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senanatheskenana · 5 months

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Sorry if this is weird but I haven't seen anything like this before but could you maybe do some sort of headcanon for genshin characters with a s/o that had a cryptic pregnancy. Like they leave for one day or come home after a couple hours and s/o is just like "yeah I didn't know" while holding a newborn. Again sorry if it's weird

Sure, this sounds super interesting! Also sorry if this took a while i haven't been as active recently but ill try to get more into the fandom soon <3

(Ill only be doing the male character since the nature of this would be a little hard to plan out for the female characters, hope that's ok)

Genshin Men Reacting to Cryptic Pregnancies

Kaeya

Kaeya looks at you like you're crazy. He legitimately believes that you've just picked up some newborn orphan to baby-trap him without getting pregnant.

Well, at least that's what he believed until he saw what the tiny child looked like up close.

There was no room to deny that the child looked strikingly similar to him; dark blue hair and tan skin. The only difference between them was that this tiny baby had your eyes.

And as his tiny fingers grab the air in front of Kaeya, he becomes increasingly aware of what has happened.

You were pregnant for nine months. You gave birth.

And he wasn't even there when you did- he was drinking like his social life depended on it at the tavern.

"I'm a terrible husband," he laughs, incredulous of himself.

He couldn't turn such a child away, even if he wanted no children. It would be obvious who had fathered one of the two blue-haired people in Mondstadt.

Diluc

Diluc is at a loss for words.

He doesn't doubt you, he's known you so deeply that he can see in your eyes and in your body that you've been through something.

So when you hold the tiny infant out towards him, he carefully takes her into his arms as if she were a treasure so valuable he could not bear the idea of tarnishing it.

He presses her warmly against his chest and looks at you in such a way that you know he is not at all upset with you. In fact, he then looks away and places a triad of light pecks on her short red hair.

"I wish i had known" he says ruefully- and for a moment your heart sinks as though you think he was disappointed in such an outcome.

"If i had known sooner, we could have prepared a nursery"

Venti

Venti isn't quite sure whether he wants to run away from you or towards you.

It wasn't that he didn't like you anymore, or that he didn't want children.

He simply worried that he would not be a good parent, staying late into the night in bars playing music and over-drinking. He could see those days flying away from him in the eyes of the child.

But still, he could not harbour resentment for such a young, uncomprehending thing. Something that depended on him so greatly- far greater than any normal mortal had ever depended on him as an archon.

No, to him this was special.

He thought about it. Yes, his days of drinking every day were behind him. But something new would soon replace them. He traded wine for a son who loved him like no other would.

Venti surely had never planned on this, had he known you were pregnant he would have tried harder to break his ugly habit of day drinking.

But what is done is done, he thinks.

Now he just had to raise a child. How hard could it be?

Albedo

He sums it up as a curiosity, rather than sentimentality. He admits that yes he loves you, but this thing, surely he was only keeping it alive- feeding it, burping it, changing it- to satiate his curiosity of how it came to be in the first place.

Firstly, he was under the impression that he was infertile, let alone thinking you were pregnant. It simply wasn't something he accounted for.

But you see it differently to him. You can see that what Albedo is denying as intrigue was really paternal love. You weren't quite sure whether he was trying to deny it, to keep the child at arm's length, or whether he was just dense. That wasn't something anyone had really associated with Albedo.

He supposes that, in a way, the baby was rather cute. It abstained from taking on many of his attributes, which he found himself thankful for. If he was honest, the baby was more similar to you in appearance. The only thing he theorised may be a piece of him showing was the fact that the child seemingly could not take their eyes off of their surroundings.

Its a gradually thing, a feeling that develops over weeks of caring for it. What started out as wonder at how it happened slowly melded into the realisation that he no longer cared, and the point was that it did happen, and he was content with that answer for once.

Xiao

Xiao very nearly drops off the earth after you show him the child. It could not be his- or yours- he's sure he would have been able to sense the pregnancy if you were.

The weeks after are filled with worry and Xiao's absence. He sits atop the roof of Wangshu Inn, looking out at the city in the distance, wondering if you and, by extension, 'your' child is still there.

He's desperate to take another glance, to put his guilt to bed, to prove to himself that the child could not be his. He's also terrified it could prove the opposite, leaving Xiao in more guilt than before and with more responsibilities.

Xiao may have never seen you again had it not been for Zhongl's insistence that he appear to him. With you sat beside him.

