enveloping him in your warmth.
When your lips part ways, he doesn’t say a word lest his voice wavers and betrays him. He lets you do the talking, relishing in the way you hold onto his hand tightly. Not a single move is made when you lead him into his tent, only letting go of his hand to help him tidy up his bedroll. You make sure he’s comfortable before turning to leave, pausing when he calls out your name in such a gentle manner.
“Stay…with me?” He begs. Your heart aches from his tone and once more you’re reminded of how much he hurts on the inside, so you backtrack and wrap your arms around him.
“Always.”
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peachsayshi · 11 months
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ EX-BOYFRIEND HCS (feat. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso) 
minors / ageless / blank blogs dni
ˋ°•*⁀➷  tags: angsty, mentions of break ups, mentions of make ups, mentions of commitment issues, I’m keeping all of this kind of vague.  
ˋ°•*⁀➷  notes: decided to finally edit up this post that I wrote xo I hope you enjoy it! feedback/reblogs are always appreciated <3 
wc: 1,204
gojo:
he understood why you ended things with him. he’s not an easy man to love, he doesn’t exist in a world where a life can simply be built. he didn’t fight you on your decision or beg you to change your mind. there is nothing he can offer in return which is why he conceded in letting you go, even though the choice destroyed him beyond comprehension. this is the first time he’s ever felt truly broken and he chooses not to cross paths with you for the sake of his own wellbeing. 
but still, he can never fully erase you from his life. you were his pretty light, the spark of happiness that brought him profound joy. he can’t help but succumb to an opportunity of sneaking back in, even in the smallest of ways. besides, the break up didn’t end with fighting or hateful words, it was amicable - so, why can’t he show any signs of fondness? 
these excuses come with every birthday, holiday or special occasion. you always receive a thoughtful gift wrapped up in a pretty bow. gojo never includes a card, but the way your heart seizes up tells you that it is from him. it lingers in your mind that he still thinks about you, even though you are trying to move on. your heart fights you on every decision you make. you would meet bachelors who would exude perfection but they don’t even come close to the man you once loved. satoru gojo may no longer hold space in your life, but the painful reality is that there’s a void inside you that only he can fill. 
geto: 
the man who stole your heart - there’s an ache in the place where the muscle once resided. he snatched it away without even knowing, and disappeared into the shadows. you don’t hear from him at all, not even a single text or a phone call. the silence is absolutely haunting - he doesn’t know the hurt is the reason why you hate him, but how its also a reminder of just how much you love him. he makes time stand still - and your world stops moving. 
suguru should know better - this way is easier (or so he thinks), he had his reasons (or so he thinks). he spends his days analyzing this decision - dissects it, pries it open and pokes at it in all angles. every conclusion leads to him acknowledging that you deserve far more than what he can give you. but still it becomes his obsession, his source of contention and irritation. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before, but why can’t he snip the last tether that’s tugging at his heart? 
it’s him showing up in the middle of the night, taking in the stunned expression on your face after months of zero contact. he holds you with so much care when he apologizes, begs you to take him back as he whispers sweet words in your ear. you’re not proud of the way you melt right into arms, or how easily you invite him to your bed. you hate that you would let him break your heart a thousand times over, not knowing that he’'ll fight to his last breath just to mend it back together. 
nanami: 
messy is the only word to describe the break up. somehow it wasn’t even a one sided decision, but a point where neither of you were willing to carry on. the heartbreaking thing is that the two of you didn’t just end a relationship, you ended an entire life together. nanami never went into anything half-assed, and that included what he shared with you. now, he sits in his new apartment, most of his things still packed in boxes, and he can’t bring himself to settle down. you were the only home he’s ever grown to love and he can’t help but think what it was about this particular fight that defined the course of your relationship.
nanami was mature about the aftermath, but his removed behavior made you feel small, made you wonder if he was truly unaffected by the pain of separation. as you divide up your life you ponder if he’s reconsidering the entire decision as well. this whole blow up felt so stupid to you now, a minor blimp in the beautiful story of your love together. you knew he wasn’t good at expressing himself in the moment, but when he finally left the key to your place behind, everything came crashing down at once. 
