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#I’m painting my walls orange
69potatowaffles · 1 year
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I have entered my Peeta Mellark era omfg the only blonde who can have my heart. And he bakes. What more does a gal need?!
People send fic recs I am listening thank you and goodnight
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arthur-r · 2 years
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progress on my painting from a while ago
#it’s still just very base layers but i hadn’t got a chance to do anything to it since that first day#(i’m borrowing my older sisters canvasses and she’s the one who has all the paints too these days which used to be mine#so she’s keeping my work in progress canvas with all her painting stuff and it only comes out of the whole family is ready to paint#which mostly just means us kids but only happens if my littlest sister is interested and today she was)#anyway im very excited to have a painting to put up on my wall of a bear playing cello#the end pin is gonna be stuck out real long too look at how far it is to where his lower foot is at#cause usually you don’t play the cello when you’re standing and if you do you often have a strap or something similar#but i don’t use a strap (mainly because i only play sitting down but like. if i stood i would use the end pin)#and so neither does he. one real self insert of an imaginary cellist bear he must be#also one thing i’m gonna struggle with is differentiating the cello from the bear in color. like yeah they’re different shades of brown but#i only have so much different colors of paint to mix together#but yknow what. things happen and that’s all they ever do and if it doesn’t look good then i’ll figure something else out#maybe it’ll have to be an orange cello. these kinds of things are unpredictable shdhdf#anyway i hope you think of me like i think of this painting (as a grizzly bear playing a cello or as a thing you like and are proud of)#but yeah hi im at the house of some cats right now. feeding them and such. but there’s this other unafilliated cat who belongs to their#roommate josh. and his cat is named bear so you’d think we’d get along but he’s scratched me in six different spots today#he always wants to eat the other cats food so i have to pick him up and carry him to another room and that makes him very upset with me#anyway the cats take a long time to eat and i can’t leave until they’re done so that i can let out bear when he no longer poses a threat#which means im just kind of chilling in a friends empty house (josh is gone for the moment) with nothing much to do except wait#and i’m sure hoping to walk home before it’s pitch dark out but that would probably mean giving up and letting bear out to steal their food#so good luck to me on that front. anyway im rambling a little i was just trying to post this picture shdhdhdf#so. i hope to work on it again soon in not very long. and i just really like painting things with a paintbrush it makes me feel less bad#when i mess up in whatever ways. because everyone always complains about traditional art so it’s more universal. i like it better though too#anyway i’ll be here for the next while just hoping to head home before 9:30. let me know if you need anything though#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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aliceinorange · 1 year
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finniestoncrane · 5 days
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Pleaseeeee can I have a softer Cooper who worries a lot about his girlfriend having to deal with people looking at them weird all the time, but who would be happy to yell "THIS IS MY MAN!" to anyone who would listen?
Willingly
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.5k i am already on the soft cooper train oh no lmaooooo just a little bit of soft boyfriend cooper, or as soft as i imagine he can get, being defended by his partner 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: guns, blood, violence, good old fashioned trope fic!
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Cooper struggled against your gentle grip, his gloved hand pulling away from yours, fingers no longer entwined with yours. You looked to him, noticing he was avoiding your inquisitive gaze, and then noticed the crudely painted sign on the wall ahead of you. The gates to the nearest settlement were just ahead of you. Your last stop before you headed on to the next job.
“What? Are you embarrassed to walk in here holding my hand, Coop?”
His easy, charming smile seemed a little off as he spoke to you, still looking straight ahead.
“You kiddin’? Darlin’, this is for your benefit. Not many settlements are alright with folks like me at the best of times, but with you on my arm? We’d both be in danger, and I can’t keep spendin’ all my time savin’ you.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“I can hold my own. You know that.”
There was no response, but you knew better than to keep fighting your corner in this particular arena. So instead, you sighed, placing your hands which now felt so incredibly cold and empty, back into your pockets to keep them from mindedly grabbing Cooper’s hands again. You couldn’t be too annoyed. For someone as stoic and cold as he could be, the fact he tolerated holding your hand at all was a pleasant enough gesture. But his willingness to offer up any form of physical affection dwindled completed when there was a risk of running into people. He became reserved, quiet, well-behaved almost. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, to be shy or to allow someone else’s opinions to hold him back. And admittedly, a lot of the time, you had worried that it was because he didn’t want to be seen with you. But you knew it was the other way around in his mind. He was afraid of how people would look at you.
As though he could hear your thoughts, knowing you well enough after all this time together, Cooper spoke finally as you sidled up to the gates.
“You wake up to this face smiling. You call me handsome. You say I’m charming. Good lookin’ I might be in your books, but there ain’t a lot of charm left in these old bones, sweetheart. I couldn’t talk my way out of an argument, and since you keep remindin’ me that I’m not allowed to cause problems everywhere we go…”
He tapped his thumb against the barrel of his holstered gun.
“… Then I just better not give anyone any more reason not to like me.”
“Well, I like you, Coop.”
“And I will forever question your judgement on that, kid.”
Smiling, you both passed through the open gate of the settlement and separated with a nod to get the supplies you needed. Quicker, and safer, to go separately. But still, you kept your head down, Cooper with his ragged mask up and his hat brim tipped to cover as much of his face as possible. Quiet, subtle, nondescript.
It didn’t stop them though, three of them. Pointing towards you, setting their beer bottles down on the stained and rusting bar top as they rushed to follow you.
“Hey! Hello there, pretty lady! You all alone?”
Turning, you spotted the colour of the uniform first, immediately recognising that you had made a mistake in even acknowledging them. That telltale burnt orange jumpsuit. The arrogance in their smug smiles. The Brother of Steel.
“No. I’m not alone.”
“Sure looks like you are… you know, maybe you could come on over and we’ll by you a cola?”
They laughed amongst themselves as you walked on. That one answer and a quick disappearing act was all you were willing to give them, turning quickly back and trying to lose them in the crowd as they slapped each other’s backs and spat to the ground.
And you thought you had been successful. You found a trader with everything you needed on your list before you returned to wait just beyond the gate for Cooper, no further interruptions to your day from the louts at the bar. But the entire interaction had out you on edge, so much so that when Cooper appeared behind you, leaning in without you noticing to whisper in your ear, you jumped out of your skin. Luckily, he was quick, and managed to grab your wrist before your fist struck the side of his face.
“Jumpy, aren’t you? Maybe you don’t think I’m so handsome after all.”
His wink made you blush, it always did, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning like a fool.
“You surprised me is all, smartass.”
Cooper smiled, tightening the grip on your wrist and pulling you closer to him. You feigned some resistance, pretending to put up a fight against his grin, his charms, his strength. But you were following his pull, your lips almost touching his before the blow was landed.
Cooper’s body was knocked completely off balance, his body falling to the ground in a cloud of dust. Turning in the direction he was hit from, you found yourself staring down the three members of the Brotherhood from the market. Holding back some of the choice words you had for them, you managed to narrow it down to one question simple enough for even them to answer.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Shocked by your ungrateful attitude, one of the men, the largest of the three, stepped forward and pushing your shoulder with his finger.
“We’re saving you from assault, lady! This monster had its hands all over you, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. And you’re welcome.”
You scoffed, face going red with rage as you knelt to help Cooper up.
“You’re not saving me, asshole! You’re ruining the fucking vibe, you dweebs.”
Again, a far more polite term than you had wanted to use, but that didn’t seem to make the men any less aggressive towards either Cooper or now you. The largest of the men grabbed your arm, pulling you back up and away from the hand that Cooper had held out to you.
“Oh… you’re one of those freaks! No wonder you turned down some good old-fashioned heroes like us then.”
One of the others nudged you to the side, the other pushing Cooper back down to the ground with a kick, turning around as all of them converged on you until your back was against the wall. Nowhere to go. Trapped by them as they made their disgusting comments.
“Why would you waste your time on some abomination like that, huh? You into freaky stuff? Cos I could sure show you a thing or two. What’s he got? Like two cocks or something weird like that?”
You spat out your retort, well aware of the repercussions, but not caring.
“He could be feral and I’d still let him touch me before I even thought about letting any of you near me.”
Bracing for impact, you squeezed your eyelids shut, opening them again moments later when you realised you hadn’t been hit yet. Instead, all three of the Knights were on the ground, Cooper kneeling over them as he tightened the lasso and added the long length around their wrists for measure.
“Oughta keep ‘em long enough for us to make our escape, hm?”
You nodded, smiling, surprised still at how effective he was at handling anything the Wasteland threw at him.
“And I did it all without too much violence and noise, like you asked.”
“My hero.”
You swooned playfully, watching him as he made his way to stand beside you, both of you looking down without an ounce of pity at the men who writhed before you in the dirt.
“And look at you, shouting all those kind words about me for anyone to hear.”
“I keep telling you, Coop. I can hold my own, and I don’t care what people think.”
“You sure about that, darlin’? The likes of these fellas don’t put you off none?”
His eyes darted towards the Knights, now trussed up and struggling against each other on the ground, straining their necks to move their heads out of the line of Cooper’s gun.
“What? You think I’m put off by the Brotherhood? Yeah… and the rads put me off stuffing tin after tin of delicious cram down my throat.”
Cooper grabbed your hand in his, initiating the contact for the first time, and pulled you away back onto the cracked road. He knew he’d let go before you hit the next settlement, but he felt a little bit better about the risks associated. Especially since he had to admit, you could hold your own. And you were determined to do so when it came to him. It was nice to feel like he could let the affection be reciprocated.
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mystellenia · 2 months
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shower sex with switch!ellie
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summary: when you come home from work, ellie just can't keep her hands off of you. when you move things to the shower, it gets steamy (do u get it bc its the shower and like the water is hot so- yup ok i’ll leave)
content: established relationship, switch!ellie (my gf), nipple play (r receiving), fingering (both receiving), dirty talk if u squint and shake the phone, reader is not a shy and stuttering mess!!
notes: none, i’m just eepy and my back hurts
(wc 1.5k)
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after your long day at work and ellie's nonstop painting, you couldn't keep your hands off of each other once you got home. you smothered the other in kisses, hands frantic to feel every inch of available skin. ellie's skin was dotted in all different shades of paint, so you thought it perfect to clean her off in the shower. 
you walk her backwards towards the bathroom, opening the door and turning the light on all without your lips leaving hers. you pull back to slide the glass shower door open, spinning only the hot dial all the way up. after realizing where you were going with this, ellie pushed you up against the sink, lifting you to set you on the counter and stepping in between your legs to begin trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, eliciting a shocked and breathy moan from you. "i wanna make you feel good, baby," she almost begs. 
seemingly frustrated by the amount of clothes still between you, ellie pulls away and says, "take your shirt off," before ripping her glasses off her face and quickly pulling her own over her head. she quickly lunges back towards your face to kiss you again, moving her kisses to your cheek and then the side of your head while she starts to knead your breasts. "you sound so pretty," she groans against your skin and brushes her thumbs over your bra-clad chest, just the feeling of you under her hands and the sound of your voice enough to unravel her composure. 
you tighten your legs around her hips, threading your fingers through her short, auburn locks and tugging. "ellie..." you plead—for more, for less, you didn't know. you realize it was for more when she reaches around you and unclips your bra, pulling it from your arms and latching her lips onto your nipple. "oh, my- ellie," you gasp at her mouth around you, her tongue warm and circling around your nipple while her hand pinches and tweaks at the other. the spots of paint on her body start to smudge from both the steam and your hands gripping onto her like a lifeline, painting her skin pink and green and orange. 
the air quickly grows thick from heavy breaths and steam, so you pull on her hair to bring her up to you and unbutton her paint-covered grey jeans, pushing them over her butt and down her legs. she steps out of them and reaches to your own bottoms, unbuttoning your slacks and tapping your hips to signal you to lift so she can take them off completely. you both strip the rest of the way and step into the shower, your bodies met with the scalding water. 
ellie gasps at the temperature, but all is quickly forgotten once your body pushes her against the cold tile of the shower walls, ellie wincing at the chill. you kiss her long and hard, your hand snaking down her body and rubbing her hip. your hand moves closer to her core as you lick her lip, nipping at it as you pull away to watch her face while you dip your fingers in between her folds. her face screws up and her head falls back against the tile, and you whisper "my turn" against her lips, your fingers beginning to work in circles around her clit.  
her hair falls wet against her forehead, brows drawn together so tightly it looked painful. you continue working at her, your other hand grabbing her jaw to tilt her head down to look at you. "hey," you snap, "look at me." you stop your movement between her legs to get her attention, and she opens her eyes just enough to look at you. she makes a noise between a whine and a moan, and you continue. "wanna bet you won't be able to stay quiet?" 
she shudders but fights your claim. "no, i can, i can do that. i'll stay quiet," she rushes out, willing to say anything for you to start moving your fingers again.  
you smile at her, slicking her hair back with your hand and rubbing the back of her head. "okay then. try to stay quiet and keep that mouth shut, all right?" you coo at her as she nods, snorting when she gurgles out a muffled moan at your fingers quickly thrusting inside her. "you'll be okay—should be easy enough." 
she looks down at your finger pumping in and out with her bottom lip swollen from biting it, your thumb firmly circling around her clit. you curl your finger in a scooping motion, and she tosses her head back and lets out a shaky breath, grabbing onto your shoulders for stability. 
the water continues to beat down on you, and you watch ellie intently as she opts for shuddery breaths instead of the moans and whines that she keeps having to swallow down. with her head back, you lean in to kiss her neck, and her hands shoot to your head and thread through your hair, lightly tugging on the wet strands. 
when her legs begin to shake, you add another finger, smiling down at her when she reaches out to grip your wrist. she moves up to stand on her tiptoes, trying to escape the overwhelming pleasure growing in her lower stomach. "wait, wait, wait, slow do- hold on," she babbles, her blunt nails digging crescents into your wrist. 
"didn't you say you could stay quiet?" you taunt, slowing your movements to a painfully slow pace. "you don't want me anymore? okay then."  
you begin to pull out but ellie's grip on your wrist tightens. "don't you fucking dare." 
"oh?" you say, cocking your head at her sudden attitude. "what happened to nice ellie?" you pout, but ultimately give in and return to your bruising pace. her tremulous breaths return just as quickly as they left. 
her body starts twitching, and you know she's getting close when she starts babbling and mumbling on about how it feels so good, how she's so close, and then how she can stay quiet when you roughly thrust your fingers in and give her a stern look. 
finally, the thrashing of her body stops as she cums, her right hand tightly over her mouth to keep her noises in and her left gripping onto your forearm for balance. as she comes back down, her eyes still glazed over and chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths, she looks at you in awe and slides her tongue over her bottom lip, breathing out, "jesus christ," before rushing at you to kiss you, her tongue dancing along yours. 
she leans down, wrapping her lips around you and sucking hard. you jolt at the sensation and clench your thighs, the skin slippery from your arousal. 
ellie wastes no time in taking her fill of you, her knee nudging yours open as she dips her hand in between your legs and abruptly pushes two fingers inside you.  
"you brat, making me stay quiet like that," she spits. "i don't want you to be quiet. i want to hear you." her hand starts jackhammering into you before you can respond, instead gurgling out a loud moan. "yeah, like that," she says, egging your loud moans on.  
her pace never falters, fast and relentless, each thrust of her hand bumping you against the wet wall and making you moan each time. your orgasm comes much faster than hers, and you finish with your voice high and strained, her name the only thing able to form on your lips. 
she endearingly rubs her thumb over your cheek. "you look prettiest like this," she says, following it up with, "let's clean you up now." 
she wets the sponge and pumps a dollop of body wash into it, intentionally skipping yours straight to her own, the lemon-rosemary scent filling your nose. she loved it when you wore her clothes; now you smell like me, she'd always say. 
after lathering it up with her hands, she passes it over your body, leaving no valley or crevice untouched. she greedily spends extra time on your breasts, passing the suds back and forth on your nipples. "ellie," you scold, rolling your eyes at her annoyed chuff. 
her hands direct you under the showerhead, the water now cooled down to the perfect temperature. once you're free of soap, you reach for the shampoo and squirt some onto ellie's head, setting the bottle down to begin working it into her hair. 
"ohhhhhhmygod," she groans, long and loud, leaning into your touch as her eyes flutter shut. "how did i find you?" 
you smile at her words and move her to set her chin on your shoulder to rinse the shampoo out, then do the same with conditioner. 
"oh man, baby, you just messed up." she pulls back to look at you, her eyes low and sated. 
your eyes flick between her own and look for any discomfort, your brows drawn in worry that you did something wrong. 
"i hope you know that i'm never washing my own hair again, right?" you shake your head and laugh, leaning in to place a kiss on her lips. "i'm okay with that." 
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a/n: did you know that a chuff is british slang for ass. what does that have to do with butts brits are weird (sorry all brits that follow me i love u guys)
@picklesarenice69 hi
click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶
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javierpena-inatacvest · 5 months
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Plaid Pajama Morning
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Summary: A sleepy Sunday morning with you and Javi in bed
Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 1K (She's just a baby)
Warnings: Allusions to smut, Javi being a cute lil sleepyhead, reader wears Javi's shirt, sweet fluffy adorableness 🥹
A/N: Shoutout to my dear @endlessthxxghts for letting me harass them with the thought of what Javi would look like with nothing but some good ole pajama pants and messy bedhead- now here we are 🫠 Idk why the thought of this man in pajama pants has me so feral but of well 🤷🏼‍♀️
Can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!
Sunlight spilled through your windows, the soft orange glow painting shadows on your bedroom walls from the curtains dancing in the crisp morning breeze. You gently stirred in your sleep, rustling the sheets and comforter around you, savoring in the warmth radiating from Javi's body as you nestled in closer to him, tucking your head against his chest and hiking up your leg over his. You felt his arm drape over your waist, tugging you in tighter as his thumb drew sleepy circles on the small of your back, the warm breath of his soft snores and dancing fingertips on your skin making a smile spread across your lips in your half awake state. 
Reaching your arm up towards his face, you let your hand cradle his jaw, the scratch of his unshaven morning stubble rubbing against your palm before running your hands through the bed–headed curls at the nape of his neck. A gentle sigh grumbled low in his chest, letting both his arms wrap around you, lightly pressing a kiss in the messy curls of your morning hair. 
The quiet silence of the early hours of the morning hung in the air, the sunrise just now bright enough to have you squinting your eyes, scrunching the sleep out of your face as a yawn bellowed from your belly, making you stretch your arms over Javi’s broad body. Wiggling your fingertips before bringing them back to twisting and tugging at his thick locks, your movement gradually began easing him more and more awake next to you. 
“Good morning.” Javi whispered, pulling you closer to the bare skin of his chest, letting your head lean against him. You couldn’t help but savor in the familiar scent of him lingering in the sheets, the sweet and savory smell of his cologne still idling in the bed, even after being dampened by a night’s worth of rest. 
“Good morning.” You grinned, your voice muffled as your words hit against his warm skin. The two of you lay there for a moment, drinking in the peaceful quiet of your sleepy Sunday morning. 
“How’d you sleep, Hermosa?” Javi cooed, letting out his own yawn, flexing his arms above his hand before making their way back to your body, letting his hands creep under the hem of his shirt that you had worn to bed last night, sliding his fingers up and down the fabric. 
“Good. I think the sunrise woke me up, sorry if I woke you up, too.” You sighed, rustling in the sheets, pulling them closer towards your face as the chill of the brisk December air filled your room, making you shiver and Javi chuckle as you wiggled against him. 
“Shhhh, don’t be sorry, Osita. Glad I got to wake up to my favorite view. The sunrise is pretty nice, too.” Javi smirked, now awake enough to let his lips find yours, a tender kiss catching the quiet chuckle escaping your mouth. 