At first glance, he comes to realise that it is undeniable that the child is his. He could feel it, stronger than any feeling he had ever felt before. He felt his heart clench painfully inside of his chest as though it were crying for the moments they had wasted.

But he still can't bring himself to touch his child, too afraid to stain it with his sins.

He cries against you that night, sobbing apologies into your shoulder and muttering promises to his son.

Tartaglia

Bro straight up does not even question it. He's heard of such things before and he's so sure and secure in your relationship that the idea that it isn't his or yours doesn't even cross his mind.

If he's honest, its obviously his. The ginger hair was a big hint.

Ajax is honestly incredibly happy- he's always wanted a family of his own and he feels as if this was a gift from the archons. A child that no one outside of him and you know exists yet. He's aware of how good a position that is given how high his place in the fatui is.

He cannot resist telling his family, asking them to keep if close to their chest for the baby's sake.

He didn't get the chance to look after you during the pregnancy, so he's making up for it now. He won't let you do anything in the first few months.

"Stay here gorgeous, I'll feed her!", "You worked so hard you deserve an hour where you aren't looking after our child", and "I just found the CUTEST little outfit in the boutique- look!" are all common things to hear now.

He hasn't brought it up yet, but he really, really wants another one. One that he can help you with during the pregnancy and anticipate.

Zhongli

I feel as though there is no way for you to be pregnant and have him not know at some point.

In fact, he tries to hint it to you in the beginning and later outright asks you if you're pregnant. When you deny it, he's astoundingly patient, waiting for you to realise it yourself.

He understands that it must be absurd to hear that you were pregnant when you have no symptoms of it.

So he makes it a point to always be close by, or to have someone (usually Xiao) keep an eye on you.

It's just an average walk through Liyue Harbour when you drop to the floor and groan in pain. Your husband is immediately there to steady you, offering his strong hand for you to crush.

People gather around you both in concern, encircling you like you were some spectacle. Zhongli tells them to step away, and as people start to realise the gravity a green-haired doctor slips past the crowd.

You give birth in the street, never realising you were pregnant before leaving the house.

Kaedehara Kazuha

Kazuha has always been fairly good at going with the flow and this was no exception.

If he was honest, he knows that even if it wasn't related to you both, and you just picked it up off the street he would never refuse it.

He does his best to accept things and help you with things after, to make sure you heal well.

He's never cared for a child, let alone his own but he's willing to try his best in doing so.

And he's an outrageously good father given he had no time to prepare.

He fashions a baby bed on the crux, sleeping with the baby on his chest every night before finishing it.

It's you who finds out that your child will only sleep when sung to, after Kazuha has been doing so for the first few weeks.

Kazuha hadn't expected this but he has to admit that having a child has made him feel at home in every place as long as it is with you.

Thoma

Immediately Thoma panics. Though not for the reason you expect.

"Now I have to give short notice when asking for paternity leave"

Of course, he doesn't make it your fault, he's aware it's half of both of you.

When the Kamisato siblings find out, Ayaka is extremely excited. Thoma is given paid paternity leave, and Ayaka gets to coo at your tiny baby, marvelling at how it managed to occur.

Thoma is a wonderful father and he always volunteers to get up in the night for feeds and changes.

Fatherhood suits him well <3

He may have one moment of apprehension about the pregnancy, briefly questioning whether you had really given birth.

Before he reigns himself back in and realises that he knows you would never do something like that.

Arrataki Itto

Cue five minutes of pure silence while he tries to understand what you just said <3.

Bro didn't even know that was possible, like no way.

But at the same time, he understands that you wouldn't joke about this sort of thing. Plus the baby has horns just like her father.

He's in a state of shock for a few hours, a dumb expression painted on as he sits down cradling the baby oni.

And then finally he responds.

"Wait so this is like mine? I have to keep it and like look after it and stuff?"

Gorou

Gorou could smell something different with you from the beginning but with nothing to go on he didn't press it.

And at some point he just stopped noticing it, there was no reason to assume when he saw no real change in your behaviour.

Until he sees two resistance members charging towards him and beckoning him to follow them as they run off once more.

And that's when he finds you, sat low against the wall of a hut, sweaty and tearstained.

And then he hones in on the babe tucked between your arms and chest.

And then the guilt hits him. He could have known this might be the case, surely he should have made you leave just until he was sure of the outcome.

"I- I forced you into battle... And-and you were pregnant."