you both have a hard time referring to each other as exes. you both still speak about one another with such tenderness. your loved ones pushed you both into seeking each other out, but neither of you were willing to disturb the other’s peace. you’ve both done enough damage, caused enough hurt that would last a lifetime. it’s only by chance that you stumble into him at a new coffee shop - like fate itself worked hard to ensure you swung the door open just as he stepped through the threshold, that your bodies collided at the right moment so you can see the missing half of your soul in each other’s eyes. 
choso: 
“can we at least be friends?” - how were you supposed to say no after you had just broken him. this man whose sweet heart radiated nothing but gold even though his eyes were full of sadness. he didn't ask you questions as to why you felt the need to end this, didn’t push your decision even though things were going relatively well. you were so thankful because the extent to which he loved you was petrifiying. you just needed to find yourself for a moment - to catch your breath, and ground your feet after floating on air. 
it’s hard to ignore that choso shared your body and heart. your friendship is so different, and you can’t help but feel like you were tiptoeing around a minefield. he looks at you with immense hope, and that optimism weakens your will. you don’t want to sell him any dreams unless you were sure yourself. so you try your best to keep things platonic - you make sure that you are never alone with him for too long, give other suitors a chance for casual flings, and even go as far as setting choso up on a date. 
you’ve somehow convinced yourself that this is good for you both, until choso asks “do you hate me?” - it hurts seeing him break before your eyes, listening to him question you if you’re doing all this because you don’t want him around you anymore. he tells you that it hurts and you don’t know how to justify any of your actions by using your fear as an excuse. he’s given you no reason to think he won’t cherish your love, and all you can think about is making him smile. waking up tangled between the sheet with him makes you feel sick. your heart races when his arm squeezes around your waist, when his lips brush softly against the back of your neck and you’re burrowing yourself deeper into this hole with no idea how to make it out safely. 
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sweetsweetjellybean · 4 months
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Return to the Need To Know AU for another night with your two favorite guys. This is a stand-alone, but you can read the first one here.
TW: No Minors. Threesome. Fem!Reader. Oral. PIV. Anal play. Spanking. Fingering. Toys. Orgasm denial. Possessive Steve. Softish Eddie. Let's face it, they're obsessed with you.
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"I never said to stop. Keep sucking, honey," Steve‘s voice is a mix of velvet and command. His rough fingertips slide a path up your spine from behind you. Exerting a firm, deliberate pressure as he clasps the back of your neck, his grip guiding you downward onto Eddie’s cock, your back curving into a deeper arch. 
"Jesus," Eddie groans, his head tilting back against the headboard, eyes sealed shut—his dark curls framing his face in a messy halo, the smooth planes of his chest flexing as he clutches at the sheets. Your fingernails push half moons into the firm muscles of his thighs as you gag, caught between discomfort and the urge to keep him moaning. “You’re doin’ so good, doll.”
Steve taps your clit with the middle finger of his other hand before sweeping it over your pussy, spreading the wetness upward to your ass and back down again. You whimper around Eddie, the flat of your tongue gliding over the vein running on the underside of his shaft as you take him deeper into your throat, your nose brushing the wiry hairs at his base. In a silent plea, you nudge your knees further apart while keeping your head bobbing in a slow, deliberate rhythm just the way Eddie likes.
 A low chuckle rumbles from Steve’s throat, but he gives you what you want, thick fingers sliding into both your entrances, automatically targeting those hidden spots inside that send your vision into a blurry haze at the edges. He pumps back and forth a few times before leaving you empty. A void that’s punctuated with a sharp slap that sends ripples through the fat of your ass. 
It feels like it’s been going on forever—this teasing. On your knees, ass up and spread wide on Steve’s bed, head bowed low, sucking Eddie's cock. Your hard nipples scrape against the linen duvet, sending tiny shocks coursing through as Eddie lets you take him right to the edge before he redirects you, fighting back his release, prolonging your torture in some unspoken agreement with Steve. 