“God, you’re so cheesy.” You giggled, gently shaking your head as you looked up to let your eyes meet with his, the dark brown glistening in the sunlight, making your heart melt just as fast as the first time you locked on to them. 
“It’s true.” Javi grinned, planting another soft kiss on your lips as he wrapped both his arms around you pulling you so close, that you thought your bodies would meld together as one. “You want coffee?” 
“I’m not sure why that’s even a question, Jav.” You teased, playfully raising an eyebrow at your husband, letting the hand resting along his jaw give his cheek a little squeeze. “Yes, please.” 
With one more kiss presses against your forehead, Javi let out a grunt as he rolled out of bed, running his hand through his hair and along the back of his neck before reaching down to grab a pair of pajama pants he had begrudgingly begun to wear as he accepted defeat that the warm weather of the late summer and early fall was long gone. While it was cold enough for pajama pants, Javi had still not deemed it cold enough for a shirt, which you couldn’t complain about in the slightest. 
Even with his body still slouched and sleepy, you couldn’t help but admire the muscles of his back as he stretched, your eyes trailing from the broadness of his shoulders to his waist, where his plaid pajamas sat low on his hips, the elastic waistband barely making it high enough to keep from falling off. His tanned and toned skin glowed in the morning light, accompanied by the wild curls of his untamed bedhead.  
You turned over, laying on your side as you rested your hand in your chin, elbow propped against the mattress as you watched Javi disappear out of the bedroom, only to return a few minutes later with two mugs, steam curling off their tops. Setting black Laredo’s Sheriff's Department mug on his nightstand, he passed the well loved and worn “Empire Strikes Back” cup off to you, and the goofy grin plastered across your face as you watched his broad body stride across the room, back towards you.  
“What’s that look for?” Javi smirked, sliding back into bed with you, shuffling himself under the sheets. 
“What? I’m not allowed to admire the view either?” You giggled, biting down on your lip before taking a sip of your coffee, letting the warm liquid run through your body and making your eyes widen just a bit further at the sight of your devastatingly handsome husband sitting next to you. 
“And I’m the cheesy one.” Javi teased, carefully grabbing your mug out of your hands and setting it down next to his before rolling over to cage your body under his, peppering ticklish kisses across your face and neck, making you squeal and squirm from his playfully loving touch. 
“Wow, teasing me and stealing my coffee before I’m even all the way awake? You’re playing risky games there, babe.” A mischievous grin spread between your lips as Javi’s kisses began to travel their way down your body, his head beginning to disappear under the covers, stopping at your stomach and peeking back up at you with a boyish smirk. 
“I think I know something that will wake you up just fine.” 
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Image description: A black and white illustration, designed to look like a book cover. On a decorative ribbon, the title at the top reads “External Memory”. A scroll work border of leaves and flowers divides the illustration into three rounded panels. The largest panel is in the center and shows a caravan surrounded by greenery, puddles and potted plants. The two smaller panels beneath it show a cartoon cat and mouse respectively, facing each other. At the bottom is another decorative ribbon with the text “a diary comic by My Murphy”. After the cover follows an 8 page comic. The style is cartoonish and the colours are soft pastels. Page one: An orange cat waves and says “Hello! I’m My.” The cat holds up a white mouse and says “This is Mouse, my girlfriend.” Caption: My name is actually My, but Mouse is a nickname for comic and privacy purposes. Caption: When I started this project, me and Mouse lived on a little island off the Swedish coast. The panel shows a stylised, tiny island with a lighthouse, spruce and birch trees, leaning houses and a little dock with a row boat tied to it. The cat and mouse are standing on the cliffs and a swan floats on the water in the foreground. Page two: Caption: Now we’ve moved to Ireland where we live in a caravan in the middle of nowhere. A small caravan, surrounded by greenery, overgrown trees, rocks, puddles and potted plants. The caravan has two windows and the cat and the mouse are looking out of one window each. Caption: We lived on the island to be close to my family. A ribbon with writing on it separates and labels four characters: “mom”, an ermine, “dad”, a wolverine, “brother”, a marmot and “step mom”, a squirrel. The ribbon has been torn in between “mom” and “dad”. Caption: and we moved to Ireland to be close to Mouse’s family. Three characters are shown, each with their own ribbon label. “mother-in-law”, a deer, “sister-in-law”, a jack russell terrier and “brother-in-law”, a hedgehog. Page three: Caption: Me and the mouse are currently in our thirties. The cat lounges on an antique fainting couch and the mouse sleeps on a cushion on the floor. On the floor is an open bag of “let’s” crisps and a laptop. Caption: We’re both pretty decrepit in various ways, so for this comic I draw couches and beds as often as I draw people. Caption: Disability isn’t especially interesting to me, but if a fish made an autobiographical comic… A fish under water paints a four panel comic with a brush held in its mouth. The panels the fish has painted show bubbles, waves and splashing water. Caption: …it’d probably be partly about water, whether the fish cared about water or not. Page four: Caption: My memory has always been pretty crappy. If a friend asks me: “do you remember when...” The question is shown asked by a red robin Caption: I usually have to answer: “no, I don’t.” The panel shows the cat giving this answer while looking away and blushing. Caption: There are many things in my life I’d like to remember. Mom the ermine watches as the cat opens a Christmas gift in front of a Christmas tree. The cat is much smaller than usual, its tail is bushy with excitement and it holds up a big book, “Mort”, with a skull on the cover. Caption: This comic is my EXTERNAL MEMORY so I can capture some of those moments… The cat admires a butterfly hovering above its outstretched paw Caption: …great or small. Page five: Caption: I try to make one strip per day, give or take. Pages with dates written on them blow off of a daily wall calendar by a strong breeze. As they turn over, comic pages are revealed to be drawn on the back. One comic shows the mouse with long fangs, biting the face of the cat and then hissing behind a bat wing. One comic is a pastiche of Tim Buckley’s “Loss” comic and one features a portrait of Frasier Crane and the Seattle skyline. Caption: and on the days when nothing interesting happens A close up shows the cat’s paw drawing a comic panel. In this panel a smaller, rounder version of the cat runs happily in the sunshine carrying a backpack. Caption: I reach back and draw something from my past. Caption: If you read this comic and wonder: A coyote looks at the comic on its phone, strokes its chin suspiciously and asks “did that really happen?” Caption: the answer is always yes. Caption: If you read this comic and wonder: A monkey reads the comic in zine form and think “did they really say that?” Caption: the answer is usually yes. Page six: Caption: When a specific phrase is the point of the strip, it’s recorded verbatim. The mouse says “you’re marching to the beat of the potato drum.” Caption: is a direct quote. Caption: When the point is something else, I sometimes take small liberties to make the memory fit well inside four panels. The cat sits at its drawing table, holding a pair of scissors in one hand and a paper with two comic panels in the other. Caption: Usually that means I make myself or the mouse play the part of the straight man because it will improve a joke. The cat and the mouse, dressed as clowns, stand in a circus tent. The cat pulls the clown nose from the mouse’s face and holds up a pie, ready to strike. Caption: In reality, neither of us is much of a straight man, but all art demands some sacrifices. Caption: In every way that matters, this comic always tells the truth. The cat looks up at a large, glowing, winged sphinx statue version of itself. The statue and framing is a reference to the all knowing Southern Oracle from the film adaptation of “The Neverending Story”. Caption: I am doing this to aid my memory after all, so it wouldn’t be very helpful to make my life seem more funny, interesting or relatable than it really is. The cat draws a comic while watching paint dry on the wall. Caption: That would be a pretty cruel joke to play on my future, more confused self. The cat scratches its head at a drawing of themselves as the winner of a beauty contest, wearing a sash and crown, waving to the crowd and holding flowers. Caption: She’ll probably have enough to contend with… The cat looks suspiciously at its own reflection in the mirror, not recognising it. The drawing is a pastiche of a panel from the webcomic “Gunshow” by KC Green. Caption: Maybe some of my comics will be funny or interesting or relatable to you anyway. That would make me very happy. The cat smiles and presses its paws to its face in joy, seeing that a bear and a horse are reading the comic together and laughing. Cartoon hearts float over the cat. Caption: Some of the comics probably won’t do much for anybody but me, but that’s okay too. The cat presses a page of the comic to its chest, looking contented and protective. In the last panel, the cat and the mouse are floating on air with a blue sky and white clouds behind them. The cat is smiling and twirling around, holding a paint brush out like a wand. From the brush flows paint that swirls around the two figures and making shapes of green leaves and orange and yellow flowers. On two looping blue ribbons appear the last captions: This is a record of my silly little life. Good or bad, I’m glad I get to share it. End ID.
Here’s a little introduction to External Memory! It was fun to make a proper neat and full colour comic - it’s been a while ^^
(If you like this project, please reblog this post! You can also subscribe to my patreon where I post one comic every day ^^)
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ghost-1-y · 5 months
Text
Sabotage
Trickster!Sanemi x Fem!Tricked Princess!Reader
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Content Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, dubcon(?), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (f! receiving), oral sex (m! and f! receiving), fingering, handjob, Sanemi can clone himself, double penetration (therefore anal), HEAVY degradation, brat tamer!Sanemi x bratty!reader, Sanemi has an olfactophilia kink, masturbation (Sanemi), spanking as punishment, overstimulation as punishment, lots of dumbification, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, multiple creamp!es, Sanemi is mean in this, Sanemi points a knife to reader’s throat at some point (he doesn’t draw blood), mentions of food, mentions of dead animals, reader is a spoiled, bratty princess, brief mentions of homewrecking (not acted upon), mentions of a future arranged marriage, Sanemi plays “tricks” on reader, lmk if I missed anything!!
Word Count: ~15k
A/N: apologies for this taking literally forever for me to post, I went through a period of burnout and have been in classes these past two months. Also, apologies for this being so long, the plot got ahead of me and it ended up becoming my largest fic to date, but I do promise smut at the end (as you can probably tell by the content warnings lmao). Also please be nice I’m sorry if this fic is actually awful lol :')
Divider Credit: @/cafekitsune
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The sound of crystal heels against marbled stone were followed by head turns of maids and servants as you walked through the long corridor, bowing or curtseying as you passed, soft murmurs of your highness and my princess uttered in haste before returning to their duties.
Everything was as it should be: polished gold-framed paintings and chandeliers lit with gentle flames above, ornate silver door handles grasped by armored knights as entrances opened for you time and time again, strolling up rounded stairways and into the throne room – where your father, King Ubayashiki, and his wife, Lady Amane, sat.
The sun was orange through the glass panes that decorated the palace walls. Rainbows scattered across the palace floor, and fractals of light beamed at varying angles which made the golden thrones glimmer with radiance.
“My dear child,” your father smiled gently upon you, “I am glad to see you in good health.”
He was flanked by a line of his advisors on his left side, most of them old and feeble, except for one: a quiet ravenette with eyes which beheld endless pools of deep blue – Tomioka, you believed his name was. 
Tomioka was quite handsome, yet always expressed disinterest in the matters discussed at these sorts of meetings – today, he decided to forgo usual etiquette by holding his head up by one of his fists, eyes taking in the grandeur of the throne room rather than being focused on you – as the rest of the advisors were.
“Father,” you curtseyed – forcing your eyes to pry away from the young advisor, “I reciprocate your sentiment. I am glad to see you well.”
He chuckled, “Your words are much appreciated, but I’m afraid they are not true. I have come down with sickness, and our lovely doctor here–” he waved towards his left, referring to a rather beautiful woman with dark hair and violet eyes who sat further away from the line of advisors, “–Lady Kocho, is doing her absolute best to treat me, but, it has made me realize a few things, namely how very brief our lives are on this earth, and–”
“Father, with all due respect, what have you summoned me for?” you asked, impatience seeping into your tone.
The king sighed, “I need you to be married, my dear child.”
“What?” you exclaimed, “no– I don’t want to. You cannot and will not force me to do such a thing.”
Your father sighed, “that is why, my dear, that we are going to be holding a masquerade ball on the next full moon – which, I believe, is five days from now. We have also decided that, due to time and the uncertainty of my sickness, you will be wed on the very next day.”
“What the hell is a ball going to do? Do you believe I’ll just suddenly meet the love of my life while dancing with a masked stranger?”
“That is not the objective, my dear, I wish for you to get to know the princes from nearby nations, and I believe a masquerade ball is perfect to learn personalities without any bias. Whomever you get along with most, as well as whoever I believe will be most fit as a king, will be the one whom you marry.”
“Well, I wish you luck in making me attend, because I refuse to entertain this idea you’ve thought up. You haven’t even given me a reason as to why I should plan to be married.”
There was tension amongst the members of the advisory council, with even Tomioka paying closer attention to your rather loud grievances.
You could almost feel his azure eyes boring into your soul.
“My dear child, even though I am your father, you must remember that I am also your King, and you will do well to remember that,” he said quietly.
“So, what? Are you going to have me thrown into the dungeons if I don’t comply?” You crossed your arms as you glared down at him. “You can’t possibly be serious–”
“That is not what I wish for, my child, but you must be responsible to your kingdom and do what I ask of you. One day, I will no longer be here, and you will need to step up and take the throne once that happens. This is the first step towards that end.”
“I don’t care about being responsible to the kingdom! They must bow to me anyway, the reason for their subservience is none of my concern.”
If you weren’t consumed by your fit of rage, you might have noticed that to your right, for a fraction of a second, the hue of the handsome ravenette’s eyes turned from a deep blue to a stormy purple.
“My child, you must learn that people do not bow blindly to the throne. They bow out of respect for a leader that makes decisions which keep them in mind.”
“They should respect me regardless. I’m their princess. That should be enough for them.”
You did not wait for your father to continue his lecture, as you stormed out of the throne room and marched back toward your chambers.
Upon entering your bedroom, a fireplace had already been lit – its crackling flames providing just enough heat for one’s slumber during a mid-winter night.
You sat down on the edge of your rather large bed – a mattress as soft as clouds, and sheets of the finest silk which was woven with royalty in mind. You kicked off your heels, scattering them halfway across your cozy living space – not caring to put them away properly – the help was there for such chores, anyway.
Your lady-in-waiting – you believed her name was Kanroji – knocked upon the carefully carved wooden doors of your chambers, before entering upon your command. She gave you a soft smile and curtseyed before you.
“It’s a wonderful evening, my princess, I hope today treated you well,” she greeted, and you gave out a loud sigh before flopping onto the mattress, a pout visible on your face as Kanroji picked up your discarded heels from the floor and placed them in their proper spot. 
“Kanroji–” you elongated the last vowel of her name, “today was awful. Can you believe my dad possessed the gall to summon me today? And for what– to discuss marriage?” you groaned, “If I could, I would’ve wiped that everlasting smile off of his face for making me go through all of this!”
“My princess, that is no way to speak about your father, much less your king,” Kanroji lightly scolded you, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m sure his reasons are sound. I understand if you find the idea rather, well, uprooting I should say, but–”
“–But nothing!” you exclaimed, exasperation evident in your tone. “I don’t want to be responsible for the people, especially if it’s at the expense of my own losses!”
“Princess, with all due respect, they are your people,” Kanroji reminded you, “being a princess doesn’t exempt you from responsibilities.”
Rolling your eyes once more, you grumbled out a “whatever,” and sat up on your bed to face your lady-in-waiting.
“I’m sure that it was at least nice to speak with your father, no? Considering how busy he is and all?” Kanroji asked with a smile.
“Not really,” you groaned, “but I did get to see that one cute advisor he has, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”
“Are you referring to Lord Tomioka, my princess?”
“Who else? The rest of them are old as shit– you think I’d fall for Urokodaki? Or – god forbid – Kuwajima?”
“A princess must not use such foul language, your highness,” Kanroji chided, “although I must say that I never expected you to fall for those…older men.”
You sighed in annoyance, “technically, I can do whatever I want, Lady Kanroji.”
“Unfortunately, Lord Tomioka is already married to the royal doctor, Lady Kocho,” Kanroji ignored the tone of your voice, “perhaps it would be wise to listen to King Ubayashiki’s words and look for a potential suitor at the next royal ball?”
“I doubt he has that much love for her,” you muttered, “perhaps I could pull Lord Tomioka aside during the festivities and–”
“Your highness, with all due respect, you will do no such thing,” Kanroji admonished you.
“But I’m the princess, Lady Kanroji, surely he’d see that as an opportunity for upward mobility, no?”
Kanroji sighed, deciding not to push the topic further. She motioned for you to stand up so she could undress you. You turned your back to her as she started untying the strands of your outer bodice, before removing it and working on the following layers to place them into a soiled linen basket.
“My princess will wash her face before heading to bed, we don’t want any bad air to ruin your perfect skin,” Kanroji urged as she helped you into your night slip.
“You don’t need to treat me like I’m five, Lady Kanroji. I know how to take care of myself.”
Kanroji schooled her expression from that of a tight-lipped smile to one with gentle radiance.
“Of course, your highness.”
You headed to your bathroom, but, rather than washing your face by yourself, you merely sat down on a cushioned chair beside the door. Kanroji followed, obtaining a washcloth made of the softest cotton and dipping it in water which she had warmed prior to your arrival. She dabbed at your face, removing any excess dirt or sweat which built up throughout the day, before lathering some soap into the cloth and gently applying it to your face, before rinsing it away with more water.
After she patted your face dry with another towel, she handed you your toothbrush and paste, and, after you had finished, provided you with water and a spit cup so you could rinse out your mouth. 
“My princess seems to be all ready for bed now, let’s get you cozied up for the night.”
She led you back to your bedroom, and you buried yourself in warm blankets, choosing not to respond as she blew out one final candle and bid you a good night.
The following day, upon your wake, the birds outside of your window were surprisingly quiet. You’d quite often awake to the chirps of songbirds and hoots of mourning doves, which would rise you out of your restful sleep. 
You stood up from your bed, and walked over to your wardrobe, excited to see if the maids had fully cycled your favorite dress through the laundry – one which had been inspired by your own confidence, merely amplifying everything desirable about your figure. It exemplified your wealth, your status; it brought you up into the clouds of materialism as others looked up at you in pure awe.
However, upon opening your wardrobe, you were shocked to find yourself looking at the wooden backing of the closet rather than your endless amounts of clothing that usually hung from the racks – something that you had not laid eyes upon ever since you first received the piece of furniture.
“Kanroji!” you yelled for your assistant, who, despite being summoned, still had the courtesy to knock upon your door before entering.
“Is something wrong, my princess?” she asked delicately as always, yet her honeyed lips did nothing to calm you down.
“You did this, didn’t you?” you accused her as you waved your hands haphazardly towards the empty wardrobe, “why do I not have any clothing to wear?”
Kanroji looked at you in pure confusion, before walking over and gazing upon what you were talking about. She sighed, “I didn’t do this, your highness, perhaps one of the maids went to wash all of your clothing and forgot to return it?”
“Why would they think to wash clothing which hasn’t been worn!?” you argued, “what should I do, then, if I don’t have anything to wear?”
Kanroji pondered for a moment, before seemingly coming to a solution.
“Well, my princess, if you would be so kind to take into consideration this idea I have, I may have a solution–”
“Just spit it out!”
Kanroji sighed, trying not to be taken aback by your rude behavior, “I believe we have extra clothing which is usually reserved for the royal staff. I could go fetch one for you if–”
“So I am to wear a servant’s clothes? To dress myself as a peasant?”
“No, my princess, the royal staff uniforms are hardly clothing meant for a commoner, they are still made of fine quality fabric and are sewn by the best seamstresses in the kingdom.”
You rolled your eyes, “fine, but only because there’s no other choice. Bring me the peasants’ clothing.”
Kanroji turned on her heel and left your room to fetch the uniform, leaving you to walk around your room in silence. After pacing around for a few minutes, you went up to your window, where a songbird had made its nest and laid its eggs.