Kamisato Ayato

Ayato is very sure that you would never lie to him but he knows that the circumstances will be suspicious to many and that those who doubt may spread rumours given your unmarried status.

He loves you and he'd sooner die than have people spread vicious lies about you like you were some harlot.

But he really can't bear the idea of giving up your son.

So he bites the bullet and he, you, and Ayaka make a public appearance when you both introduce your child and the godmother, Ayaka <3.

People talked about you both but he couldn't care less when he had something so beautiful to look forward to now.

Tighnari

Tighnari is also there to watch you suddenly give birth. However he remains calm, easing your pain with herbs and scents.

He kisses your forehead and squeezes your hand to reassure you of how well you're doing.

He has never had experience with one in person but he knows of them, and he takes the subsequent weeks observing you and the baby, all while caring for you both.

He hadn't expected a child so soon but he had desire for a whole family someday so he took it in stride.

He takes great pleasure telling Collei, knowing how excited she would be.

Cyno

Cyno feels his whole heart thump when he comes home from a week of work away from you to see you in a chair, rocking a baby back and forth.

"Are you babysitting for a friend, sweetheart?"

You jump as if you didn't hear him enter and then relax when your eyes find him in the doorway.

"Not quite," you murmur as you play with the baby's tiny hand/

He grows curious and gingerly steps closer until he is beside you, looking down at the child.

He'd recognise that hair anywhere. And those eyes.

He felt as though he was looking back at himself from his past.

Instinctively he reaches out to gently caress the small face that peers up at him.

And then he looks back at you as if asking for an explanation. How did this happen? Surely, he would have realised you were pregnant.

Scaramouche

No. He's unwilling to even entertain the idea that you were pregnant with his child, to begin with. He was sure he was infertile. there was no way this thing was his.

And its that simple to him, you think. He leaves and you never meet again.

What you don't know is that Scaramouche, now Wanderer, is none the wiser to your existence, and the child you share.

Sorry, that's quite a sombre ending. I would like to mention that with Scara, he would ultimately return to you if he knew you <3

#xreader #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #genshin impact xiao #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader

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iamsherlocked1479 · 1 year

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Admit it

Word count: 1.9k words

Description: Sherlock believes that lingerie is pointless so y/n decides to prove him wrong, no matter the costs.

Warnings: 18+, very angsty, BJ, P in V sex, choking, slut shame

A/N: this is my apology for not posting as much hope you like it! But chapter 11 is about halfway done atm.

“I don’t get it!” Sherlock shouted at the television screen, jolting you awake with his movement, you had fallen asleep on him again, which of course he didn’t have a problem with.

“W-what now?” You ask dazed from your sleep

“These adverts look at those women.” He pointed to the ad you had seen thousands of times for a designer company showing off their new lingerie.

“Its just an ad?” You say confused, this is your punishment for letting him get to intrigued in the reality tv shows you watch, his attempt of proving he could be a normal boyfriend.

“Yes but I don’t get why lingerie is so amazing.” He turned to you

“Because its a way to feel pretty, seductive almost.” You laugh

“But you don’t need lingerie to look beautiful.” He added

“You know you should use that line more often.” You laugh

“I really don’t understand society.” He sighed and turned his head back to the screen.

“So you wouldn’t care if i wore something like that?” You ask

“I prefer you in nothing, we both know that.” He squeezed your thigh

“No but its meant to make their partners want them more. A treat i would say.” You thought how you ended up explaining the use of lingerie to your boyfriend who was very much experienced by now in the arts of physical relationships with you.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does.” You laugh “its like when you wear that purple shirt that’s slightly too tight for you” you smirk as his brow raises

“That actually explains a lot.”

“Never mind the show is back on.” You point to the screen

“You’re just going to fall asleep again.” He smiled

“Would that be a problem?” You ask

“Never.” He added, and as usual he was right. You woke up the next morning in you shared bed trying to work out how you’d gotten there but then remembered your conversation from last night, maybe he would like it if you wore lingerie. You hadn’t exactly tried that before, you knew he was probably out on a case so you got dressed with your mission clear. Finding the perfect lingerie to seduce the great Sherlock Holmes, who also happened to be the man who never had physical relationships with anyone, in a physical relationship with you.

You started out with a few common clothing shops with nothing really taking your fancy so you decided it would be better to look in the expensive shops, like the one from the advert. You browse the isles being amazed by the different styles and colours in all shapes and sizes before finally seeing the perfect set.