Lit candles drip wax onto polished wood, the scent of smoke and cedar mixes with your arousal. Steve’s kept you on edge for so long, walking around the dimly lit room, the bulge in his boxer briefs evident, the lean muscle of his chest rising and falling as he instructs you how to take Eddie with your mouth. Watching you from every angle using the mirror that’s propped in the corner when he fingers you from behind only to then leave you empty and aching. Knowing it’s not the stretch of his fingers that you really crave. The inside of your thighs are slick and sticky, and you can’t recall ever being this wet. 
“So, so pretty,” Steve murmurs, hand gliding like a phantom over your calf and thigh, deliberately avoiding where you want his touch the most. “Make a mess, honey. Eddie needs your attention everywhere.”
The threat of tears prickles at your eyes as you allow saliva to trickle past your lips, cascading down Eddie’s heavy sack before massaging it in with gentle fingers. “Please,” the word escapes you in a hushed whisper as you pull your mouth from Eddie, your eyes lifting to meet his, brimming with a silent plea. His breath catches in his throat as he swallows hard. He’s too easy. You hide your smirk, your eyes change to smoldering as you stick your tongue out, letting it dance back and forth over his slit, swirling it around his crown like it’s your favorite treat. 
With a sudden, firm impact, Steve's hand comes down on your backside. “Don't be sneaky,” he warns, knowing it doesn't take much to turn Eddie soft for you. 
“I don't know, Steve,” Eddie says, capturing your chin between his fingers and tipping your head until your gaze is locked with his. 
Behind you, Steve takes that moment to fill you with his thick fingers. Your mouth opens with a gasp, a stark sound in the quiet room. The only other noise is the wet, explicit sound of his probing movements as he works both openings. 
The black of Eddie’s eyes begins to crowd out the amber as he watches your desire build. He pushes his thumb into your mouth, and you suck obediently. “She's been such a good little slut for us, maybe we should give her a little of what she wants.”
“I don't think she knows what she wants,” Steve growls out an answer, the pace of his fingers already bringing you close to the edge. Your moans muffled around Eddie’s thumb, grow more urgent as you drive your hips back, trying to draw Steve even deeper inside.
“That's okay,” Eddie holds your eyes, his voice a comforting placation, as he presses down on your tongue. “We know. Don't we, Steve?”
“You're right, Eddie,” Steve agrees, the cockiness returning to his voice, feeling your body begin to tighten as you start the climb to your peak. “We know exactly what she needs.” His fingers disappear, leaving you desperately clenching at emptiness, your orgasm once again fading out of reach.
“Don’t worry, doll,” Eddie soothes, withdrawing his thumb, letting it trail down your neck and chest until he’s circling your nipple. “You know I always take care of you,” he assures, leaning down to take your mouth with a tender kiss and a caress of your cheek while Steve moves around the room behind you. Eddie shifts on the bed, moving to sit on his knees, keeping your face positioned just above his cock, still glistening with the evidence of your attention. 
Something lands beside your legs with a soft thud. You turn your head toward the mirror just in time to see Steve’s boxer sliding down his hairy thighs. The sight of his impressive length standing hard and ready against his stomach sends a new wave of arousal, drenching your core with want. His fingers run through his gold-streaked hair before taking himself in hand, stroking from base to tip, squeezing his leaking head as his gaze stays trained on the way you’re spread open for him. His knee hits the mattress behind you, making the bed dip from his weight. 
“Eyes on me, doll,” Eddie says, drawing your attention back to him. “Let's put that mouth back to work.” His hand on the back of your head steers you to his waiting length. But instead of letting you set the pace, he takes control. Thrusting upward, using your mouth as he pleases.
From behind, something cool and slick drips down your ass as lube is liberally applied. Steve works some of it inside you, preparing you with a skilled touch, but instead of his cock his fingers give way to something larger, smoother, and unexpectedly warm. The silicone plug slides in with minimal resistance, the familiar weight settling within. You breathe deep at the sudden, intense fullness.
“Sometimes, I get the feeling you think you're in control,” Steve murmurs, his hands kneading the soft curves of your ass, giving you a moment to adjust. “But this,” he purrs, his finger trailing a path through your slick folds, pausing to apply gentle pressure to the plug, “this belongs to me. And I decide how to use it.”