You had asked time and time again for the staff to remove the nest, as it was partially obstructing the view of your garden, yet they hadn’t gotten around to it, it seemed.
However, today, the nest was completely empty – not a bird nor egg in sight.
“Princess, I’ve gathered a uniform set in your size,” Kanroji said behind you, prompting you to turn your head.
“Give it here.”
She handed you the folded clothing, and you held it out in front of you, inspecting it with expressive disgust.
“How am I supposed to put this on? It’s too frilly and complicated.”
“Allow me, your highness,” Kanroji muttered, before taking the uniform and having you step into it, buttoning it up and smoothing out the skirt.
“You look beautiful as always, my princess,” she smiled at you.
“I’d hardly say that,” you grumbled, “take me to my gardens, won’t you? I need some fresh air after this whole–” you waved your hands trying to find the right word, “–mess.”
Kanroji nodded, “of course, your highness.”
She led you through the winding corridors of the castle, and, as much as you preferred being the one leading, today you were almost hiding yourself behind your assistant – not wishing for anyone to look down upon you for the clothing you wore.
Yet, after a while, you realized that no one spared a second glance toward you. Not a single maid, nor servant, bothered to bow or greet you as you walked by. Easily offended by their lack of etiquette, you caught up with your lady-in-waiting, Kanroji, and whispered harshly into her ear.
“Why are they not greeting me? Usually they bow upon seeing or hearing me walk by. I have never seen such insubordination in my entire life–”
“My princess, it may be due to your clothing. You are wearing quite an unusual outfit for a royal today, and they are quite busy with setting up the decorations and such for the ball. I plead with you to be patient with them, your highness.”
You huffed, but remained silent after hearing her reasoning, your shoulders hunched in annoyance as Kanroji led you outside.
Your garden was one of the more peaceful areas of the palace. It was strategically placed so that you could view it from your bedroom window, a hectare of greenery reserved just for yourself. It caught the rays of sun through the early morning to late evening, with a rather beautiful fountain built in the very center of it made of marble, sculpted with three tiers that had water flow down into a rounded reservoir. The reservoir itself had sculptures sitting on the edges of the fountain – with one of the notable figures being that of Icarus.
Along the border of the garden, white and purple hydrangeas bloomed in the late morning sun, which gave way to various other floral species. It was all proper and organized, each plant having a designated area for it to flourish in. Walking further into the garden, you held out your hand to trace your fingers along the petals of buttercups, a flower which had always been one of your favorites – its delicate appearance attracting you to it. 
You approached a small gazebo that found its place on the edge of the garden, a shaded area for you to use should you grow tired. Taking a seat, you exhaled slowly, recollecting yourself from the earlier mishap that was out of your control, almost entering a sort of meditative state. Your thoughts, however, wandered, and eventually led you to your fathers words of having you become married.
“Lady Kanroji?” you asked, and she smiled kindly at you – just as she always did. It was a rather comforting sight, to have someone so close that didn’t seem bothered by anything in the entire world.
“Yes, my princess?”
“Do you ever feel like…your life is out of your hands? Like you’re starting to lose control?” you asked, voice slightly uneasy as you turned your head away from her, deciding to rather admire flowers which neighbored the bench you sat on.
A bumblebee flew past you, its fat little body buzzing between flowers, working hard to pollinate each one.
“Well, yes, everyone does– but, what is making you feel this way, your highness?”
“I mean, look at this bee here– it probably thinks about nothing but how it needs to pollinate flowers and collect nectar for its hive – wherever that may be, right?”
“Of course, princess,”
The bee landed on a lone calendula, burying itself in pollen, before taking a quick moment to rest before flying off to another part of the garden.
“I wish my life was more like this bee. I wouldn’t have to worry about anything except the task in front of me.”
“Princess, is this about the clothes in your wardrobe being missing this morning?” Kanroji inquired.
You shook your head, “no, I’ve accepted that as a small mishap. I’m more worried about how my freedom might be taken away from me, with being married soon and all, especially to someone that I—”
“—that you know nothing about?” Kanroji finished for you.
You nodded, before eyeing a blooming foxglove plant, approaching it and plucking a single flower from its stem, twirling it in your hand as you admired its range of colors. 
“I just wish that, at least, my last few days of freedom before this ball will be alright.”
Kanroji tentatively, ever so diligently following your every step, took your hand in hers, “I am wishing only the best for you, my princess. I promise that your husband will be as kind and as loving as can be.”
You smiled at her, still holding the foxglove in your hands, “thank you, Lady Kanroji.”
“–and if he’s not, then I promise to make his life a living hell,” she grinned, causing a hearty laugh to emerge from your chest.
“That hopefully won’t be necessary, but I thank you nonetheless.”
You looked down towards the ground, noticing that an invasive species of yellow tansy has taken root in the soil all throughout the garden.
Groaning, you looked up towards Kanroji once more, “do we not have a gardener to get rid of these weeds?” you asked exasperatedly, and she chuckled.
“Your highness, with all due respect, didn’t you fire them last week because they pruned your rose bush in a way that wasn’t to your liking?”
Sighing, you responded, “you’re right, we’ll need a new one soon, perhaps one of the servants would care for a promotion?”
“We’ll see about that, my princess. As for now, though, how about we get you washed up from being outside, and then after I’m sure we can have the royal chef make you one of your favorite meals for dinner later? As a little treat for all the anguish from today, perhaps?”
You smiled, “that sounds wonderful.”
You sat in the great hall of the castle, sampling hors d'oeuvres and sipping on champagne, chatting idly with your assistant at your own private table, watching waiters and waitresses move about through all the different tables, serving appetizers and samples of foods to both guests and royals alike.
Music played in the background from an entourage of pianists and violinists, who were playing some piece from Beethoven that you couldn’t recall the name of.
Feeling refreshed, you called over the waiter for yet another glass of champagne, motioning him to fill up Kanroji’s glass as well.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly–” Kanroji protested, to which you waved your hand in front of her.
“C’mon,” you grinned, “you work so hard. Just one glass? Please?”
She huffed in feigned annoyance, but relented as she let the waiter fill up her glass with the bubbly drink. 
“You seem much happier now that the maids found one of your spare dresses in the dried laundry, don’t you?” Kanroji grinned.
You nodded, “I feel more beautiful this way. I really disliked that maid uniform. I felt so…inferior.”
“Clothing does not make a princess, you know,” she reminded you simply as you took another bite of food, and Kanroji grimaced as you opened your filled mouth to talk.
“I know. ‘M a princess regardless o’ wha’ ‘m wearin’,” you mumbled before swallowing, “you don’t need to remind me.”
Kanroji sighed as you so easily missed the point she was trying to make, watching as you waved for the waiter to come by, ready to order your meal. 
“What should I have prepared for you this flashy evening, your highness?” he asked.
The man before you was tall and muscular, with white hair that fell down his shoulders and crimson eyes that reminded you of rubies. He took out a notepad to write down your orders when you realized his left hand proudly displayed three golden bands which were embedded with diamonds, each one on a separate finger. 
You could hardly believe he was just a mere waiter for the castle.
With his looks, you believed he could be doing much better.
“Would it be so bad if I said ‘you’?” you smiled lazily at him, causing him to chuckle at your statement.
“Unfortunately, my princess, I am a happily married man,” he said, pointing to the three rings, “although I wouldn’t be opposed to adding a fourth wife to the family.”
Your nose crinkled in disgust – not because he had multiple wives, no – but because you disliked the idea of having to share him with others.
What belonged to the princess should belong to her alone.
“I’ll pass,” you forced out, “I would, however, like to request the foie gras for my meal tonight, if you could you put that in for me — and, perhaps, a side of toasted baguette with caviar spread will do.” 
“Ah, my princess, as much as we are happy to make anything you desire, I must regretfully inform you that we do not have any foie gras for tonight.”
Your blood pressure started to rise. Putting on a fake smile, which was more akin to that of a grimace, you asked, “and what may be the reason for the kitchen being unprepared to take my order?”
“Your highness, I promise that it is not the kitchen’s fault. A strange occurrence, and a most un-flashy one, really – our local farmers have reported that every single one of their animals have escaped, and what’s more- they can’t be found anywhere within the borders of the kingdom.”
You thought back to the morning, when you made note of the usual songbirds outside of your window being absent.
“Do you not have any duck meat preserved?” you asked.
“No, your highness. We hunt the very same day that we prepare the meals so that they’re fresh. Which is why–”
“Which is why you’re supposedly unable to adhere to my request. I heard you the first time. No need to repeat yourself,” you huffed. “If you don’t have any meat, then what do you have?”
Just as the waiter was about to open his mouth, you held up your hand to stop him, “Never mind. Just get me a salad. Now leave us,” you glared at him, disdain heavy in your tone.
“Of course, princess.”
You rolled your eyes as he sauntered away, and Kanroji stared at you with a slight frown on her face.
“What is it?” you asked, taking her hand and holding it.
Kanroji tensed, but allowed her hand to stay rested on yours.
“It’s nothing, I promise,” she started, “I hope that you can be more patient with them, though, they are doing their best to serve you.”
You sighed, “whatever.”
You looked down at her hand, at which point a frown crossed your face.
“Lady Kanroji, since when did you have such an awful scar?”
Looking back up at her, she seemed slightly alarmed, taking her hand away from yours.
“What are you talking about, princess?” She looked down at her own hand, inspecting it as though she didn’t realize she had such a blemish.
“That scar– I don’t know why I only just noticed it, but–” you paused as she showed you her hand once more.
Her hand was flawless.
“You may have had too much to drink, princess, should I escort you back to your room?”
You looked at your assistant in utter confusion, “but–”
“I highly doubt it was anything more than a trick of the light,” she smiled reassuringly. “Let’s get you to your chambers now, alright princess?”
You awoke to the pounding of fists against your door, jolting up from your bed.
“Princess! Please open the door!” one of the royal guards shouted from outside your chambers.
Groggily, you walked up and opened it, to find the guard in what seemed to be a slightly confused panic.
“What’s going on?”
“You’ll have to come down to the royal gardens with me, princess, there’s something that was…er– left for you.”
In a huff, you followed his instructions, the guard following closely behind you, winding through corridors and staircases until you reached the outside, where a small crowd consisting mostly of royal staff could be seen huddling around something, exchanging whispers and gasps that were unintelligible.
“What in the hell did you raise me out of my bed for that needed my immediate attention?” you yelled back at the guard, who was only a few paces behind you, “forcing me to go outside while looking this indecent better have a good explanation.”
You pushed your way through the crowd, only to stop short as you gazed at what was before you: a dead cow, one that seemed to be entirely gutted, with its entrails scattered about around its body. 
The same guard walked up to you, tapping you on the shoulder before handing you a scroll, “this was laid beside the mauled animal,” he explained.
You unraveled it, only to read something that made you feel rather faint.
Here’s that meat you missed so dearly last night, princess.
You could almost laugh, if it weren’t for how absolutely no one could’ve heard about this conversation besides Lady Kanroji and the waiter himself.
Perhaps he notified the chef and one of the kitchen staff got upset? But that wouldn’t explain how they got the cow in the first place if all the animals are all–
“Princess?”
You looked up at the guard, who’s purple eyes seemed to be glimmering in the light of the morning sun.
“What is it?”
The guard frowned – at what, you couldn’t possibly tell – before he shook his head and walked back toward the castle.
Just as you were about to question him, Lady Kanroji came running out from the palace doors and stopped before you.
“Oh, my princess! I’m so glad you’re alright!” she wailed, seemingly disturbed by the events of this morning.
“I’m fine, but I’ll need each and every one of the kitchen staff that was working last night to be interrogated.” 
Kanroji seemed confused, but nodded, deciding not to question your reasoning.
“In the meantime, your highness, would you like to visit your garden again? I know that it tends to calm you down quite a bit and right now you seem quite…frazzled.”
“Lady Kanroji, how quickly do flowers usually grow?”
“Your highness, at this point, I have no idea.”
She looked just as confused as you were – gazing upon your garden, which looked entirely different from what it looked like yesterday. Rather than hydrangeas and the occasional foxglove bush blooming, the entire garden had been infested with snapdragons.
“I was here just yesterday, was I not?” you asked rhetorically, and Kanroji nodded in affirmation.
“Yes, you were, my princess.”
You sighed, “I don’t understand – all I wanted was a few peaceful days before I am forced into an arranged marriage. Am I not allowed something as simple as that?”
“Many are not afforded things that may seem simple to others, my princess, perhaps this is how the universe so ordained these few days to unfold.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better about my circumstances, though.”
“Perhaps not, but we can always do our best to make the most of what we are dealt, even if the hand we are given is not the best.”
You listened to her as you looked around the garden, seeing how endless the lines of snapdragon flowers seemed to be, and, in a moment of firm resolve, you lifted up the bottom of your slip before setting your feet bare into the soil.
“What are you doing, your highness? You will dirty your clothing if you–”
“I’m making the most of the hand I’ve been dealt, Lady Kanroji,” you explained, before beginning to weed out the unwanted snapdragon flowers from their roots.
Kanroji smiled, before following suit and helping you in your task, ridding the garden of unwanted plants to restore it to its former glory.
It felt like hours since you first arrived to your garden, your night slip entirely dirtied, and your hands caked with soil. The sun beat down on both of you, causing sweat to drip down your face as you smeared it away with your dirtied hands.
A crow flew down and landed in the garden next to you, poking its beak at the bundle of snapdragons that you’d picked out of the soil, you waved at it in order to shoo it away – but to no avail.
“I thought that there were no fauna left in the kingdom,” you mused, and Kanroji giggled softly.
“Apparently this little one didn’t quite catch the memo,” she smiled, causing you to chuckle.
However, another crow flew down a few minutes later, and then another – until there was nearly a flock of crows that surrounded each of you. 
“Lady Kanroji–?” you asked, concern lacing your tone as you looked around, with what seemed to be every single crow staring directly at you, as though you were nothing but prey to them.
It started off with one crow – which flew toward you and started picking at your night slip with its beak. You tried shooing it off, but doing so only invited another crow, and another, and another to do the same.
“Stop! What– stop!” you screamed as the crows continued tearing at your slip, leaving holes and cuts all throughout the thin cloth. You knelt to the ground, curling yourself into a tight ball as the crows hovered closely above you.
Until finally, the torment ceased.
Standing up, you looked around to see them flying away, before looking back at your assistant who seemed absolutely horrified by what just occurred. 
“Your highness–”
“Don’t. Say. A word,” you seethed, tears starting to brim your eyes before you rushed back to your chambers, Kanroji following closely behind you.
Sanemi’s POV
A yell of frustration could be heard from your chambers, causing a silent snicker to pass through his lips. 
He couldn’t help that he loved messing with you: you were the perfect prey for someone like him. Someone in a place of authority who needed to be knocked down a few pegs; a bratty princess who wanted everything to go her way – regardless of if it hurt those around her or not. 
Not only that, but the noises you made were music to his ears – how you’d groan and grumble and scream – all because of him. 
He was the one who was causing you all this grief.
And he loved it.
Unfortunately, it seemed that missing clothes and cooking ingredients were just not enough to make you absolutely lose your sense of control. 
“Kanroji!” you yelled from your chambers, causing his ears to perk up. You always had your poor assistant help you out, he realized, it was only ever a matter of time before her name could be heard from your lips. 
It pissed him off, really, that assistant of yours – she would always be there to step in and help you, no matter how terrible your behavior was. 
However, it seemed today that your assistant was nowhere to be found, and so he had the privilege of reveling in your annoyed grumbles for that much longer.
After what seemed to be about half of an hour, your chamber doors finally opened.
He decided that your expression must’ve been priceless, so he took the shape of a female guard and walked down towards your chamber doors.
However, he couldn’t stop his mouth from falling agape upon seeing you.
Your dress – which he intentionally shrunk down a size, caused your tits to spill out from the top of it. Not only that, but your skirt only went down to your mid-thigh, and he could only imagine what a sight it would be if you bent over to pick something up. 
He was frozen – he hated you, hated authority. He despised how you thought that you were simply better than everyone else – that it was somehow your birthright to be above everyone else.
So, why was he awestruck by the sudden beauty that was before him?
You turned your head to him – or, the female guard that he was disguised as – and gave him a nasty glare.
“The hell are you looking at?” you asked.
If there were a higher power, Sanemi would’ve thanked them a hundred times over for the fact that his shapeshifting ability could hide the hardening bulge in his pants.
After a moment, he managed to find his voice – and thankfully he remembered to make it fit the character he was playing as.
“Apologies, princess, did you need help with anything?”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed before marching away from him, and he couldn’t help but smirk as your figure turned down another long corridor.
Out of all the people he’s fucked with, you were definitely his favorite.
“Shit, princess, got me so fuckin’ worked up over nothing, didn’t ya?” Sanemi muttered under his breath as he fisted his stiff cock, not even bothering to start slowly as he fucked his hand with each unrelenting stroke.
The precum seeped out from his tip, allowing his hand to glide even faster along his thick length; he was harsh with it, the muscles in his forearm nearly burning at the pace of his movements. 
Sanemi snuck into your room after you left – having now memorized your daily schedule, he didn’t need to worry about you catching him in the act. It would be at least an hour before you returned to your chambers, giving him plenty of time to cum before then.
He laid upon your bed – the mattress softer than anything he ever had the luxury of experiencing before – as he stroked himself to the thought of ruining you.
He wondered if the plush of your skin would be even softer.
Gods, how he would love to trace his roughened hands along your delicate body, squeezing your tits, groping your ass.
You could stand to have a bit of punishment too, he thought before envisioning how he’d have you on your hands and knees, smacking your ass until it was red and sore.
Or maybe humiliation would be better?
He groaned as he thrust up into his hand as he thought of all the ways he could ruin your status, humiliating you in front of hundreds – no, thousands – of your subjects.
Maybe he could take it a step further than he usually would this time – oh, how he’d love to ruin you until you were nothing more than a needy slut for his cock.
“Fuck–” he grunted, before turning his head to the side, where he eyed a pair of your discarded panties in the corner of your room.
“Fuckin’ brat never learns to clean up after herself,” he muttered, climbing out of your bed to go pick them up.
Lucky me, he thought, bringing your panties up to his nose and inhaling deeply, his knees nearly buckling.
Somehow, the head of his cock turned an even angrier shade of red after breathing in your scent, with his length getting so stiff that it almost hurt.
“Fuck– princess,” he groaned, “smell so fuckin’ good,” he added, walking back to your bed before inhaling more of your musk, hips bucking involuntarily into his hand – his cock getting impossibly harder as he fucked himself to the thought of you. 
“Gonna make me fuckin’ cum like this, you fuckin’ brat.” 
His abdomen tensed as his seed shot out from his reddened tip, spilling it all over his hand and lower stomach. He hissed as he continued to stroke himself through his orgasm before pulling his hand back and letting it fall against the mattress, panting heavily.
“Are you sure you don’t have any spare clothes that fit, my princess?”
Sanemi’s eyes shot open, hearing your assistant’s voice from outside the door.
“Yes, I checked every single one and they’re all too tight! I’ve had difficulty breathing all morning because of this stupid outfit!”
You shouldn’t be back yet, he thought, but then again he did disrupt your morning for the third time this week – perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised.
He shot up from your bed, quickly stripping it as well as gathering any dirty clothing you had lying around before transforming himself into a maid.
The door opened, and Sanemi had to hold back a grin when he saw how frustrated you were, his cock starting to harden once more upon seeing your face contorted into a pout.
“Why are you here?” you asked him, before your assistant put a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Leave her be, my princess, she’s just doing her job.”
Sanemi nodded to her and took the linen that he had gathered out of your chambers, leaving you and your assistant alone for the time being.