On a mannequin in front of you was a purple laced bra and panties set. It was almost the same colour as his shirt so you knew it would be perfect, the bra was lace and obviously see through and the panties would fit your figure just right.

It was early evening by the time you got home, and Sherlock’s violin could be heard throughout the apartment. He smiled when he saw you, but didn’t stop playing. It was obvious whatever case he was on was really toying with his mind mind.

“I’m just gonna take a shower.” You yelled not expecting a reply, it was time to put your plan into action. You showered and washed your hair, whilst also performing for the various bottles of shampoo that probably wished they didn’t need to hear the same verse from careless whisper three times over. You towel dry your hair enough so it wouldn’t be dripping wet, without getting too frizzy the next day and slipped on the lingerie. And god it was perfect, there was no way in hell even Sherlock holmes could deny you didn’t look good, you weren't one for loving yourself too much but this made it difficult.

You left the bathroom wearing only the lingerie and Sherlock was still playing, but upon hearing you enter the room he began playing a careless whisper mocking your singing.

“Was I really being that loud?” You laugh

“I’ve heard worse.” He still hadn’t turned around, dam his stupid mind palace.

“So what case are you stuck on?” You ask moving to the kitchen and ignoring the severed human limbs to make tea.

“A soldier was murdered, found dead in the shower, no way in, no way out and no signs of a struggle. Just dead, it appears as if a ghost killed him.” He still hadn’t turned around, god he was arrogant sometimes.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” You ask

“Yes and is there any biscu-.” He stopped and finally laid his eyes on you. Your back was to him, your ass clearly showing.

“Everything okay back there?” You smirk

“W-what are you wearing?” He asked, you could have swore you heard a gulp.

“Oh this little thing? I picked it up today. What do you think?” You tapped the tea spoon on the cup and turned around, he watched your every move as you entered the living room. You place the tea on the table and walk over to him, now he was intrigued. It was time to play your game. “Sit please” you push him back into his chair and he falls back with a huff his eyes scanning every part of your body.

“I- I think its n-nice.” He watched as you teased him moving your hips as you turned around allowing him to look at everything.

“But you see I’m not sure about it, could you have a closer look?” You step towards him, and place yourself in his lap straddling his legs, with your chest in his face, his hands slid up your legs towards your hips, but you pushed them away. “Ah ah, remember I thought you didn’t see the point in clothes like this. In my opinion i’d say they’re pretty effective.” You could feel him twitching beneath you,

“Maybe they are helping a tad bit.” He shuffled in his seat trying his best to do as you said but he wasn’t going to admit you were right.

“Pitty, I thought they were working.” You began circulating your hips, grinding yourself against his growing length, letting out small moans of pleasure. You watched as he gripped the arms of his chair tightly at the sensation of you rubbing against him. You moved your hands to his chest and unbuttoned his shirt. His fingers moved closer to you tracing along your leg, but you stopped your movements and tutted. “Admit I was right and maybe I’ll let you touch.”

He grunted frustratedly he wasn’t one for admitting he was wrong, but here you sat in his lap grinding against him and he couldn’t even kiss you. “Shit” he sighed “fine you were right” you smiled at your win and pushed your lips against his and began moving faster.

“I can’t help myself around you, fuck baby.” He trailed his lips along your neck going in between the crevice of your breast with his tongue, he pulled down the straps of your bra and pulled your tits free. He took one into his mouth, nibbling the nipple slightly while gripping the other with his hand.

You gripped his hair pushing him further into your chest letting out more moans edging him on. You pushed your soaked cunt harder on him, making his cock rub against your clit beginning to causing the knot in your stomach to grow tighter, growing closer to your release. He purred into your chest as your wetness soaked through his trousers, which grew ever tighter with your work. You couldn’t hold it back any longer your hips jolted as you came,

“Oh fuck Sherlock yes, fuck you’re so hard its s-so good.”

“Mmm fuck i can’t wait any longer.” He stood up and carried you through the hall towards your bedroom, his lips still locked to yours as he kicked the door open and carried you to the bed. He dropped you there watching as you knelt below him, wiping the hair stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“Want your cock, baby, I need it.” You whimpered as you unbuckled his belt. You pulled down his boxers and watched as he moaned as you licked a stripe down his length before gently sucking on his balls as your hand pumped him slowly. His head knocked back with a sigh of relief as you reached his tip again, and slowly began bobbing your head down over it, working your tongue around him before sinking down a little farther. You tried your best to swallow around him he helped by pushing himself in gently letting out deep moans the further you got. His hip’s jolted again as you pulled back and worked on the tip again, he was becoming too sensitive and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. He pushed your mouth away and brought you to his gently gripping your throat.