Eddie’s hands frame your face, tipping your head back to look into your eyes, the corner of his mouth rising in a cocky smirk. Steve presses the plug again, but this time, it erupts with a deep rumble that ignites from inside you, sending a torrent of intensity spreading through your body. Your eyes widen, each breath now a sharp, gasping intake under the overwhelming rush.
“That’s it, doll, just let it take over,” Eddie whispers, his hands steadying your trembling form, your eyelids fluttering in bliss. “This is going to get you nice and ready for Steve’s dick. That’s what you want, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
“Shit,” you moan, clenching on nothing, your back arching higher, seeking out his promise. 
One of Steve’s hands grips your hip as he teases you with his cock, gliding it through your drenched center. “I was right, wasn’t I?” His tone is laced with smug satisfaction. “I knew you needed all your pretty holes filled.” 
“Yes,” your response is a breathy moan, hips bucking against.
He nudges at your entrance, the delicious pressure building. “You want my cock, honey? While Eddie fucks that smart mouth of yours?”
“Please, Steve, yes,” you cry, your head lowering and lips parting, eager to feel the weight of Eddie’s cock on your tongue.
“Anything you want, sweetheart, especially when you ask so nicely.” Steve begins his slow, deliberate entry at the same moment Eddie presses past your lips. Your world narrows to the sensation of being utterly filled, your mind clouding with pleasure. 
“Fuck, she’s tight,” Steve moans sliding in until he bottoms out, lighting you up as he glides against your snug walls.  
Eddie’s hips find their rhythm, the head of his cock rolling smoothly across your tongue, just shy of hitting the back of your throat. While Steve sets a pace of hard, deliberate thrusts into your cunt. His fingers digging into the flesh of your hips highlights his restraint as he moves with controlled intensity, resisting the urge to pound into you. Each rhythmic thrust hits that perfect spot, amplified by the plug's vibrations from the other side.
You surrender to them as your senses take over. The taste of Eddie in your mouth melds with the sounds of their groans and the steady slap of Steve's hips against you. It's overwhelming. All you can do is feel as they take their pleasure from your body, returning it in spades. The world beyond dims, your body transforming into a live wire, every nerve alight. You're rising from a place higher than you've ever known.
Your fingers grip Eddie’s thighs with urgency, desperate for leverage as the force of Steve’s thrusts drives you to take Eddie even deeper into your mouth. Eddie pauses with a firm hold on your head, granting you the chance to lavish him with your tongue."Your mouth is heaven, doll," Eddie murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Making it hard not to cum down your pretty throat.”
A low, appreciative hum escapes your lips as you hollow out your cheeks, the vibrations sending shivers through Eddie's body as he inches closer to his climax.
"You want that, don't you?" Eddie pants, his need palpable. Your efforts redouble, your hand joining the rhythm to pump his throbbing shaft. The thought of his warmth spilling in your mouth causes your inner muscles to clench tightly around Steve, earning you a low moan and a stinging slap on the dough of your ass.
“She wants it,” Steve answers for you. His thumb comes to rest against the plug, adding pressure in time with the drive of his hips, making your vision fuzzy and a quiver to your legs. The moans are escaping you unrestrained now. “But she’s going to come first. Want to feel her squeezing my cock.” 
With that, Steve's movements increase, becoming faster, his hips meeting your ass with every rough drive, punishing the spot that has stars filling your vision. You're propelled toward the brink, the waves of release surging higher, intense and overwhelming. The last bit of command you have over your body snaps like a fragile thread. The wave crashes, euphoria flooding your blood, pulling you under. 
Awareness leaves you as the plug is removed and you’re laid gently onto your side, your body still rocking with tremors. 
Light kisses are rained over your ribs and breasts, accompanied by soothing hands drawing comforting patterns on your skin. Plush lips cover yours, tender and patient. As you open up for them, a tongue brushes against yours. When your eyes blink open, you’re surprised to see Steve’s heavy-lidded gaze as he kisses you softly and with affection that usually remains hidden. The back of his knuckles brush your cheek as you return his stare, a tear spilling over your lash line. 