By the time he was out of sight, he snapped his fingers – causing the linen to disappear completely.
It’s not like you’d care about missing some bedsheets for a while, right?
Y/N’s POV
You awoke the next day to the smell of smoke.
You weren’t able to sleep much anyway — namely due to being limited to a simple blanket as you laid on your bare mattress — all because the maid who took your sheets didn’t bother to communicate with anyone else that your bed would need to be made before you retired for the night.
After dipping in and out of sleep, tossing and turning in your freezing room, the sun had finally started to rise, and, although you usually never awoke before it was at least halfway up in the sky, today your sense of grogginess was replaced by complete alarm.
Was the castle burning?
You ran to the doors of your chamber, your already too-tight night slip nearly causing you to trip as you reached for its handle.
Cold.
You slowly opened the door, and the absence of flames relieved you.
Only thinking of yourself, you carefully made your way down staircases and through corridors – the smoke only becoming more intense the further down you went.
Perhaps a kitchen fire?
Yet, as you found your way to the castle entrance, you started to realize that the smoke had been coming from outside rather than in the castle.
Careful to not show your face through any windows – in order to protect yourself from being targeted by any potential enemies or rioters outside – you listened for voices and yelling to determine if the castle was under siege.
But, other than the distant crackling of flames, the night was silent.
Exhaling your fear, you gained enough courage to peek through one of the windows. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, you thought to go outside so you could locate the source of the smoke.
The castle door creaked open, and a plume of smoke entered through the doorway, resulting in a series of coughs which erupted from your throat. The grass you were on was dry as you walked further, the blades poking at the soles of your feet with each step.
You saw the orange glow of the flames in the distance, and, by the time you got close enough to see what was burning, your blood ran cold.
Your garden.
The entire area had been engulfed in flames – the plants reduced to cinders and ash. 
Tears ran down your cheeks as you watched the only place you felt true peace burn to the ground, the fire growing in size until reaching a crescendo of roaring crackles as it burned every remaining piece of your soul, unrelenting until the fire decided to quell itself, returning the borrowed flames to the sun as it rose above the horizon.
Until what remained was nothing but char and dirt.
You sat there for what felt like hours, sitting silently as your eyes reddened – from the smoke or from crying, one wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Your highness…” you heard a soft voice behind you, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around.
The gentle, reassuring hand of your lady-in-waiting laid upon your shoulder once more – just as it had many times this past week. It was her way of consoling you, no matter how horrible things were.
“I’m so sorry,” was all she could offer, squeezing your shoulder as you gazed upon your garden – or what was left of it – in silence.
“Thank you, Mitsuri – but this isn’t your fault.”
Your friend sat down beside you, rubbing your back as you two watched the remaining embers flicker in and out of existence.
Until there was nothing else left for you to have.
Sanemi’s POV
Sanemi was smug – surely a fire would get your attention, would it not?
It was his last resort, but you had just been so awfully bratty and hostile to those around you.
He couldn’t just stand by the sidelines and let that happen, right?
The afternoon was eerily quiet, he hadn’t heard you yell for your assistant once today. Once you got back from your silly little playground, you locked yourself up in your room, not opening up for anyone.
So, that evening, he took on the form of that one maid again, and stole a skeleton key from one of the royal staff.
“Princess? May I come in?” He knocked on your door, and, after hearing no response, decided to unlock it, knocking once more as he entered.
You were sitting on your bed, staring into nothing, your hands lay silent in your lap.
“Princess?”
“What do you want?” you nearly whispered, as though the room around you might shatter into pieces should you speak any louder.
“Er–” Sanemi quickly skimmed through your daily schedule – something he had memorized every detail of – in order to come up with some excuse for interrupting your time alone.
However, he did not have time to answer, as you stood up and held your arms out from your sides – your expression flat and emotionless as your eyes remained fixed on the ground before you.
“Apologies, that was a stupid question,” you continued, your tone almost dejected before looking up at the maid before you, “It’s time for my bath, isn’t that right?” 
“Yes– yes, princess, of course,” Sanemi stuttered.
You simply stared, before speaking up, “well? Are you going to undress me or not?”
Sanemi’s ears flushed a bright red, but did indeed walk behind you – not wishing to reveal himself as an imposter by acting strange – and started to lift up your night slip, the very one you hadn’t changed out of since last night.
You smelled of burning ash, which wasn’t much of a surprise to him – but he didn’t expect you to withstand the smoke for so long, just to stare at the flames that he created.
He removed your night slip, using all of his willpower to not stare down at you while you were indecent.
“Take me to my bath, please,” you requested silently, and, to much of his surprise, he obeyed without a second thought.
He took your hand, leading you to your bathroom, where he simultaneously filled up your tub with warm water with the slight wave of his hand – as though it had been prepared for you all along, as though he knew this would be what he was getting into as he entered your room – your home.
You sat down in the clear water, ash ebbing off of you in ripples as water gently sloshed around you. He reached for a nearby cloth, and lathered it in soap, before rubbing it up and down your back, bubbles forming with each swipe of the cloth. 
You remained oddly silent, letting him wash you as he pleased – of course, you didn’t know it was him. 
He doubted you’d let him be within ten feet of you if he wasn’t acting as someone else.
Yet, when he went to clean your shoulders, he placed his false, dainty hand upon your shoulder, and you sniffled.
You were crying.
“Princess?” he asked cautiously.
You brought your hands up to your face, hiding yourself from the maid that washed you.
“What is happening to me?” you sobbed silently, breaths shaky as you inhaled, “My last few days have been horrible, and today was just— my garden is gone.”
Normally, Sanemi would feel a spark of pride upon hearing that he got under his victim’s skin, but now, he felt nothing but pure guilt.
Had he gone too far?
“Perhaps I’ve been cursed,” you whispered, “all I wanted was to live my last few days before I'm married in peace. I’m to be wed to someone that I don’t know the first thing about, to be silent and obedient, adhering to my husband’s every wish.”
He remained silent, unsure of what to say – he had been the cause of your suffering, at least in the short-term. This marriage of yours seemed unavoidable, something you’d have to endure for god knows how long.
He turned your face by your chin, gently pressing the washcloth to your cheeks, wiping away soot and tears with a few simple strokes. 
“I don’t even know what I did wrong, it all feels so– so unjust,” you confessed.
Had Sanemi not had centuries upon centuries to learn keeping up facades, he would have given himself away right then and there. In a mere second, you managed to replace the guilt that festered within his heart with pure rage.
How blind were you?
He said nothing as he finished washing you up, being careful to not scrub harshly at your skin despite his anger and hatred, and then toweled you up by the time he had finished. 
“Good night, princess,” he uttered before leaving you to dry yourself, resolving to not take a single glance back as you looked at him – or, looked at the maid – in pure confusion and hurt.
Y/N’s POV
“My princess,” Mitsuri whispered as she woke you up, “you slept for so long – it’s about time to get ready for the ball tonight.”
Your eyes shot open, anxiety spiking in your chest, “already?”
Mitsuri nodded, eyes softening in concern for you.
Fuck.
Mitsuri brought in a champagne colored dress which had been specially designed for you – taking all of your measurements into consideration, as well as a white mask with gold lining, and white feathers which were reminiscent of a swan. 
Mitsuri helped lace up the dress, which, unlike the rest of your outfits, thankfully fit quite well. She then placed the mask on your face, before taking your hand and gently leading you down to the great hall – where the festivities would soon begin.
Upon opening the doors, it became difficult to breathe, with people clustered together, voices clashing together as conversations carried through the hall. There was some dancing, yet those who were taking their chances on the ballroom floor seemed rather clumsy and uncoordinated in their steps, while those who were on the sidelines speaking with relatives and strangers alike sampled foods from trays that disappeared and reappeared along with the waiters that weaved haphazardly through the hall. 
You walked toward the front of the room, picking up your dress so as to not trip on the ornate staircase which led up to where your father – and King – waited for you.
“You look quite beautiful, my child, I hope you will be able to enjoy tonight’s celebrations,” he beamed, and you nodded in response.
“Are there any plans you have for me, father?”
“I do have a few princes I’d like for you to meet – namely those from the Agatsuma, Iguro, and Rengoku bloodlines. They all show promise – perhaps some more than others – of being benevolent rulers.”
As though prompted, a blonde man walked up the stairs toward you and your father, his hand shaky as he extended it toward you. Otherwise, there were no particular qualities of his that stood out to you. You looked at him expectantly, awaiting some sort of introduction.
“Y-your highness! May– may I please have your first dance of the night?” the man before you sputtered, and it took everything within you to properly school your expression so that your father wouldn’t scold you for poor behavior.
“May I know who I have the pleasure of dancing with?” you managed to ask the blonde, who seemed as though he would keel over and faint at just about any moment.
“Oh– I’m Zenitsu Agastuma, sorry–” he introduced himself, bowing before you.
Reluctantly, you curtseyed back, before placing your hand in his, grimacing at the clamminess of his skin. 
He placed his other hand on top of yours, “Thank you! I promise you won’t regret this!”
He took you down to the floor, muttering brief apologies to every person you two passed by. By the time you two the center of the great hall, he took one of your hands and placed it on his left shoulder blade, before taking his right hand in your left.
“Are you expecting me to lead?” you asked, and his face went bright red.
“If that’s alright with you, my lovely princess, and– if we could just do a simple box step, perhaps? I– I’m not too good with dancing,” he said sheepishly.
You sighed, deciding to take the lead in a box step, with him following each of your movements, until he tripped over your shoes.
“Sorry! Sorry!” he exclaimed, obviously nervous, his movements short and jittery with each subsequent step.
You sighed, but then he tripped over your feet again, and again, muttering out apology after apology each time.
By the time the song had finished, you’d had enough of him and walked him off of the dance floor.
“Wait– please! Give me another chance! I– I promise I’d be a good husband, please!” he babbled, tears flowing down past his mask and down his cheeks. You forced him off of you, shaking your hand so he’d let go.
You went to sit down next to your father, who seemed to be chuckling in amusement.
“Are you laughing at me, father?” you asked, your tone tense after what humiliation the blonde had caused you in front of your subjects.
“No, no– I promise I’m not,” he smiled, before summoning the next prince that he’d mentioned – a rather short man with black hair. Through his mask, you could see that his eyes were quite beautiful – being two separate colors.
Yet, his eyes were elsewhere, staring longingly at your friend, Mitsuri, rather than you.
“Erm– hello, may I ask for your name?” you asked the man.
“Hmm? I’m not interested,” he said curtly, “I decline the opportunity to dance with you, princess.”
Your mouth hung open, absolutely offended by the man before you.
“Are you absolutely sure, Prince Iguro?” your father questioned, and the prince nodded in affirmation.
“Yes, please honor my choice, your highness.”
Your father sighed, dismissing him and the prince quickly found his way to Mitsuri, who started blushing up a storm as soon as he started speaking with her.
At least one of us will have a chance at finding love tonight, you thought.
The last prince whom your father mentioned was summoned next, a young man who seemed rather jovial and filled with vigor, with hair that resembled that of flames themselves and eyes that were reminiscent of crackling embers.
“Your highness, would you be so kind and allow me to dance with you?” he smiled, a grin that was infectious as it caused you to return your own.
“Of course,” you happily responded.
He took your hand, kissing your knuckles before leading you back to the center of the ballroom, placing a hand on your left shoulder and leading you into the dance.
“I hope that this evening has fared well for you so far, my dear princess,” he said, twirling you around.
It was comforting – he was comforting. He provided you with air where you felt you could not breathe.
“It is going much better now that I am here with you, dear prince,” you smiled, “may I ask for your name?”
“Kyojuro Rengoku,” he answered, before leaning you into a dip and bringing you back upright, guiding you into another step, and another.
He was incredibly smooth with his movements – all until a waiter accidentally bumped into him, spilling wine down the back of his suit.
“My prince! I’m so, so sorry–” the waiter apologized, trying to clean up his suit with a spare cloth.
Kyojuro simply laughed it off, “it’s quite alright, dear waiter,” before turning to you, whispering “I’ll go get changed, and then I’ll be back for you, alright, my dear princess?”
You felt a warmth creep up your cheeks before nodding, seeing him give you a quick wink before he was off.
Your observing of the kind prince was interrupted by a gentle touch to your shoulder. Thinking it was Mitsuri, you turned around with a smile on your face, which quickly faded into one of confusion upon seeing the person in front of you.
“Hello, princess, may I have your next dance?”
The man before you was about as tall as Kyojuro, with white hair that seemed untamable. A man who displayed scars in every place of exposed skin, his raven mask unable to fully conceal the ones on his face.
Perhaps he was a royal knight of some sort?
“And who are you, may I ask?” you inquired, and a small smirk stretched along his lips.
“Sanemi, dear princess, my name is Sanemi.”
He extended his hand, which you observed had a similar scar to the one you thought Mitsuri had just a few nights ago.
Hesitantly, you placed your hand in his – immediately noting the warmth and roughness of his skin – as though he’d spent years working with them. His grip was firm, but not harsh – indicating knowledge of his own strength. 
His right hand slid down to the small of your back, finding its purchase just above your hip – not daring to go lower. He led you into a similar waltz that Kyojuro placed you in, yet, this one somehow felt more…intimate.
“Sanemi,” you started, rolling his name along the tip of your tongue, “do you not possess a last name? Or are you perhaps a scoundrel with a tarnished reputation?” you teased, each step between the two of you smooth, almost calculated as he led you through the ballroom.
“Do you believe you have earned my last name, princess?” he whispered hotly, to which you felt heat prickle along your face. 
He chuckled, “apparently not. But–” he led you into a quick spin, before pulling you close once more, “if you get to know me well enough, perhaps I’d be so willing to indulge in your curiosity.”
“Get to know you? Is that supposed to be some sort of challenge?”
“If that is how you perceive it,” he responded vaguely.
Curious, you were – the man before you hauntingly beautiful, the smoothness of his voice and his mystery, combined with his confidence made it difficult to believe he wasn’t of royal blood..
He’d definitely be fit as a King, you thought.
“What, may I ask, is your occupation then, Sanemi?” you asked, wishing to glean more information from the masked man.
“I’ve done quite a few things in my life, and I’d say that I'm competent in all that I do, princess.”
“A jack of all trades is a master of none, you should know,” you challenged.
“Ah, but oftentimes better than a master of one,” he continued, leaning closely into you, his breath gracing your ear, “and trust me darling, I’m a master of all of my works.”
Your face heated up at his claim, thanking the fact that he’d led you into a spin, so you could somewhat hide your embarrassment.
“Is that so? Then I think you’d have to show me one day, Sanemi.”
“Who’s to say that I haven’t already?” he avowed, his violet eyes sparkling behind his mask with knowledge unknown to you.
“What do you mean?” you inquired, side-stepping before he leaned you into a dip, his eyes looking directly into yours as he leaned closely into you.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, dear princess, I promise you’ll find out soon enough.”
As he brought you back upright, he parted from you, before taking your hand and kissing your knuckles – just as the prince before him did.
With his other hand, seemingly from nowhere, he pulled out an orange lily, and placed it into the hand that he kissed.
“I found this growing on the outskirts of your garden just yesterday. Such a shame the beautiful thing burned down.”
Speechless, you took the lily from him.
“Your condolences are appreciated.” You brought the lily up to your nose to take in its scent, before smiling at him and curtseying. “Thank you for the flower, and the dance, Sanemi, I’ll do well to remember you.”
“Father, please, I implore you to tell me who you have decided upon,” you begged, having waited impatiently until a majority of guests had exited the palace and gone home. Maids and servants proceeded with cleaning up the hall quickly after most of the festivities died down, and by now, most tables had chairs overturned on top of them, and mops could be found in use scattered throughout the ballroom floor. 
“My dear child, I am not able to give you an answer as you so wish. My advisors and I will need to convene and discuss our thoughts on what marriage would prove best for our kingdom.”
“Well, if you’d let me, I’d hope that you’d keep in mind that prince from the Ren–”
“My dear, as much as I’d love to take into consideration your opinion, this is a matter of kingdom survival, and thus my advisor’s opinions will have much more weight than my own child’s.”
Your mouth fell slightly agape, “but, didn’t you promise that you’d take into consideration the prince I got along most kindly with?”
“I did, my dear, but I have decided to rescind that statement. After your rather childish tantrum you displayed in front of me and my advisors, I came to the realization that you are not mature enough to make decisions that take more than just yourself into consideration.”
“But–”
“Child, indeed it is a most regrettable decision, but if I am to keep the kingdom’s interests in mind, then I will do what I believe is best.”
Tears of anger brimmed in your eyes as you once again stormed away from your father, exiting through the rather large doors at the end of the great hall and marching through them. You raced toward your chambers, where you wished to sob into your pillow until the morning came.
“Your father is right, you know,” a low voice spoke from one of the more darkened corridors as you passed by, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.
Looking around, you saw no one – you were alone, and yet, somewhere, someone was speaking to you.
Not only that, but they’d also listened in on the conversation you’d had with your father.
You peeked down one corridor, trying to make out a figure in the shadows, when you were suddenly pushed into the stone wall, a hand reaching around your mouth as a body held you in place.
“Don’t. Scream.”
A muffled cry came out of your throat, which prompted the assailant to point a cold, metal blade to your throat.
“The hell did I just fuckin’ tell you, sweetheart?”
Your breathing became rapid, panic ensuing as the knife trailed down your throat – just gentle enough so as to not draw any blood.
“Y’know, princess, I’ve been tryin’ to get you to see your wrongdoings this entire fuckin’ week,” the stranger started, “but you just don’t fuckin’ learn, do ya?”
Your eyes widened as you realized this person had been responsible for everything.
Including your garden.
In a fit of rage, you tried biting your assailant's hand, to which he simply moved it to constrict lightly around your throat.
“Oho–! Do we have a biter here, sweet thing? And to think that I always thought your bark was worse…”
“You bastard, let me go! I’ll have your fuckin’ head for this!”
“Oh sweetheart, you’ll definitely have my head, but not in the way you seem to think. Y’see, I’ve been tryin’ so fuckin’ hard to get you to understand how pretentious you are, how much of a snob you are, and, frankly, I’ve run out of ideas, princess.”
He turned your face towards him, making you realize it was the same person who’d danced with you at the ball – the man with the scars, the white, unruly hair, and his strikingly violet eyes.
“Sanemi?” you asked, even though in your heart you knew it was him.
Sanemi grinned, “ah, so you do have a brain up there in that pretty little head of yours,” he sneered at you, “then maybe this last little lesson I give you will be the one that finally sticks.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” you hissed, and Sanemi chuckled as you struggled against him.
“Oh, princess, have you not realized what I’m gonna do yet?” he cooed mockingly, “I’m gonna fuck the brattiness out of you, sweetheart.”
A small gasp left your lips at his assertion, yet, you couldn’t help the feeling of heat spreading both across your cheeks, as well as the kindling of flames within your lower stomach.
You were to be forcefully married, to live a life of servitude to your husband – who will be pronounced King once your father passes, to endure a loveless marriage – with tolerance of your significant other being the most you could possibly hope for. 
You could have a little fun before all that, couldn’t you?
Sanemi darkly chucked behind you, “I can smell your arousal, sweet thing, you really do want this, don’t ya?”
The man threw the knife to the ground before licking a stripe up your neck and leaving bites across the expanse of your skin, starting with your earlobe and working his way down to your shoulder, teeth sharp as they grazed along your body.
You shivered, embarrassment flooding your veins at how you reacted to his touch – you shouldn’t want this, you were a princess, a proper lady who knew that doing such acts before marriage was scandalous.
But, did you truly care about your marriage?
With each brush of his roughened hands against your skin, the consequences that threatened your wishes of this continuing faded further and further.
Sanemi worked his hands to the center of your back, his fingers deftly untying the lace of your dress – as though he had experience in such skills before this.
“Such a fuckin’ slut, wishing for me to take you before you’re married – what would your father think?” he asked mockingly as he pushed your dress down, revealing your breasts to him.
“Oh– that’s right, you don’t care much of what he– or anyone– thinks, do you?” he answered his own question, before leaning down and pursing his lips around one of your nipples, sucking harshly at your tits, earning a soft gasp from you as your face contorted at the sensation. His tongue laved against the softness of your skin, before biting down – making you let out a sharp hiss before bringing your hand up to his hair and tugging at it.
He looked up at you, hate and lust evident in his eyes as he pulled off of you with a lewd pop, and, just before you thought he would move on to the other tit and perform the same actions, he instead raised his hand and gave a sudden, hard slap to your breast.
“Ah–!” you gasped, evoking a laugh from him.
“Oh, do you like pain, brat?” he taunted, causing you to flush intensely across your cheeks as he landed another slap to your other tit, to which you let out another, shorter gasp from you.
“Answer the question, slut.”
Whimpering, you slowly nodded, and he grinned before roughly grabbing at your tits, rolling your nipples in between his fingers.
“Then get on your knees f’ me.”
You looked at him as though he were crazy, but, with one last slap to your tits, you quickly complied, lowering yourself to the ground.
“Isn’t this a sweet sight?” Sanemi chuckled, “a princess kneeling before someone else – how cute.”
Humiliation seeped into your veins as you looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes with  your own, until he forced your chin up, and– after a small wave of his hand, you felt someone else pushing you down onto all fours. Flinching at the contact, you quickly turned your head around to see another Sanemi staring back at you – fully naked and littered with scars.
“What–” you started, before the second Sanemi started to rip your dress off of you – ruining it beyond repair.
“Oh, are you surprised, princess?” the original Sanemi asked, “how did you think all of the shit that happened to you this past week came about?”
Before you could answer, a rough smack landed on your ass, the strength of it causing you to be pushed forward as you whined at the stinging pain that Sanemi’s hand left behind.
“That’s one, brat, I think you could stand to handle a bit more, can’t you?” the Sanemi in front of you decided before taking his cock out of his pants as the one behind you dealt a smack to your other asscheek. He started stroking his cock with his fist as his double continued his assault behind you.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet already,” muttered the one behind you, as you felt two fingers dip in between your folds – collecting your slick before landing another blow, “such a goddamn whore, aren’t ya? And all from being spanked? You’re fuckin’ filthy, princess.”
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
Tears were starting to escape your eyes – your ass starting to feel raw from the constant blows. The tears found their way down your cheeks before the Sanemi in front of you lifted your chin up with one hand, stroking his cock furiously with the other as he groaned at the sight in front of him.
“Fuck– I’ve wanted to ruin you all week, princess, make you nothing more than a whore for my cock – to turn you into a braindead fucktoy all for my pleasure.”
You whined at his confession, leaning forward a little in an attempt to catch his lips with yours before he pulled away from you, leaving you feeling unfulfilled before his clone landed a harsh slap to your pussy – causing you to yelp as the clone started to prod his fingers at your entrance.
“Please, more,” you begged.
“Hmmm, I don’t think you deserve more, princess,” Sanemi smirked, before closing the distance between you and his cock – the tip of which blushing a deep red as precum seeped out from it.
“Be a good girl for once and earn your pleasure.”
You hesitantly looked up at him, before reaching out your hand and delicately wrapping it around his thick cock. Sanemi hissed, not fully expecting how soft and plush your hand would feel when wrapped around him.
Starting out with some slow, gentle strokes, Sanemi started bucking slightly into your hand – not used to how languid and soft your movements were. You traced your thumb over his leaking slit, gathering his precum before moving back down his length.
The clone behind you finally pushed his fingers deeper into you, making you whine at the intrusion as he curled his fingers inside your wet heat, moving at about the same pace that you stroked the other one’s cock, repeatedly pressing into that one area that pulsed pleasure through your abdomen with each movement. You writhed in his hold, resulting in him using his other arm to keep your hips in place as he fucked you with his fingers.
“M-More,” you whimpered, closing your eyes at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, his tortuous pace and his hold on your hips forcing you to take only what he decided to give you – what he thought you deserved.
“Uh uh–” Sanemi tutted, grabbing your perfectly styled hair into his fist, pulling your head up toward him, “keep your eyes open, brat, you still gotta work on my cock, remember?”
You nodded, opening your eyes as you focused on stroking his cock, increasing the speed at which your hand glided along his length.
Sanemi’s fingers, too, picked up a faster pace, two of his clone’s thick digits pumping in and out of you, until the only sounds that could be heard were the slick of your hands working on each other and the soft grunts and moans coming from each of your throats.
Then, without warning, the clone decided to remove his fingers from your pussy. Whining, you tried pushing your hips back to receive more attention from him, only to let out a shaky moan when you felt his wet tongue travel along your slit.
“Fu–uh–ck” you shuddered as he lapped up your juices, his hands spreading along the meat of your ass, making you wince slightly from remnants of the earlier punishment you received.
“Shit, you taste so fuckin’ good,” the clone muttered as he licked a broad stripe up your cunt, “fuckin’ knew you would, princess, you always smelled so damn sweet.”
“H-Hah–?” you tried to conjure a response, which more so resembled that of a moan as it tumbled out between your lips.
“C’mon, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you stupid already, princess,” Sanemi chuckled, “just what do you think happened to all that clothing of yours? Especially your panties– god I couldn’t get enough of ‘em, your scent would linger for so damn long.”
An intense heat bloomed along your cheeks, realizing just exactly what he meant.
Sanemi’s clone groaned as he plunged his tongue into your heat, lapping up everything you gave him as he ate you out. You continued stroking the other’s thick length, bringing your lips to the tip of his cock, experimentally licking at his leaking slit. Sanemi’s grip on your hair tightened, encouraging you to keep going – to keep serving him.
You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, a soft hum sending vibrations down his length as you reveled in the way his clone was sucking at your clit. Hollowing your cheeks, you started sucking at his bulbous head, using your tongue to lap up any precum that seeped out of his weeping slit. Sanemi pushed your head further down, impatient with you only giving attention to his reddened tip, which caused you to choke along his length as it entered the back of your throat, tears pooling around your eyes as your lips swollen lips took inch after inch of his thick cock.
“Fuck– that’s it, princess, just hold on a lil’ longer f’ me,” he grinned as he looked down at the mess you were quickly becoming, gagging around him like the good little slut you were, until he finally let you off of his cock, with you gasping for air.
Yet, his clone didn’t stop his assault on your cunt, switching between licking and sucking at your clit and feasting on the sweetness that came out of your wet heat. The original Sanemi put his hand underneath your chin once more, forcing you to look up at him as the tension in your stomach got tighter and tighter.
“God– so good,” you whined, relishing in how Sanemi’s tongue felt against your wet cunt, looking up at the one in front of you with the prettiest, watery eyes that he’d ever seen, eyes which begged him to let you cum.
Yet, just as the warmth in your stomach was about to spill over, the clone removed his mouth from your pussy, leaving you to clench around nothing as you whined and pouted at the one in front of you.
Both of them let out a light snicker, until the one holding your chin knelt down in front of you, grinning as he stared down at your pathetic form.
“Did you really think I’d let you cum so easily, little brat?” he inquired, the raspiness of his throat making his question all the more intimidating. You shook your head, knowing better than to argue or beg for what you wanted.
The Sanemi behind you gave a sharp slap to your pussy, causing you to yelp from how sensitive you were from the pleasure his tongue gave you only seconds before.
“Please– wan’ your cock, wan’ to cum around it,” you whined pathetically, trying to wiggle your hips as they were held in place by the clone behind you.
Sanemi’s eyes were wild as he smirked down at you, “Oh? You want my cock, princess? You want me to ruin you completely – make you a complete mess until you’re nothing but a hole for me to fill?”
You nodded quickly, eyes glossed over as he described what he could do to you. 
“Fine, just because you begged so sweetly for it – but you won’t be getting my cock, princess – not yet. You’ll have to make do with my double’s – think you can do that for me?”
“Yes– please, anything, plea–ah!”
Without warning, the clone behind you shoved himself balls deep inside of your hot cunt, breaking past the thin tissue near your opening and pushing deeper, until his tip nearly kissed your cervix.
Sanemi’s thrusts were rough, plunging into your heat fully with each strong push of his hips. His balls slapped against your clit, providing extra stimulation as he fucked himself into you, turning you into a whining, moaning mess.
The original Sanemi took in every expression and movement you made, relishing in how he was finally able to break you down into tiny little pieces. He grabbed his cock as his clone continued pumping into you, and started fisting himself at an equally fast pace.
“Look at yourself, princess, so fuckin’ pathetic, aren’t ya?” he grinned, “you’d always carry yourself like you were the most important person in the room – like no one else mattered but you, all because of your goddamn status.”
You whined in response, unable to verbalize anything as your mind softened with every single thrust of his cock; you were becoming malleable, your mind opening and wishing to be molded by him the more he fucked you.
“I reject all of that. You were never important – you’re nothing but a fuckin’ brat for me to tame, a slut who needs nothing but a cock to make her happy.”
He slapped your face with his cock, some of the release which seeped out from his tip managing to find itself on your cheeks before he began stroking himself at a furious pace once more. His other clone pounded himself into your cunt, the blunt head of it fucking that one spot inside of you which made your mind go blank.
He was right – you weren’t a princess, you weren’t someone with status or wealth or royal blood – you were nothing but a hole all this time for him to use and fill, a cumslut, a cocksleeve – all for the man in front of you.
How could you be so blind?
All you could do was moan, becoming more and more pathetic as his clone filled you with his cock, clenching around it and gripping his cock like a vice, your cunt sucking him back in every single time he pulled out.
But it wasn’t enough.
You needed – you craved the Sanemi in front of you. You needed him – not his clone, to take you, to truly beat you into submission like the dumb little brat you were.
“Please, please Sanemi– I need you,” you begged with the man in front of you, tears filling your eyes once more as you pleaded for him to fill you – to make you his.
The Sanemi in front of you said nothing before standing up to his full height as his clone removed his cock from you. The original Sanemi waved his hand yet again, this time allowing a cushioned mattress to appear in the small, dark corridor the two of you were in. 
The clone sat down on the mattress, before the original followed suit.
“Sit on my lap,” he demanded, and you obeyed immediately – thighs wrapping around his waist as he slipped his cock into you, to which your head fell to his shoulder as you let out what could only be described as a sigh of relief.
Sanemi gripped your hips, moving you up and down on his cock so you could get an understanding of what he wanted you to do, showing you exactly how he wanted you to bounce on his dick.
It wasn’t long before you grew enough confidence to perform the action by yourself, moving your hips up and down as you fucked yourself on his cock. Your arms found their way around his neck as you whimpered softly into his ear as you impaled yourself on him again and again – with no thoughts going through your mind other than the desire to make him feel good.
At some point, you noticed his clone behind you, a single digit nudging at the entrance of your asshole, pushing and prodding his finger gently so he could fully enter it inside of you. Heat prickled against your cheeks as you forced yourself to relax rather than tense at the unfamiliar contact – allowing the clone’s finger to work its way into your ass.
You continued to fuck yourself on Sanemi’s cock as one finger became two, opening you up further and further, before you felt a lubricant of some sort being conjured from the clone’s fingers, allowing him easier access to your hole as he continued fingering you.
“Relax f’ me, sweetheart,” the clone muttered as you whimpered in response, your movements slowing as you noticed his cock pressing against your ass – which had also been covered in lube – before slowly pushing into you.
You choked on a moan as you felt him stretch you out more than you thought possible, having fully stopped your movements in order to focus on accommodating his massive length inside of you.
Realizing this, Sanemi readjusted himself so that he was laying on his back, heels digging into the mattress before continuing to fuck into you. His clone got up on his knees before entering himself back into your tight hole, entering you when the other Sanemi pulled out – constantly being filled by either one of them without end.
“Fuckk,” you groaned, mind addled with pleasure as the two Sanemis kept filling you with their cocks, unrelenting in their thrusts as they bullied themselves deeper and deeper into your holes. You felt that same pressure building up in your abdomen again, becoming tighter and tighter with each plunge of their cocks.
“Please, ‘m gonna– ‘m gonna,” you begged Sanemi once more as your tears started to flow freely down your cheeks, pleading with him to let you cum.
“No. You’re gonna fuckin’ hold it. You don’t get to cum until I tell you to,” he answered, making you whine yet again at how unfair he was being.
They started fucking you even harder, thrusts unrelenting as they took turns filling you up. It took everything within you to not cum – to obey Sanemi’s command, shutting your eyes tightly as you tried focusing on anything other than how good they were making you feel.
Both Sanemi and his clone’s thrusts started to become sloppier, rutting into you as they both started to reach their own ends.
“I’m gonna cum in this fuckin’ pussy,” Sanemi growled, his voice raspy as he fucked into you, his cock starting to twitch as he neared orgasm, “gonna cum in my pussy, isn’t that right, brat?”
You nodded, “Please! Need your cum Sanemi, please cum inside me–!”
With one final stroke, both him and his clone released deep inside of you – flooding both of your holes with their hot ropes of cum.
“Fuck! Too– too much! Gonna– ah!”
You couldn’t help it– the feeling of them filling you up felt too good. Despite desperately wishing to obey Sanemi’s order, you ended up orgasming all over their cocks, gushing around them as warm ropes filled you up, with both of them groaning as you clenched and pulsed around them.
“Fuck–! ‘M sorry! ‘M so sorry!” you whined loudly as you came, hips betraying you as you attempted to prolong your euphoria by grinding down onto them.
After coming down from your high, you were met with a stormy glare from the man in front of you. 
Your eyes widened, knowing you’d fucked up.
“I’m so sorry, Sanemi, I didn’t mean to, I–”
Sanemi grabbed your face, his thick fingers pressing into either of your cheeks.
“What did I fuckin’ tell you?” he asked simply, and a fresh set of tears brimmed at your eyes.
“Y-You told me not to cum,” you answered meekly.
“That’s right, brat,” he responded, waving his free hand to dismiss his clone – making his double disappear completely as he pulled out of your pussy. You whined at the lack of something filling you up, your poor cunt clenching around nothing once more as Sanemi moved away from you.
“On your back, now.”
You obeyed, flipping onto your back and spreading your legs for him without a second thought. You fought the urge to rub your clit – knowing it wasn’t your place to provide yourself pleasure anymore, as you watched him place his cock right in front of your entrance.
“Please, ‘m sorry,” you pleaded as you watched him glide it up and down your sopping pussy, gathering your slick on the tip of his cock. His lilac eyes met yours once more as he finally lined himself up at your entrance.
“If you want to cum so bad, fine. I’ll make you cum until you can’t even fuckin’ think anymore.”
He pushed his cock inside of you, flicking at your clit with his thumb as he dragged his length against your slick walls, brushing against that one spot which made you see stars.
“Please, nngh– need it,” you sobbed as he relentlessly fucked into you, before he took one of his hands and pressed it down on your lower stomach.
“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll fuckin’ get it, brat–” he panted, “feel me? Feel my cock pressing all the way into your stomach?”
You nodded, eyes rolling back as he refused to let up, your orgasm building on itself again until it finally reached its peak once more.
“Fuck–!” you screamed as he fucked you through your orgasm, not letting up even as you came down from your high, denying you any break from the pleasure that he was giving you.
It wasn’t long before the next orgasm as Sanemi rubbed your clit at a similar speed to his thrusts, causing you to gush again around his cock. He groaned as your cunt pulsed around him, milking him for all he had – yet he didn’t stop, rather, he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you – denying his own release in order to fulfill his promise of overstimulating you.
At some point – you weren’t entirely sure when – Sanemi folded you in half, your legs reaching your shoulders as he slammed even deeper into your cunt, his cock brushing against your cervix with each stroke. Your mouth hung open, your voice emitting short, unrestrained moans as he continued his assault on your pussy – fully abusing it until it molded into the shape of his cock.
“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum, brat,” Sanemi grunted as his hips fell onto yours with every single stroke of his cock. You whimpered, wishing for nothing more than his cum to fill you up – to breed you like the whore you were. 
You responded with incoherent babbles, whining and moaning the more he rutted into your cunt, his thrusts getting sloppier as he approached his peak for a second time.
“Gonna fill you up, make you pregnant before you’re even– hah– even married,” he panted, a promise which made you clench around him even more, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, brat?”
“Y-Yes!” you managed to voice as he slammed himself deep inside you one final time, grunting as he filled you up – triggering your own final orgasm, causing you to milk him dry as he painted your walls white.
Sanemi collapsed to the side of you as the two of you regained your breath, staying like that for a few minutes before either of you spoke.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said awkwardly, “for ruining your garden in the way that I did.”
In response to your silence, he continued, “I had gone too far, I took something that you held dear to your heart away from you. I’m sorry.”
“I think I need to apologize as well,” you finally said, “not just to you, but to the others as well.”
Sanemi turned on his side, holding himself up by his elbow as he looked down at you, a slight grin on his face.
“You mean to tell me that fucking you was the solution to your brattiness this whole time? Not the crows or the dead cow–”
“Shut up!” you laughed as you smacked him in the chest, only causing him to grin more from your reaction.
“Am I wrong, princess?” he jokingly inquired, to which you hid your face from him with the palms of your hands – until he pushed your arms away, looking down at you with a triumphant smile on his face.
“You’re so stupid,” you half-heartedly spit at him, to which he put a hand to his chest in mock pain.
“You wound me, princess.”
You shook your head, scoffing as he got up, making the mattress beneath you disappear with a final wave of his hand, causing you to fall slightly onto the cold floor of the dark corridor.
“Are you going somewhere?” you asked him.
“I’m not exactly fond of castles, sweetheart, I can’t stand the pretentious atmosphere they tend to have.”
“So you’re leaving?” you further questioned, a little upset with the idea of not seeing him again.
“I am, but, if you are going to miss me so terribly, I could always sweep in and take you away from this wretched place, but I doubt you’d so easily leave your status and wealth behind.”
You remained silent, knowing that it would be near impossible for you to forsake all of which you knew and had for a simple, spontaneous desire to say yes, you would.
Sanemi smiled, his eyes soft as he gazed upon you – what was once hatred now replaced with something rather unfamiliar before vanishing before your very eyes, leaving you to stare at the emptiness of the corridor that you were in – having become alone once again.
Sighing, you stood up, gathering yourself – realizing that your once torn dress had been somehow completely repaired – as though it were entirely new.
With a little bit of difficulty, you managed to put your dress back on before heading back to your chambers, the unease of being married the following day looming over your mind once again.
The chirping of birds could be heard from your window once more, and, out of pure curiosity, you decided to peek out from your window to gaze out upon what was left of your garden. Yet, instead of seeing nothing but scorched soil, you managed to spot the blooming of a new plant – one which had not previously grown in your garden at all.
Rain lilies.
Perhaps, you thought, I should go down there and nurture them myself.
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Taglist: @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a, @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @pastelbluecloudy3, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @llearlert, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @roronoagem, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh, @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701, @whatthefucksatan, @peachdues, @xxsabitoxx (If your name is crossed out, it means tumblr didn't allow me to tag you. Apologies for the inconvenience.)
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I hope y'all enjoyed :)
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marlynnofmany · 1 month
Text
The Indignity that is Hiccups
I leaned against the broom and yawned, tired in more ways than one. The mess in the storage hold was going to take a while to clean. And just because the universe has ironic timing, I hiccupped while my mouth was wide open. It echoed off the metal walls. Luckily for me, none of my alien crewmates were there to hear it. 