Eddie’s finger trace down up and down your thigh, ghosting over your pussy, causing another shock to jolt your body. 
“That was..” the words stick in your throat as you press another quick kiss to Steve’s lips.
“I told you I’d take care of you, doll,” Eddie’s voice is still heavy as he kisses a line from your belly button, moving lower. “Now it’s time to take care of us.” 
“What?”
A darkness falls over Steve’s eyes as he presses his hard length against your hip, and it dawns that neither boy has cum. “Don’t worry, honey, this is only the beginning.”
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AN: Thanks for reading. This one got away from me. I was in a mood. I blame...actually, I'll keep that to myself. I hope you enjoyed the filth.
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targaryen-dynasty · 4 months
Text
REWRITE THE STARS.
Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader
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Aemond arrives at your betrothed‘s funeral. And after being denied your hand in marriage once, he does not come to leave without you.
WARNINGS: angst? mentions of death, mentions of war, hinting at murder, kinda dark Aemond, female reader of House Baratheon (no mentions of appearance)
WORDS: 1.5 K
NOTES: Wow, feels weird posting something without smut lmfao. But… 👀 It‘s not mentioned, but someone particular and very jealous might have killed Lord Rosby, seeing that his House had deflected to the Greens at the very beginning of the war.
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The body of your betrothed had not even been lowered into the ground by the time the enormous wings of Vhagar casted a dark shadow over the castle of Rosby. 
He had been drowning in his own blood after being struck in his throat by a crossbow from one of the so-called Black’s, or so you have been told, and while the image of it had been quite unsettling, the funeral itself was not too bad. 
Lord Rosby was many years older than you, and you had been betrothed not long before the war started. The Lord himself had asked for your hand in marriage, and with your father still having four more daughters to spare for any kind of political alliance, he had all too eagerly agreed. 
Much to the disliking of the prince, who dismounted his large beast at this very moment. 
He had convinced your father to support Aegon in the war of succession by promising to marry one of his daughters. You had been standing next to your father while your sisters stood lined up for Aemond to choose, and even after stating more than once that you hadn’t been free to marry anymore, the besotted prince had just reluctantly agreed to take the hand of your older sister Floris in marriage. 
Marrying a young prince of a House as noble as House Targaryen seemed far more appealing than marrying an old lord of House Rosby, and for the short time Aemond had stayed in the Round Hall of Storm’s End, it seemed you two had shared the same resentment towards the man sitting on the throne right next to you.
The envy you felt towards your sister had been eating you alive, so much that you had requested for your belongings to be moved to the castle of Rosby just so you didn’t have to endure seeing her face any longer. That your betrothed was not even there at that time just made it better.  
Now your father – and possibly you as well – had to experience the consequences of his pride and stubbornness first hand, it seemed. 
Upon spotting the large dragon in the far distance, a few members of House Rosby had taken their leave to go into hiding, but you and your father stood strong, despite the risk of being bathed in Vhagar’s flames sooner than later. 
For your father, it might have been the belief in his allegiance to the King, but for you, it was your House’s words, ours is the fury – and your fury was solely aimed at the man responsible for your misery. 
The rustling and shuffling behind you indicated that the few people, that had remained at the funeral side, bowed to the approaching prince, their mumbled courtesies not prompting you to turn around. 
“Lord Borros,” his voice was cold and calculated, dragging a shiver down your spine. “I assume you know what I came here for.”
Your father sighed, barely audible to anyone other than you, but even then you refused to acknowledge what was happening behind your back. It was not your place to speak, as you knew you had little say in the matter. 
The steps of Aemond coming closer could be heard, his presence suffocating. "‘Tis clear that she is not to wed Lord Rosby anymore. He was slain in battle, and his death has rendered the marriage pact void,” he stated the obvious, not mincing any words. “I desire to take her hand in marriage now.”
“Lord Rosby is but a day cold in the ground. It is hardly fitting of us to discuss marriage before he is even laid to rest,” your father scoffed, the sharp edge to his voice causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand. “Besides, I have already given you the hand of one of my other daughters, Prince Aemond. Your House might do as it sees fit, but mine will not, and one wife is more than enough.”
At his bold statement, your body went rigid, more so as you merely heard Aemond humming in return. 
After that, a short silence descended upon the courtyard.
“Do not allow your foolish pride to cloud your judgment, Lord Borros.” You raised a brow at that, curious to find out what direction this encounter was meant to take. “You will not gain anything by denying it.”
Not watching the moment the knights lowered your betrothed’s body into his final resting place, you turned around. Your eyes drifted from the ground up to the prince standing not too far away, his lips curled, and a steely stare solely focused on your father. 
“Your other daughter is of no interest to me.” His face was unmoving, and his voice as sharp as a steel dagger. “I have made clear what I wanted when I first set foot in your halls, and now, I have come to take it.”
When Aemond turned his focus on you, you could feel his penetrating gaze weight over you, the intensity of his good eye being enough to make you shiver. Yet, there was something about him that lured you in, a pull that was impossible to resist. With the way his lips pulled into a smug smirk, you knew he had noticed the turmoil raging within you.
Aemond jutted his chin forward, addressing your father while looking at you. “I will take her with me with or without your blessing.” The cold determination with which he spoke had your blood running cold. “You may not have the power to deny me the chance to wed her, Lord Borros, but ‘tis your choice whether you allow it to happen in your halls.”
Gathering your thoughts, you raised a hand to stop your father from speaking even before he had opened his mouth, yet you averted your gaze down to the ground, not able to meet either of their gazes. “The war has already been harsh for the Stormlands and the entire Realm, father. I have seen men return, bearing corpses of husbands and sons,” you said, keeping your focus on the ground beneath your feet with your voice unusually stern. “If this is the only way to bring peace to our people, then so be it.” 
You glanced at your father, and the scowl on his face was almost enough to make you retreat. 
Ours is the fury, you remembered. 
“The Lord Paramour of the Stormlands does not bend to the whims of some Targaryen–” 
“Enough, father,” you interrupted him, your voice stern once more. “The Stormlands have been bleed dry, peace is what matters. If my hand is what Prince Aemond desires, he shall have it.”
Your father grunted in disbelief, not expecting you to speak against him and surrender so easily. 
Aemond’s eye drank you in once more, and the smug smirk his lips had held before had returned, adorning his chiseled features. “Very well,” the Prince Regent declared, moving toward you with a hand outstretched. He intended for you to place yours in it, which you did after a second of hesitating. 
Before he led you towards the beast waiting outside the castle’s walls, Aemond turned to look at your father one last time, the smugness fully taking over his stance and demeanor. “I suggest you start preparing for the wedding, my lord, that is, if you wish to retain the title you currently hold.”
The threat hung in the air, gagging you and making it impossible for you to breathe. You did not meet your father‘s eyes, for you were certain the disappointment flashing in them would burden you even more. 
Silence surrounded you two on the walk towards his dragon, safe for the ‘you chose wisely,’ he had mumbled as you passed through the castle’s gates. These three words had your eyes widening, regarding the prince carefully. 
There was a strange lightness in your stomach as you approached the looming presence of the prince‘s beast, happy and afraid for what was to come at the same time. Were you meant to follow the same tragic path other women that had married a Targaryen prince had taken? Or would your future look different? 
An unfamiliar heat emanated from the dragon the closer you got, pulling you out of your thoughts. There was little time for you to adjust to its presence before your now betrothed urged you to climb the ropes leading towards the saddle on its back. 
“I will be right behind you,“ he said, a poor attempt to calm your fluttering nerves. 
With a bow of your head, you hesitantly reached for the thick ropes and started climbing the beast, the act itself proving to be a great challenge.
Aemond strapped you to the saddle, sitting behind you to keep you steady and supported while the dragon moved to ascend into the sky for your flight to King's Landing.
And with one look over your shoulder, you saw the castle of Rosby and its village disappear in the far distance. 
You had yet to find out if you had made the right decision or not. 
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