Or so I thought. A bundle of tentacles and a curious squid face peered around the doorway. 
I sighed, hiccuping again. “Yes it’s me; no I’m not doing it on purpose.”
Mur eased into the room, stepping carefully around the snowdrifts of flour from where a storage crate had broken. “Why are you making that kind of noise on accident?” He was carrying a bundle of something wrapped up in one tentacle, but seemed more interested in conversation than in whatever that was.
“It’s called hiccups,” I said. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that other species have to deal with this to-o?” As much as I tried to get the sentence out smoothly, I was betrayed at the end.
“None that I know of. So what is it? Some kind of compulsion?”
“No, nothing like that.” I went back to sweeping with irritated strokes of the broom. “It’s a muscle spasm that’s never been fully explained. It usually goes away pretty quickly for me, but it’s annoying. Much like this flour.”
“I bet,” Mur said, looking around the room. He uncurled his tentacle. “I brought batteries for the big gravity wand.”
“Oh, Paint just went to get some! Thank you. She’ll be back soon.”
“Good,” Mur said, wiping at the flour dust that was already settling on him. “Ugh, this is unpleasant.”
“Sure i-is,” I hiccuped, followed by an exasperated noise. “At least I don’t get acid reflux with the hiccups. Small mercies.”
Mur asked, “Get what?” as Paint arrived, wielding the big gravity wand like a broadsword.
“Stand back! Oh, hi Mur. These batteries are only half charged, so I’m going to clean as fast as I can!” As short as she was, she looked like a scaly child waving a grownup weapon that she had no business using. Which wasn’t entirely wrong.
“I am standing ba-ack,” I announced, taking my broom to the doorway where the air was clearer.
Paint gave me a sideways look, finger hesitating over the power button.
I sighed and brushed flour dust off my sleeve. “It’s a stupid human thing.”
“Muscle spasms,” Mur put in helpfully. “Apparently sometimes they come with acid?”
“With what?” Paint demanded.
“Not like that,” I hurried to clarify. “Some people get stomach acid splashing up their throat, just enough to hurt.”
“That’s terrible,” Paint said, concern all over her scaly orange face. “What causes it?”
“No one’s really sure. My favorite theory is that it’s evolutionary history, our brains trying to breathe with gills, but—” I paused for another hiccup. “—Pretty sure that’s not actually it.”
“Wild,” Mur said. “Here, Paint; I brought fresh batteries.”
“Oh, thank you! No wonder I couldn’t find them.”
That would have been a great time for the hiccups to stop, while the conversation had moved on, but no such luck. I leaned against the door frame and tried to breathe evenly.
Paint juggled batteries, finally setting the gravity wand on the floor to swap them out properly. After another loud hiccup, she asked, “What makes the muscle spasms go away?”
“They usually do on their own,” I said. “Some people get them for a long time, but I’ve been pretty lu-ucky.”
“Sure,” Mur said, picking up the old batteries. “Lucky.”
Paint stood back up. “Nothing makes them calm down faster?”
“There are a few things,” I admitted. “Mostly stuff to distract the person from paying attention to them, really. Drink water from the far side of a cup, get startled by something, hold your breath a long time. I usually just take a lot of deep breaths, and they go aw-ay.” I grimaced. “Not today, apparently.”
Something hard closed around both shoulders and yanked me backward into the hallway, to where open mandibles hissed in my face, surrounded by shiny black exoskeleton and terrifying faceted eyes.
“Ahhh! Good gods, Trrili!” I stumbled upright, gasping for breath as she released me with far too much smugness.
“You arrrre welcome,” Trrili purred. “Wasss that enough of a ssstarrrtle, orrr ssshould I find a nice hiding placcce to jump out frrrom?”
“I’m good; thanks!” I said. My heart was beating dangerously fast, but the hiccups were long gone.
“Hm. Disappointing,” Trrili said, dropping the hiss. “Let me know if you require further medicinal terror.” Then she glided off down the hallway on many quiet bug legs.
I shuddered a little. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll do that.”
Paint was wide-eyed, crouched to pick up the gravity wand where she’d dropped it. I’d dropped the broom too, and I hadn’t heard either of them fall. The batteries had fallen out again.
Paint asked, “Are you going to tell her next time you have those spasms?”
“Ha! No, I don’t think I will.”
“I might,” Mur said with a grin.
“Hey now,” I said sternly, bending to pick up the broom. “Don’t make me sweep flour on you.”
He laughed and danced out of range, and the three of us got back to work cleaning up with nary a hiccup.
I did sneeze at the dust, which started a whole other conversation, but at least they knew what those were.
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!
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yeahspider · 1 year
Text
back 2 sleep 🕸️
VE’s note - this one is a lil wild i’ll admit . totally not proofread and def nsfw . i’m pretty sure this is considered dubcon so yeah tw oh and cockwarming also .
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hyunjin loved that you ran through his mind 24/7 you. he couldn’t get enough of you. you dominated his thoughts at breakfast as he sipped his orange juice, and a night you even invaded his dreams. which is what put him in the predicament he’s in now. dick swollen and angry as he tried his best to keep quiet while he pumped himself next to your sleeping form. he had tried just going back to sleep after waking up from the dream, but the sight of your head bobbing up and down as you sucked him off was still replaying in his head. and your half naked body sleeping soundly beside him didn’t help either . id he tilted his head a little to the left he could see the silhouette of your body under the covers. he placed a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder. one little peck couldn’t hurt. until that one peck turned into him leaving soft wet kisses on the exposed inches of skin he could see. hyunjin just couldn’t help himself the taste of your skin was just so addictive. he didn’t even notice he had started rocking his hips against your back until you let out a whimper and shifted slightly. your eyes fluttered open as you asked him what he was doing up so early. he just shushed you with little excuses.
“couldn’t help it just had to feel my baby”
“just go back to sleep it’s okay i’ll be quick”
you weren’t ever one to refuse hyunjin and the way his lips and hands were lulling you back to sleep you couldn’t find anything to complain about. so you just let him make you feel good. his fingers traveled down to your drenched cunt and he let out a groan.
“already so wet for me princess you’re being so good”
hyunjin couldn’t believe how pliant you were being for him . his cock twitched at your quiet submission. he let out a grown as he sunk his cock into you. satisfaction coursing though him as he heard you hum in contentment. you were so warm and so tight it made his head spin.
“gonna move okay keep being good for me baby”
he gently started moving in and out of you. reveling in the fuzzy feeling building up in his gut. he knew he wasn’t going to last long with the way you were clenching on his cock. hearing the little moans you let out in your half conscious state was enough to make him paint your walls with his cum. once he came down from his high he didn’t have the energy in him to pull out so he just settled his body next to yours. whispering little thank yous into your hair as he drifted back to sleep .
“thank you for letting me use you princess i’ll make it up to you i promise”
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xianyoon · 1 month
Text
saturday sunset ┆ my great, lost love
childe x gn!reader | university au written with the MV for NIKI's oceans&engines in mind. part one out of five. goodbyes are hard, esp when it's childe. 1.6k words. fluff & angst. ꕀ reblogs appreciated, thank uuuu !
goodbyes are always bittersweet. mutual goodbyes are a touch sweet, a little salty, words left unsaid hanging off the roof of your tongue – did we really have to say goodbye, childe? the air feels a little warmer, the lingering humidity forming beads of sweat on your forehead. the sweat could be from something else, you weren’t sure. you weren’t quite sure of anything right now.
you were sure of the man in front of you, though – purple hoodie pulled over his fringe, that childish, toothy smile you fell deep in love with plastered on his face. said man was to depart today, at 6pm, 5 hours from now.
“come on, we have to go.” you hated the words that came out of your mouth. you didn’t want to go at all. your feet stayed planted firmly on the ground as your words betrayed you.
“i don’t want to go yet! we have, like, five hours to go,” childe whines, pulling you closer to him. he was seated on the edge of your bed, almost savouring the last bits of your room – the scent of your bedsheets, the blue throw blanket he laid over you when you always fell asleep first, and . . . you. i don’t want you to go either.
“okay, but if we want to reach the airport on time, we have to go now so we can eat first.”
“i’m not even that hungry yet!” he sounds almost like a petulant toddler, and you almost hate that. he doesn’t deserve to not want to go – childe made the decision after all, didn’t he? archons, it hurt.
“come on.” you poke his sides, eliciting a shriek.
“okay, okay!” childe lets out a laugh as he lets himself get tugged – you let out a small scream from the unexpected lack of force, thrusting you against your bedroom wall with a slam.
“shit. i’m sorry.” he bursts into quiet laughter, rubbing your back. childe looks so much taller than you now – he towers over you, hands against the wall behind. anyone who had come in after your roughhousing would have thought that it was the result of a kabedon. he locks his eyes with yours, pressing a saccharine sweet kiss to your forehead.
his kisses, usually bursting with unparalleled passion, seems somewhat . . . lacking today. it’s almost as if the sombre realisation that he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for a long, long time set in, bleeding bittersweet into the warmth of his touch.
“a proper kiss, love.” you pout, pulling him closer once again.
“i’m sorry.” childe chuckles and presses a kiss to your lips this time – warm, pure, loving, everything. that was his proper kiss. he pulls away slowly, soft smile etched onto his features.
“thank you.”
“hm?”
“thank you. for everything.”
“you know i’m happy to support you.” your words feel like they fall short, but it’s all you can offer.
“no, i’m serious. i know how hard it was for you to accept my decision.”
you look away, unable to meet his eyes. a part of you wants to blurt that it was nothing at all, no, it was your role as a partner to support and love him in everything he did – but you couldn’t quite deny the hurt and pain you felt after the tear-streaked nights, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to get used to it as a replacement of his own – you had already been thinking too far ahead of the nights you’d have to spend away from his arms.
childe’s hand lays outstretched, and you bring your smaller hand next to his. our secret handshake. this overly complicated sequence that ended up with you in his arms. please, don’t unlink your pinky from mine, you want to whisper. his touch seems to last a little longer after your plead.
the universe seems to lend grace to you with how long the last few hours together feel.
the sky, darkening with time, paints a beautiful picture streaked with reds, oranges, yellows blending into one another – the sun bids goodbye in a masterpiece of a painting. the air feels salty with the ocean breeze, a cacophony of shouts and yells of other beachgoers in the background as you and childe sit on the hood of your car, precariously balancing burgers and drinks on your laps.
“heh, you were right. i was pretty hungry.” he grins as he wolfs down a cheeseburger, the local speciality in your hometown – you silently praise whatever force urged you to get two of them, just for him. you indulge childe with a soft, i-knew-it look, eliciting a laugh from him.
i’m going to miss you, childe.
the car bounces up slightly, breaking you out of your stupor as you watch him lean into the window to turn up the music. his wrapper sits balled up, paper crumpled and left to the side as he stretches his hand out to take yours.
“dance with me?” a cheeky grin appears. please don’t do this, love. it’s not like we have all the time in the world. you grab his hand anyways, twirling yourself under his arm. it’s not like we have all the time in the world. you let your mind wander once you’re safe in his arms, just like the night of your school prom.
“i have news, babe. you might want to sit down for this.”
“is everything alright?”
“yeah, yeah! more than alright. everything’s great. uh. just take a look.” he thrusts a piece of paper into your face, waggling it – you try your best to read it with all his movement, but take it into your hands instead.
To Mr. Tartaglia,
We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance to Teyvat University in the fall of 2024.
teyvat university.
that was over ten thousand miles away.
ten thousand miles away from childe.
“…are you alright, (y/n)?” you want to cry. he sounds so earnest, so excited, that you feel like you must be happy for him. even if there was a nagging feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach. gotta say i’m okay.
“i’m… i’m so proud of you.” you force a smile onto your features, hugging him tightly. keep smiling, and maybe it’d feel natural. it’s just a shock to your system, after all. that’s all it was. right?
you feel the warmth of his arms pull away in the present moment, replaced by the cool sea breeze, to see him laughing and dancing to the song on the radio. what a pleasure it is to see him so carefree.
“it’s time to go.”
“already?! noooo.” you let out a soft laugh at that, tugging him towards the trash bin to dispose of the mess, and back to the car. it was time to greet the airport, and to give childe a goodbye.
“i don’t want you to leave,” you whisper, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. you can feel his boarding pass sticking out of his ticket tickling the back of your neck, but you nestle deeper into him – time seems to stop for your embrace, travellers in the airport moving in slow-motion as he gathers you in his arms for one last hug.
“i know, i don’t want to leave you either. i’ll call you every other day, and i’ll come back every chance i get. make sure to not get sick of me, yeah?” he playfully tussles your hair.
“i can never get sick of you.” your words are muffled by his thick hoodie.
the chime of his plane’s announcement is heard over the airport system – it’s real now. childe is leaving, and he’s leaving now. you’re not going to see him for a few months once he goes past immigration.
“please don’t forget me,” you whisper almost desperately, clutching the back of his hoodie. there's a quiet vulnerability to your words, tears unshed waiting to make their appearance, begging him to stay.
“are you alright?” childe brings a hand up to your forehead. “i’m not going to forget you just because i’m studying overseas, darling.”
“okay then.”
“but i really have to go now.”
“i know.” you hold him tighter.
he laughs, kissing you on the lips one last time before breaking away from your embrace.
“i’ll be back before you know it. we’ll go back to all the places we used to go to, okay? the diner, the bookstore we hid in when it rained, and the beach, and ooh! the aquarium we brought teucer to? we’ll go back there too. maybe we’ll get a discount for being regulars.” childe wraps both arms around you one more time.
“okay. i’ll hold you to that.”
“i love you, babe.”
“i love you too.” you close your eyes and hate yourself for wishing that your boyfriend’s achievements were only a fragment of your dream.
you find yourself back in the same spot where you had dinner with him, perched on the hood of your car and admiring the fading sunset, the sky blue with hints of yellow from the sun’s final goodbye for the day.
you’re not even gone yet, but i miss you already.
a loud roar of a plane’s engines brings your eyes up to the sky – the very same plane carrying childe flying overhead. your eyes immediately shift to the airplane windows, hoping to spot a glimpse of the messy ginger hair, or a small bit of that purple hoodie he always wore. you don’t see anything, and a sigh of defeat parts your lips.
please stay like you, childe. you’re the one person i can’t outgrow.
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https-furina · 4 months
Text
— i love you endlessly ! ★ | edition: siblings, version 1.0
ft. lyney + lynette, kaeya + diluc, aether + lumine & albedo + klee. content. heavy angst, all family/platonic love, character death, mentions of blood, injury, light cursing. references to lyney’s vision story + lyney and lynette's story, hints at kaeya + lyney with ptsd & lyney with separation anxiety. aether + lumine is purely headcanon and is not representative of the future of genshin.
notes. my first time writing anything ever with klee and this is how it’s going… i’m so sorry klee omfg. this actually used to have ayato+ayaka and jean+barbara in it !! but i cut them out so i could post it since it’s been in my drafts for a LONG time and they weren’t finished yet. i’ll do a part two with them. taglist — open. @ryuryuryuyurboat @soleillunne @rainswept
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✉️ mail received! sender: lyney & lynette
lyney lacks to admit the pure fear that sends shocks and shivers down his body when lynette is not within immediate sight of him. she likes to chime that he says some weird things; perhaps he does on late nights when lynette is accompanying freminet without him - father had assigned him to a different mission and he'd finished much earlier than her. thoughts rush through his mind quicker than he can process them, his aching legs pacing the floor of his bedroom.
are they okay? did something go wrong? lyney's mind is restless at all times, he needs to know lynette is safe. in a few moments of silence, he'll see a younger lynette in the dark, her ears flattened to her head and tail tucked in antagonising fear - the night that father had saved her life, mere moments from the potential loss of her life. lyney's throat will always tighten, breathing rapidly until his lungs burn.
he knows exactly how he got his vision, in the twilight of a cold night, surrounded by danger. he knows that he had begged father so recklessly for a delusion simply to fill the gap that the lack of a vision had given him but he didn't care, he wanted to accompany his sister. he couldn't let her out of his sight again.
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there's a painful silence that's filling the orphanage. on most days, it would be bustling - after all, father had acquired many orphans in light of their dire situations being unable to refuse such kind help as she offers. lyney catches himself frowning, feet pacing the worn floorboards of his bedroom floor. if lynette was here, she'd have already quipped about how the floor will 'disappear beneath him if he keeps pacing.'
the reminder of his twin sister should make him smile. it should draw a crack of a smile to his face and curl the corners of his lips upwards but it doesn't. she still hasn't returned from her mission and while lyney refuses to admit that he's been counting the hours since he was separated from lynette, he most definitely has.
an oil lamp burns by his bedside, painting the room in an orange hue as it glows and yet casting shadows across the walls. lyney can't help but catch sight of the shadows that night, painted on the walls in the glow of roaring flames that crackled from where they burned. he's painfully reminded of the fragile young girl lynette was, vulnerable and almost caught in a life threatening situation. he contemplates what would have happened to her if father hadn't interrupted in time but he's quick to shake his head. he's seen many what if scenarios in his nightmares, waking him as his body trembles and his lungs burn for oxygen.
the pained reminders stain his mind, torturing him when there's a burst of noise from the orphanage's entry hall; multiple voices screaming his name repeatedly, he can hear them calling for him and begging to know where he is. lyney whips his head towards his bedroom door, storming forth as he hurriedly opens it. he catches eyes with one of the orphans who'd been calling his name so painfully. they're wide, fearful and their face is void of colour.
"lyney! it's lynette-" need they say more? the boy rushes forward, skipping steps as he runs down the spiral staircases dressed in lavish red carpets that father had installed for a sense of aesthetic - she had claimed she couldn't work nor focus in a place so bland. - there's a sense of dread that fuels every inch of lyney's body, tearing him apart when he bursts into the entry hall.
beneath a dazzling chandelier with a warm amber glow, arlecchino herself has nestled beside the form of someone on the checker tiled floor, surrounded by orphans that she's trying desperately to shoo away, demanding for space in all of her authority. she's seem awry, not her typical self and lyney's lilac eyes fall to the familiar shoes of his twin sister, poking from the crowd.
his heart sinks, colour leaving his face as he hesitantly approaches; she's just injured, he convinces himself when he sees the stain of red on her usually pristine white shirt, something she was devoted to keeping that way for their shows. the orphans part at the sight of him, the dark eyes of arlecchino raising to him before she trails back down to lynette.
the girl is propped onto her lap, head rested against arlecchino's thighs. lynette has always been a pale girl, lyney knows this well enough whenever he glimpses his own shade of skin colour but she's even paler than usual, her eyelashes fluttered shut. the silence between himself and father is almost deafening.
"she's alright, isn't she?" he barely manages to croak out, seeing how arlecchino has pressed a lanky hand to where lynette's blood has seeped from. she almost grimaces, it's the most emotion lyney has seen from her for a while.
"she's already gone, lyney," was that a crack in her voice? lyney doesn't have the time to ponder it when his vision goes dark, he's dizzy and there's static in the corners of his eyes when he struggles to get air into his lungs, "freminet is in the infirmary."
the infirmary, yes - that means he's getting medical help but the same can't be said for his twin, who he had lacked to part with since they were born. the twin he would tell everything to, who he trusted with every fibre of his being as much as she did with him too.
there's a stinging in his eyes when tears prick at them, threatening to spill the longer he stares at lynette's body. he falls to his knees, not caring for the pain it causes when the floor is less than comfortable, pressing his face into lynette's clothing. she smells the same as she always does, the faint smell of the sugary desserts he'd reprimand her for, lumidouce bells and the ocean.
he lets out a cry into the fabric of her clothing, his hands gripping at it until his knuckles turn white. his cheek presses to her neck, she's cold to the touch already and arlecchino can't help but turn her head away at the sight of her most useful child reduced to a sobbing, shaking mess on the entry hall floor, gripping his dead sister for dear life.
✉️ mail received! sender: kaeya & diluc
despite going down two very different paths of life and perhaps saying things they shouldn’t have, they cannot deny the invisible ties of brotherly love. no matter how much diluc may throw sharp words at the cryo vision, they see their younger selves sometimes like reflections of the past in a shattered mirror’s shards.
on dreary nights where the rain storms against glass windows, when one brother remains consumed by a sweet yet bitter liquid on his tongue and the other brandishes a claymore in the night, they recognise their indifferences. they recognise the unshakeable bond that their pasts have tested to its limit. those around them too acknowledge that the past cannot truly deter emotions.
kaeya frequents the dawn winery much at the expense of his brother, who grumbles and snatches bottles of (almost stolen) wine from his tanned hands. it could be a misfortune he carries to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and this scene… feels so familiar to him.
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a crack of lightning decorates the dark sky looming over mondstadt. it’s been like this for a few hours now, trapping the two brothers in an awkward silence as they linger around the manor. diluc has made the effort to avoid his brother and yet tresses of blue hair keep getting in his peripheral vision.
“there’s been fatui sightings not far north from the winery,” kaeya’s icy gaze flickers towards the office door that isn’t completely shut, “perhaps we should tell master kaeya—”
“he doesn’t need to know, i’ll deal with it personally.” the deep voice of diluc booms, full of authority and the slightest attitude at the mention of his brother that makes kaeya click his tongue, pocketing the small, circular mora he’d been tossing with his thumb as diluc emerges from the office, the winery worker not far behind.
the brothers exchange a look, perhaps this scenario is all too familiar for them both to let it play out. diluc bites his tongue when he prepares for those words he knows kaeya will say.
“he doesn’t need to know?” kaeya mocks lowkey, a coy smile on his face as he dusts his hands together and approaches the redhead, “i’ll be accompanying you.”
and somehow the fiery red male cannot argue back, his eyes narrowing at his brother in distaste when he accepts his fate - it is raining after all, maybe kaeya’s vision could come in more useful than the cavalry captain typically tends to be, his breath laced with wine.
the brothers set off immediately, heads hanging low as they follow the muddy paths out of the winery; ones they’d followed many times before. something about this reminds them of how accustomed to each other’s presence they are. the reports from various workers at the winery are indeed correct and whilst diluc storms into the fight, vision ablaze with an anger that cannot be sated at the cost of a few mere fatui deaths, kaeya cannot help but ponder if there’s too many of them to take on by themselves.
rain impairs his vision, trickling down his face and soaking his hair to his skin. brandishing a blade in his hand, the young man can't help but think he's seen this before. another crack of lightning brightens the sky as a weapon is plunged into diluc's abdomen, his face pales as ruby eyes meet kaeya's panicked gaze.
the realisation hits when suddenly kaeya sees crepus' face over his brother's. he sees that evening when he arrived a little too late, the air struggling to get to his lungs no matter how he gasps for breath, clouds of breath quick to disperse in front of cold lips. kaeya is quick to finish the remaining enemies off before he's forced to look at diluc's slumped body in the mud.
"diluc?" he whispers, kneeling beside the bleeding man. diluc's gloved hands are pressed to his wound, a grimace on his face, "brother?"
"i heard you the first time," he grumbles, not wanting to admit the warmth that consumes his adrenaline filled heart at the sentiment behind hearing kaeya say brother once again, "..say it again."
kaeya takes a moment, his shaking hands dropping his faithful sword as he presses them over diluc's. he no longer feels the warmth emitting from his brother's pyro vision, his eyes stinging painfully - he blames the rain, of course, it's getting in his eyes.
"brother," it falls from his mouth hurriedly, followed by a quiet curse under his breath, "now isn't the time for this! w-we'll get you to adelinde..."
for the first time in years, a glimpse of a grin crosses the redhead's stoic face. in between shallow breaths and blurry sight, he gazes over the familiarity of his brother's face; blood or not. a final breath escapes his chapped lips in the cold of the night, his last thought going over how he wishes he had fixed things with kaeya sooner.
the cryo vision yells out into the night, quick to pull diluc against his chest as the rain continues to ruthlessly batter down on them. it happened again, he curses, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears blend with the raindrops on his cheeks. it won't happen again.
✉️ mail received! sender: aether & lumine
bound by blood, they have always been as thick as thieves together. no ends of time could stop them, no ends of trials and challenges that cross their paths on the journey to find each other. their determination is honourable across teyvat, seeking each other out as if there is no other person in the universe.
without each other they do not know what to do. after all, what do you do when the person you've travelled long and far with disappears without a trace and you're left with nothing but your wit to find them again?
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"brother!" her voice calls out, excitement coursing through her veins as she hurriedly drops the dull blade she'd sported her whole journey these past few years, traversing nations and fighting gods and others alike in search for her brother. aether does not budge, slumped against a rock overlooking the devastation left of khaerni'ah.
lumine's eyes trail to it, the smoke that rises in shades of grey and black, revealing that the flames still burnt at buildings and civilisation. the ashes still smoulder, hot to the touch as the embers glow and flicker through the air. this is not the khaenri'ah she remembers nor is it most likely the khaenri'ah that dainsleif remembers too - dainsleif.. where is he?
the blonde whips her head around in confusion at the sudden disappearance of the male who'd assisted her journey against the abyss order, solemnly appearing out of nowhere with new information to support her journey. a frown decorates her face before she turns her attention back to aether, her smile replacing her former expression.
"aether?" lumine calls out when her brother is unresponsive - was he mad at her for taking so long? why wasn't he sharing the same excitement as her? she stumbles over, breaking into a sprint towards the boulder her twin brother sat beside her. finally, after all this time, she could hold her brother again. her arms envelope the shoulders of her brother, breathing in that familiar scent mixed with the cursed remnants of smoke and ash that fill the air.
but aether doesn't respond to the hug nor the death tight grip lumine is succumbing him to in all of her excitement. slowly, she raises her head. aether's golden eyes are glazed over, his pupils gone and replaced with white. lumine's smile begins to fade, pulling away from the hug when she realises her brother's warm skin that she craved to touch is instead cold and pale.
the blood that has trickled from the corner of his mouth and seeps from his neck has darkened as it oxidises, speckled with the black ash from the flames that have torched khaenri'ah. the breath hitches in lumine's throat and it's suddenly harder to breathe than it was a few moments ago.
a wail escapes her, screaming into the eerie silence left in the aftermath of death and destruction. there's no one to comfort her, to answer her cries. was it all for nothing? had she journeyed this whole time, endlessly fulfilling everyone else's requests just for a snippet of information attaining to her brother, just to be too late?
✉️ mail received! sender: albedo & klee
klee is too young to remember where albedo comes from or even possibly his master, at least this is what he tells himself. klee merely does not care for the trivial matters revolving around where people come from or where they go - despite missing her mother alice dearly sometimes. no, instead the small girl cares for every face surrounding her in light of her mother’s absence; this is particularly albedo.
the people of mondstadt recognise that potentially the small girl is attached to him, referring to him as her big brother as if rhinedottir had made him specifically for her. and on cold nights atop dragonspine’s summit, dressed from head to toe for warmth, the chalk prince considers it.
with a bubbly personality and bright smile that sends everyone into gasps of awe, klee tends to get what she wants and albedo, as her designated big brother, is also victim to these schemes.
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“klee, don’t stray too far,” albedo chimes, concerned for her safety when sky blue eyes follow the brightly coloured girl’s attire through the bleak backdrop of snow, “it’s not safe.”
stars twinkle endlessly above the pair, shining like gold now that the snowstorm had cleared up and dark grey clouds had rolled away to reveal the night sky. klee stares in awe, the stars seem much clearer out here.
“big brother! look at that star!” klee points a gloved finger up at a particular star and whilst albedo gazes upon it, he’s reminded of the very diamond engraved to his throat. his breath hitches and he pulls his gaze away from the stars, approaching the small girl as to stop her leaving his side for too long.
he’d fell so hopelessly for that innocent grin and sparkling eyes when she begged him to let her stay the night with him on dragonspine - he knows he shouldn’t fear for her life entirely, there was a reason acting grand master jean kept klee tucked away in solitary confinement so much but he still couldn’t help the tense of his muscles when he watches her tread through thick layers of snow.
the silence on dragonspine after snowfall was usually albedo’s favourite thing about being stationed up here alone with his experiments but he found himself holding his breath, gloved hands ready to reach for the small girl every time she steps an inch too far. something seemed off but he denoted it down to him being anxious about klee’s presence on dragonspine.
amidst silence there’s a whistle, almost resembling that of an arrow soaring through air. in confusion, the blond whips his head around - nobody dares to step foot on dragonspine so recklessly, not without confiding in himself and the adventurer’s guild first, so where was that whistling coming from? that’s when klee lets out a piercing squeal into the night.
albedo is quick to turn his head back in klee’s direction, had he been so careless to take his attention from her for mere seconds only for her to end up injured? yet as his lips part to call her name, he catches sight of the young girl pierced in the neck but none other than an arrow.
the chilling air of dragonspine hitches in his throat, burning his lungs when he can’t seem to get oxygen into his body, his eyes burning holes into the sight before him when he falls to his knees beside her. she’s terrified, rasping for breath so heavily that the small clouds of warm breath dispersing at her lips are consistently appearing with sharp intakes.
the usual sparkle of ruby red eyes has been demoted to a glitter of wet liquid spilling from the corners of her eyes, her eyes set on the face of her faithful big brother she adored so heavily. she wants to speak, to call his name despite him being right in front of her but it hurts so much, why isn’t he doing something about it?
albedo only has himself to blame, he thinks when he notices the hillichurls disappearing from the cliffside when they think the threat has dissipated - the exact reason his attire was the colour scheme it was, to blend him in so effortlessly. a scowl crosses his face, tears threatening to spill but he remains strong; he has to for klee’s sake.
“i-i’m sorry,” he croaks out, filled to the brim with a guilt he wishes klee could understand when she lets out a strangled whimper, “i’m so sorry klee.”
he pleads that celestia is kind enough to give him the time to take her to the base of dragonspine, across the river to mondstadt so he can get her help. her blood stains the whites and greys of his clothes, blonde hair spilled over his shoulder as he carries her like she’s shattered porcelain.
by the time he makes it to the adventurer’s guild’s camp, out of the sheer cold that turns his limbs numb in an oddly comforting manner now, klee’s breath has ceased to exist despite all the panicked screams around her lifeless body.
he refuses to leave her body’s side, buried neck deep in a suffocating guilt that none of these people will understand. he blames himself for the death of his own little sister, one of the only people he had after his master left.
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© https-furina 2023.
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thedustyleaves · 5 months
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Sorry if you’ve answered this before, but I really love how your illustrations have such a cohesive color palette, how do you pick your colors to have a certain theme without looking monochromatic?
(In your breakdown on the saloon/western BP illustration, you mentioned that the overall color was reddish brown so you added blue to the main group to set them apart. But like how did you decide on which reddish brown colors to use for the flats?)
Thank you!! Your art is really expressive and the colors always work so well in the illustration. I’m always in awe of your pics
That’s an excellent question! My drawings actually start out pretty monochromatic because I tend to put most of my effort into the lighting and shading part to help differentiate where I want people to look.
For all of my pieces, I want my characters to be in focus. So no matter what, I always have to keep their main colors in mind and make sure their outfits and the background don’t clash with them (Kain’s red hair tends to be a problem, pft).
For my flats, I generally work with two main colors that tend to contrast each other and then I mix a lot of neutrals around them. (Sometimes the main colors are in the light and shading itself, but I’ll just focus on the flats!).
Sometimes, I will change the hue of their colors. So while Kain has bright orange hair, I will dull it down if it overwhelms the piece or doesn’t fit with the tone - like I did for the cowboy drawing - but never so much that it no longer looks like him.
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With the cowboy drawing as an example, if I strip it down to my flats, it instantly becomes very dull and monochromatic. I really enjoy working with these colors because they’re easy on the eyes (or my eyes specifically) and I can see the difference in subtle hues a lot better than if they were very high in contrast. I like working with subtleties when I want background characters to become a single unit but still be separated as individual people.
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When I picked the colors for the background, I wanted to separate the characters from the walls. Therefore, I kept the walls red and gold, and the characters brown - they’re still within the same warm-colored family, but they’re far enough away from each other that they don’t become one with each other. I also like to not have clothes from different characters blend together, so overlapping colours can't be the same. I made one coat lighter than the other, the glove warmer than the dark jacket, and so on.
(their coats are also in the same realm as the green/gold colour of the details for the curtains and the frames on the walls)
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For the paintings I actually chose to put a bit of blue and green in to help create some interest for the main characters and keep your eyes around that area, as it matches the blue they’re wearing, just a whole lot darker. It also makes them pop just enough so they look interesting against the wall, but not enough to overshadow the main characters
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I know, because of the way I work with layers, that when I add my overlays, I automatically brighten and saturate the colors a lot. It’s a lot easier for me to saturate something “dull” and move it into all kinds of hues than saturating something already high in contrast and then trying to force it into a new color theme.
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But because of this, I usually have to go back and change the colors I work with constantly while the overlays are on. Since the overlays don’t know what sort of materials they’re laying on top of, everything gets lighter and washed out, so dark skin tones, hair, and clothes have to be corrected one by one afterward. If I were to remove the overlays after I corrected it to make it feel like a dark blue outfit on Raki, it’s basically just a black void now; but with the overlay, it’s a dark blue outfit. Before that, he simple blended in with the background too much and he didn’t feel like he was a part of the group either. 
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I always try to put down colors how I imagine they’re going to look like, unaffected by light, but I’m also naturally drawn toward more earthy and warm tones, so all of my color choices will tend to lean that way.
Here’s another example of main colours vs. neutrals; the main colours are red and green/turquoise, with dark browns and greys to encapsulate them, and gold for accents or to make certain things pop (the chair, Dakon’s dark coat, etc.).
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I never want them all to wear the exact same color, but I want them to feel connected and be in the same 'colour family,' so Dakon and Kain have nearly the same dark red/brown, and Christie and Raki have nearly the same 'bright'/red.
The blacks and browns, I’ve kept warm as well, so they stay within that realm of red. I also make sure that none of them are too close to Kain’s hair since he’s in the middle of the piece, and I want your eyes to be drawn toward the middle, and his orange hair helps with that.
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The paintings I basically do not care too much about, as long as each individual painting has a single dominating colour. I mute them down with a darker overlay and ensure they don’t have strong shadows and light, so they get pushed to the background, so despite being a bunch of different colours, each painting feels like a solid color and they’re still cast in the same light as the rest of the piece, so they feel like they belong in the same room.
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I try to help move the eye around the piece as well, so I keep the big painting sort of in the same realm of red and brown as the main characters, because it’s so big it shouldn’t dominate with a new color and force interest toward it. The blue/purple ones melt in with the background as they’re close to the turquoise background, but without disappearing, the yellow ones work sort of like the gold accents and blend in with the frames, and the green paintings at the top give the illusion of a monochrome fade, so everything gets more eerie and green as the image goes up - there’s also a subtle green fade that affects the gold accents from the top down, to enhance that effect.
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This is just a few examples, if there are any pieces in particular you were thinking of, and it’s neither of these, just let me know, and I can break those down as well!
Thank you for the question; I hope I answered it somewhat, and thank you for the kind words! <3
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forever--darling · 4 months
Text
the princess of bakura
summary: you are faced with reality finally catching up with you as you are at risk of falling with your planet amidst the clone wars, yet your father the king of bakura refuses to let you stay within the burning city, thus contacting his old-time friend and jedi he was in training with to come and take you from the city.
pairings: anakin skywalker x princess!reader
word count: 2.2k
warnings/notes: mention of war, of death, mention of clone of wars, the start and beginning or rather where it all ended for the princess of bakura but not for y/n.
series masterlist | 00
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The fires appeared, reflected from the great towers in waves of orange and red. The very sound of buildings collapsing into fines of dust and ash was the only attention-holder you had from the high floors of the capital. Locked away within a side room, the gold dress pooled in heaps at your feet, as the handmaiden undid the clasps from the tops of your shoulders. The raging sounds of gunfire no longer had the ability to make you react in the form of a jump or to shiver out of fear — it was too normal, too accustomed to this life that had become Bakura. As if there could be any room for it — for the fear, that surely the evil would succumb to and never let go of. 
“Princess we must hurry,” your handmaiden Sora cried, tears welling up within her innocent green pupils. She wasn’t much older than you, in fact maybe no more than a year or two, and yet her life was sealed, sure to never escape the ruin that would become. 
“Why? They’re coming. I’m sure my escape won’t be deemed successful,” you could barely recognize your own voice, so void of hope, of a greater good but rather defeat.  
“We must not say things such as that.” 
“And why not?” you asked, turning to find a pair of tight black pants hanging in her arms, sure to not get caught on anything as if your father was expecting you to run, “It’s not as if they aren’t true.” 
She gave you the piece of garment, and you took it, aware almost as if you could sense that there was something she wasn’t telling you. Rather, was withholding as the intruders marched to the gates of the capital, their sabers and guns fully loaded. Hesitantly, you pulled the garment on just as she offered a long black tunic that was tight around the chest and shoulders, with short sleeves and bracings where the belts would go. She bit down on her lip, and you knew it then. There was something she wasn’t telling you.
“What is it?” 
“It is nothing to be concerned with. We just must hurry, to ensure your safety.” 
“My safety?” You repeated brows furrowed as her innocent face refused to meet yours. “Tell me what it is you know. I ask of it. No, I demand of it. Sora, this is perhaps our last moment in the same room together so please.”
She tried to offer a smile, one of encouragement, as the tunic slipped over your frame and tightened at the back, just like the rest of the corsets you had been wearing since you were no older than thirteen. But it was only sad, her face painted in dried tears as the corners of her lips barely managed to lift.
“The Jedis have come.” 
Hurriedly, the belts were wrapped around your mid-drift and tightened as you waited impatiently, with the sounds of soldiers’ large boots echoing off the floors outside of your room like a steed of chariots. “Go on.” 
“The king will ensure your survival, princess. One of the greatest and his padawan has been sent to ensure your departure will be successful.” 
“Departure? He wishes for me to leave?” you asked, almost in disbelief as her hands dropped from your back. 
The war only got louder, the walls seeming to shake as the fires only grew outside, catching your gaze once again. The screams were inescapable as Bakura burned to the ground. 
“He wishes for you to survive,” she said, tone firm. 
Your fists loosened, falling to your sides in the devastation that you were expected to flee to survive while the rest of your people burned and were killed… their existence sure to mean nothing by the end of the war. The Clone Wars had claimed far too many planets and innocence at that point. An anger, a sense of guilt squelched at your possibility of living while your father, the king, went down with his people, his empire. 
You didn’t wish to be a coward. You didn’t wish to flee, even if with it was the promise of survival. 
It was not fair, yet exactly how the ex-Jedi would deem to have it. 
They had too much hope for their own good, you thought with a permanent furrow in your brow, tucking the long strands of hair back behind your ears and out of the way. Lips pulled into a fine line, you felt the energy and the particles align as if the force itself was speaking to you, to the Jedi blood coarsing within your pulse. 
A Jedi must not have any attachments. 
A Jedi must put others needs before his own. 
A Jedi must not partake in anger, in fear, or aggression. 
You bowed your head then, a series of guilt appearing at the mere thought of the Jedi code that still no doubt laced upon the king of Bakura’s back. 
In that moment, you hated him for that. 
With anger suddenly reverberating within your veins and a huff along your parted lips, you took the long black cloak from Sora and wrapped it around your shoulders, slipping your arms in each sleeve. Taking the hood within your nimble fingers, you pulled it up and onto your head, concealing what you could in case the halls had been invaded already. 
Turning, you shared one last longing glance with the handmaiden, one who had devoted her young life to being a caretaker as well as your source of company. You nodded solemnly, “I thank you for your service to the royal family.”
At that point far aware of the glassiness in her eyes and the loss that had already been stained upon history, you felt the chokeful dread that had a hold of you at that moment. With so much uncertainty, you turned away, fingers grasping the cloak tightly, and left the room. Chambers that once had been yours, but now never would be again.
The brick-tiled floors of the capital’s hallways were flooded with soldiers of Bakura, the most trusted, all dressed in armor, grey and blue helmets concealing their faces, their identities. A simple nod was sent their way as you turned down the spiraling hallway, feeling as if doom was upon you, a slow march to death though you had been told otherwise. The building shook, the walls quaking with despair as you followed the army up and into the main corridors of the capital, separate from the royal family’s chambers. The brick turned to grey stone, white towering walls made of metal, and the windows were all concealed behind large doors of steal. 
You came upon the war room, the place of perpetual decisions, the place you knew he would be the most protected in the capital’s final moments. Pulse quickening, eyes dazed, you felt it again — the frustration, the immense anger — a type you didn’t realize you could ever feel. With narrowed eyes, your hands released around the cloak and up into the air. Waving in the direction of the doors, the doors flung open, slamming loudly. It was almost as if the force was apologetic, leaning into your feelings. 
Sure enough, as you stepped through the threshold, the king stood near the table, a shield of dark grey armor covering every part of him but his face. A face wrinkled in nothing but despair. Silence overcame the bustle of protectors, and suddenly, you found the eyes of the man at his side. 
There he was as if like a savior. 
The Jedi — one of the greatest, and the very man who happened to be your father’s closest confidant. 
Obi-Wan Kenobi. 
A savior with long hair and pale eyes, dressed in tan tunics of his own, his saber held securely at his waist. 
You hadn’t seen the man since you were a mere child, a man who could’ve very well been an uncle to you and a protector at the headway of your mother’s death only a few years before, and yet he stood there a bewildered look on his face as if he had felt it. Felt your anger from a few rooms away. 
The king faced you, a look of grief evident, and regret as he noticed the betrayal upon yours. He didn’t look away from you as he leaned over and spoke to Obi-Wan. “My dear friend, I ask of you to take my daughter. You haven’t much time as the rebels have just managed to break through the front gates. Time can only be in our favor for so long.” 
As Kenobi moved near you, his palm outstretched, you stood your ground, “No!”
“My sweet daughter—”
You shook your head, that tightened expression refusing to let up, “I will not just abandon my people, abandon you, my king.”
It was as if the look he gave you then was one of disappointment rather than pride. As if he had wished to raise you to be a coward. Jedis, don’t run, you thought. Queens don’t leave.  “Father, please.” 
“Y/N—” 
You interrupted again, “I cannot leave you to die.” 
His face fell, the great and powerful king deflating just at the single look on your face — from his greatest love. Sadness swirled within his irises, and though it could have very well been the very last time you would ever look your father in the face, you couldn’t move. You couldn’t grasp his hand or pull him in for one last embrace. You were far too stubborn. Far too angry, then. 
He stepped closer, but you only took a step back because this was a fight you wouldn’t be able to win as time was wading by each moment; it wasn’t something that was in your favor then. He sighed, “I can’t fail you too, my child. I failed your mother, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I lost you too.” 
Your mouth parted, a single tear falling from your cold steel eyes, just as a burst of static filled your ears. The com-system interlocked upon Kenobi’s waist began to illuminate, and loudly, drowning out everything else as a voice propelled through. 
“Master! They are invading. I repeat they are beginning to storm the capital. I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to hold them off.” 
His padawan. 
Obi-Wan, held the side button of the com and lifted it to his face, unable to look away from the sad parting between father and daughter, “Hold your ground, my strong padawan. We’ll be to you in just a few short minutes.” 
As he clipped the com back into place he cleared his throat, “We must go. Time is falling away from our side. Princess…” 
“Father, don’t do this.” It was your final plea.
There was nothing left to say. 
His eyes tore away from yours, and you felt a small part of yourself break then and wither away beneath the confines of your walls. The emotion was gone from his face, weakness shoved away where you could no longer see it. He waved off some of the nearby soldiers to get into position — to be able to escort you and Obi safely to the main entrance. 
A small whimper fell from your parted lips as he looked then at Obi. “You must go now!” 
Obi nodded but hesitated, feet stopping after a few short steps. He turned, peering over his shoulder to share one last final look with the former Jedi. 
“I commend you, my dear friend,” your father wished farewell, his hand lifting up near his face and down as if in a form of respect, “May the force be with you.” 
“And you, my king,” he returned, before approaching you with fast steps, his hand taking a hold of your forearm firmly. 
“No, no, please,” you cried out, trying to fight Obi-Wan as he began to pull you from the room. You tried as the fleeting image of your father across the room is all you would have in departing, his glare somehow hard and cold, “Father!” 
The doors slammed shut in your face, echoing like a final coo of death. You collapsed in the Jedi’s arms, all exertion and passion gone from the confines of your chest. Nothing would remain. 
Peering up, slumped against his figure, the halls were bathed in darkness. The electricity had been cut, yet the alarms remained, loudly echoing, screaming in agony while the light the dark red reflected across your skin — somehow matching the anger and rage that pulsed within your body. A sense of resentment for the king, for this Jedi who pulled you through the halls, leading you away from your death, from your planet, from your former life. 
Bakura was destined to burn that night, to fall, to whither into ashes, and yet its future queen would not. All that remained was anger, frustration, and resentment.
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chalkscene · 5 months
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lovebrush chronicles ⇢ “I CAN HOLD THE WORLD IN MY HANDS”
how they react to you saying you can hold the world in your hands then gently cupping their face
ft. ayn alwyn, alkaid mcgrath, lars rorschach & clarence clayden
note: reader’s cat’s name in alkaid’s drabble is set to beans which i named my mc’s cat because i forgot what the default name was djsjdjsja
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just as you expected, you find AYN in the music room, practicing his piece for an upcoming school program. careful not to make any noise, you tread lightly to where he’s sat, slowly sliding into the already little space next to him on the piano bench. without pausing his hands above the keys, ayn scoots over to give you more room. soon he’s playing the last key of the composition and the moment the sound fades into silence, he lets out a frustrated sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. unable to find the right words that would seem helpful, you simply lift a hand to brush his locks, straightening a few flyaways and fixing his bangs before you cradle his face in your palms in comfort. for a moment, you wordlessly stare at ayn, taking in his stunning visage, and he doesn’t miss the abrupt quiet. “what is it?” he asks to which you answer playfully, “nothing. just holding the world in my hands.” the smallest of smiles adorns ayn’s features in an instant but not without a subtle eye roll. still, his crimson eyes turn into rubies as a gleam of affection flickers in his gaze. “you’re distracting me,” he replies in jest. you let go of him as you jokingly put your hands up in mock surrender, “please don’t call your bodyguards on me.” that coaxes a chuckle out of ayn, “tempting.” soon, you feel his arm snake around your waist as he pulls you closer and when you don’t inch away from him, he resumes his practice.
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you and ALKAID are sat side by side on the couch as you watch beans and sparkles roughhousing in the middle of your living room. you don’t notice how much time has passed but it feels like the silence has gone for too long when you speak. “you’re an astronomy major,” you tell alkaid. “yes,” he confirms earnestly as if the information wasn’t already glaringly obvious. “can you hold the world in your hands?” you ask him quizzically. alkaid is clearly caught off guard by your odd question so without waiting for a response you know you’re not getting, you raise your hands and gently cup his cheeks, “i can.” alkaid gives you no response and you begin to think he’s put off by the cheesy gesture until a smile stretches across his face and he finally speaks. “so you’re saying i’m about…” he pauses briefly as he tries to recall a fact, “12,756 kilometers big.” there’s a hint of amusement in alkaid’s expression as he relays the information to you but you only knit your eyebrows in confusion so he continues with a sheepish grin, “that’s the size of the earth.” “of course.” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his sense of humor but you also find it incredibly endearing that you don’t bother to stifle the giggle that bubbles past your lips. alkaid laughs at your reaction, “what?” “only an astronomy major would say that.”
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LARS invited you to spend the day with him at work—“i’m feeling lonely,” he said over the phone, the pout on his voice very audible on your end of the line that you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. so here you both are, tangled up in each other’s embrace since the moment lars joined you on the couch in his office sometime during the afternoon. under the orange rays of the sunset passing through the glass walls of the room, his blue eyes shine more brightly than they already do and his blonde hair have turned golden. he looks ethereal like this. “something on my face?” his voice snaps you out of your reverie, smugness painted all over his visage. you realize he can tell you’ve been staring. earlier in the relationship, it would’ve flustered the hell out of you but now you simply mirror the expression on his face as you gently hold it in your palms and you’re immediately filled with pride when his breath hitches at your affection. “nothing,” you say with faux indifference, “just checking if i can hold the world in my hands.” lars’ ever so familiar cockiness dissolves from his features, instantly replaced by a loving look in his eyes, “well?” “i guess i can,” you murmur. the deep rumble of lars’ chuckle soon hits your ears then he’s pulling you close as a teasing smirk stretches across his face once more, “you are so in love with me.” and you don’t deny it. you lean further onto his chest as he tightens his hold on your body. against your cheek, you feel his heart pick up the pace and that tells you enough—lars rorschach is undoubtedly just as in love with you.
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“knock knock,” you say as you poke your head through the door to the student council’s office and CLARENCE immediately turns to the sound of your voice. “hi,” you add with a grin that clarence returns—or tries to return rather. despite the softening of his gaze and the air of authority around him vanishing, it’s easy to notice the stress that has dampened his spirits. “hey,” he replies anyway. he invites you to join him at his desk and you gladly do, although carefully perching on the edge of the table. “everything okay, mr. president?” clarence huffs out a chuckle at the nickname before releasing an exasperated sigh. “what’s up?” you ask again and clarence answers this time. as an insignificant member of the student body, you only understand half of his student council worries—one of them being this year’s stellaris cup not having enough participants. “what if i join?” you suggest and clarence can immediately sense the halfheartedness in your tone. “you’d do that?” he asks dubiously, the corner of his lips now quirked up as he prepares to call you out on your bullshit. maybe you are just attempting to cheer him up but it’s the thought that counts. “i would,” you retort as you get on your feet with theatrical confidence, “for my first trick, i will hold the world in my hands.” clarence raises an eyebrow but he doesn’t interrupt so you walk around his desk until you’re standing in front of him. when your hands softly land on his face, he’s quick to understand what you mean and in your grip, he shakes his head in amusement but a subtle blush now dusts his cheeks. “that’s a winning talent if you ask me,” you jest. that earns you a laugh from clarence as he jokingly agrees, “it is.” in the same instance, you feel him lean further into your touch, closing his eyes as he basks in it then he sighs in pleasure.
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Text
Trunk or Treat with the Student Council
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Based Off This Post About These OCs and a continuation from yesterday Happy Halloween to those who celebrate 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
The muffled sounds of the cheering student body and the themed music filled the small room. It was a small place with no windows, a single door, and walls as small as a public cubicle. It was an uncomfortable comparison but you were feeling just that. Shoved by none other than the pushy June you were put in a padded chair dressed to look like a golden throne adorned with jewels and pearls. 
You guessed it did match your costume. With a wine-red top that stopped just below your ribs and a matching pair of exercise shorts. Both were covered with fake golden chains or you at least you hoped they were fake. They were a little heavy on your chest but it was minor compared to the weight on your head. Per your dragon-ghost character you were given horns also adorned with golden chains and various necklaces. 
Surely it made it easier to shove you around when your attention was on not simply crumpling to the ground. It came as a surprise to you considering this was the first time you were officially allowed to wear it, let alone see the finished product.Not too long after Gill ushered you into the dark underground of the stage, June was waiting there rattling incessantly about something you could barely follow. He must have meant for it to be that way because without getting a word in edge-wise he pushed you into this chair. 
“Here you are! For your own safety you probably shouldn’t get up anymore so I’m just going to–”
CLICK
“There you are we’ll see you later! So stay put, puddin’!” 
“June w-w-wait–”
No time at all the door was shut and you were practically enveloped in darkness. Other than a small hole of light bleeding in from the outside you had nothing but your thoughts. Instead straining to hear what you could from outside. 
“---kingdom with our lovely and dead King!”
The cacophony of an adoring kingdom rang out.
“---followed by our powerful queen–”
A roar of applause.
“--ruling alongside our ghouly duke and duchess.”
Some whistles this time.
“--our oh so talented dungeon master–”
Were those toy-clackers?
“--And me your lovely lovely advisor.”
Another bout of adoring praise. 
“My outspoken advisor of the dead–”
You recognized that as Lucoa. The crowd sounded dead silent.
“--you’ve done well to introduce our court but you seemed to have forgotten the most proud and prided treasure of our ghostly court.”
“My King you’re correct as you are always. And on this day, the one day of this year that our court allows the common ghosts to behold our grandest wealth.”
The ground beneath you began to lightly move upward. Suddenly the sweat accumulated from the stuffy room turned cold as a glaze of self-consciousness came over you. Nonetheless, you ascended as a triumphant theme began to play. As the roof opened up you shut your eyes at the brightness of orange lighting. 
“Here’s our lovely, show-stopping, stunning, all-commanding, all-demanding ghostly dragon!!!”
Looking at the crowd was the first thing you did, nervously searching for any sign of disapproval finding that it was very difficult with all the lighting directed at you. You instead looked around yourself to find yourself surrounded by an abundance of fake piles of gold on a painted foam castle. 
Just beyond your elevated stature, you looked to the sides of the stage to see the members of the student council. Each stands in front of their settings–the ones you worked to paint and create before, illuminated by single spotlights. They all looked at you as Lucoa went to speak.
“Now our ghostly people, don’t be afraid! For our beloved kings and leaders of our ghostly kingdom will tame them!”
With a stronger spotlight on him, Lucoa made his way toward your tower. Calmly climbing a set of stairs that led up to your place. The crowd began to whistle and holler in a hushed tone; no doubt whispering of the illusive Council President making his way to you.
His blue hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, flaring out under the crown he had on. Along with the red and gold of a typical king costume, there was a transparent golden veil draped over his face. Matching the golden shackle binds on his wrists and ankles clink with broken golden chains. 
As he got closer you could make out the smile on his face grow as he came closer to you. The typical silver piercing on his lip was replaced by a gold one. The same could be said for his ear cuff.
“I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to dress up in something gold.”
“Really? Is that all I wanted?” 
The teasing tone of his had you rolling your eyes. Despite being so far away from the crowd you both kept your conversation to a whisper. 
“Seems like it. That and humiliating me.”
He trailed his hands along your arm, doing it lightly and quick enough to be written off by you. Resting his hand on your shoulder he brought his hands to the hanging golden bangles on your horns, pulling them over your shoulder as he lay it over and around your back. Bending down he whispered into your ear. 
“I’d prefer we call it, showing you off.”
You turned your head to ask him more but were stopped by his hands squeezing your cheeks. Forcefully turning your head back to the crowd he kept his grip on your cheeks firm as he signals Roman with a look.
“The King is the expert at taming them but as your beloved Council we will do everything together!”
Wanting to ask what he was talking about you tried to move your mouth, finding he was refusing to let your jaw open let alone turn your head as you heard the other members of the Student Council come up to your platform. 
“Ugh even if it’s not a real dress; the transparent veil over the harem pants is too much for me!”
“Awww don’t be such a sourpuss, Spencer! Once you get in one you’ll never want to go back~!”
“So you’ve said.” 
“June looks lovely in dresses.”
“Of course, you’d say that Gill.”
“I bet (Y/n) would too.”
“I-I-I say it’s a missed chance then.”
June was the first to approach skipping over to you, smiling smugly in your face. He hopped onto your lap laying his legs across both of yours, nuzzling into your chest. Keeping eye contact with you he traced his fingers along the skin he could reach from beneath the golden features of your costumes. You tried to squirm away from his touch, stopping when the hands on your jaw forced you to look up. 
A single look was all you needed before you stopped your attempts. Annoyed with your attention being changed, June slipped his hand under the golden accessories around your chest, playing with the hem of the red crop top you fought to wear underneath. Any normal person would have doubts that anything was there at all but for someone whose boyfriend drew the designs himself—it was an easy target. 
“Probably but I’m in no way disappointed with this at all.”
Feeling the cold touch of lips touching your left hand, you turned your attention–the best you could–to Gill who had stationed himself there. Kneeling on the side of your chair he gingerly held your hand occasionally kissing it tenderly. Subtly trying to pull your arm away wasn’t working as June got more daring and Gill refused to release your hand.
“I am glad. I too thought this would be more desirable. Especially with June already in a dress.”
“Aw you tease~”
“O-o-oh don’t m-misunderstand,” Min spoke up. Dressed in some arbitrarily skimpy dungeon master costume he came close kneeling in front of you. “I-i-i-i’m very happy with the accessibility in this design.”
His hands were smaller, very nimble, and oh so cold. You couldn’t help the involuntary hitch in your throat as he held your leg letting his fingers get to the underside of your thigh. Feeling the vibrations of laughter Lucoa’s voice made your cheeks burn. 
“Sensitive, huh?”
Looking away from him the best you could, you gauged the others' reactions. Gill and June shot Min a glare, whereas the man in question was blushing intensely. The treasurer let his hand lightly squeeze at the meat of your thigh letting out a noise when you bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything more. With an apologetic look, he moved himself down gingerly caressing your ankle as he eyed the closed-toed sandals you chose. 
“I think…m-m-maybe next time we’ll have you wear something m-more open! B-b-but this is a gift nonetheless. ”
Placing a passionate kiss on your ankle instead, he kept his hands on your leg, occasionally rubbing his reddened cheek against your knee. If that wasn’t enough June was getting annoyed changing his focus to the hem of your shorts. Smiling at you when you sent a look of warning. Taking your mind off it, Spencer came to your side lightly bending down as he offered a hopeful smile. 
“Well if it’s worth anything…you are the prettiest ghost dragon I’ve ever seen.”
You sent him a thankful look and opened your hand when he politely prodded with his fingers. Opening your hand, you let him clutch your hand intertwining his fingers with yours as he leaned against the chair. His happy smile was enough to distract you as the final member of the student council trudged up. 
“And finally folks your dearest advisor will properly finish taming this beast!” 
He turns to cutely wink at you, giving a final address to the audience who were still whispering amongst each other. 
“Finally a final call from our be-loved King!”
Still holding the microphone Roman turned to you. He moved to sit on your lap, curling a lip in disgust when he saw June’s legs across the other leg. June mockingly smiled at him, expecting him to sit beside Min who was happily on the floor. Roman shot him a look and shoved his legs off, causing June to lightly yelp while he repositioned himself on his half of your lap. 
Not even flinching at Gill’s glare he leaned his head on your unoccupied shoulder as he held the microphone up for Lucoa. 
“I encourage all of you to look this Halloween but don’t touch.”
At that, Roman tucked away the microphone playing with the the gold around your chest. The audience on the other hand let out a mighty roar. A ghoulish obsessive yowl that was only illuminated by the constant flashes of high-grade cameras and cell phone video. 
No one name could be pinpointed that the crowd was calling for. 
But among those names were a few familiar syllables that had you questioning. 
But what remained clear was the power and confidence of the Student Council. 
To have you on a stage for all to see. 
Now that…was creepy.
213 notes · View notes