“Don't think I forgot you wouldn’t let me touch you, I won’t let that go unnoticed. I’m going to make sure you can’t walk for a week.” He pushed you onto the bed and positioned his frame over you, he practically ripped off the panties and entered with a hard thrust causing you to yelp and grip to the bed sheets. He pushed hard into you the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room accompanied by your moans, you clawed at his back as he fucked you

“Look at you so cock drunk, you think you can parade yourself around like a little slut in my apartment and get away with it. Do you?” He asked

“N-no.” You whimpered, leaning your head back as your back arched

“No what?” He grabbed your chin making your eyes level with his dark blues

“N-no sir.”

“Good.” He flipped you over and knelt over you, slowing his pace, taking more time to push harder into you. “Now say you’re sorry.” He slapped your ass, hard smiling as a pink gleam appeared

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered

“Good girl, now we can enjoy this.” He sped up his pace and placed one hand under you, his thumb rubbing your already swollen clit. The pulse of you clit sent waves through you as you squirmed, he fucked you hard through your orgasm

“Oh fuck, sherlock just there, thats right!” Your voice was muffled as you buried yourself in the sheets pulling them from the corners.

Sherlock groaned, he loved the sight of you being this way around him, so cock drunk you couldn’t even hold yourself up. He too was reaching his end the way your pussy clenched around his cock was enough to set him off, spewing thick white ropes deep inside of you and collapsing onto you.

He took a moment to cat his breath, his cock still inside you before pulling himself off the bed,

“Looks like you need another shower.” He held out his hand as you turned and sprawled onto the bed

“I can’t, too tired.” You say breathlessly

“I told you you wouldn’t be able to walk.” He smiled while wiping the hair stuck to your forehead.

“Hmm” you groaned as your eyes fell closed. Sherlock fixed the sheets around you before wrapping your body in a cover and allowing you to sleep. He showered before going back to his violin, this time thinking only of you. Though he would never tell you, maybe just this once you were right.

#bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock holmes x reader #benedict cumberbatch x female!reader #sherlock x reader #sherlock smut #smutty #sherlock bbc #y/n x sherlock #i am sherlocked #sherlockedit #spotify

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adamsmasher · 4 months

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Okay it's after 1am and I've had a lot of wine so obviously it's time for a late night wall-of-text post, but this time it's less likely to piss off your weird uncle or whatever because once again, I gotta talk about the best $4.99 a month I've ever spent.

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youtube

#dropout.tv #umm actually #dimension 20 #make some noise #game changer #brennan lee mulligan #aabria iyengar #for a late night wine-fueled rant on a broken keyboard i think this went well #actually i feel so guilty about my CR dig because i loved Exandria Calamity so much so please dont yell at me #also google said quiddie is exactly 6 feet i hope i did her justice

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starrdevereauxx · 23 days

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The Session

By Starr Devereauxx

Being a photographer in Los Angeles has truly been quite the ordeal. I love the freedom of it, but everyone thinks they are a star in this city. I love what I do. The creativity of it. Makes my heart truly smile. There are some mornings that I just get up with my camera and take pictures on my morning walk. It’s a calming feeling just being one with nature, camera in hand.

This morning I woke up refreshed and somewhat nervous for today’s client. I’ve worked with him before but since we have been following each other on social media and making a connection creatively, I find myself becoming more interested and intrigued with him. I met him at a vendor’s booth at a local festival 2 years ago and we have been working together ever since. He called because he wanted to take some new pictures for an upcoming business expo and he wanted to mix up his photos since he’s the keynote speaker this year. Of course I jumped at the chance to be there for him, this is a big moment for him and I’m glad to be apart of the creative process for him.

We scheduled for a Saturday morning, the weather was planned to be great that day and that made for good lighting. I was following his lead on location for the shoot. He picked an open field, not too far from my home actually. I almost felt this was weird, because I thought he would want to use a cityscape since it was for a business type event. But this was he vision and I didn’t want to take away from where he saw it going.

I arrived and he was standing there waiting on me. I think I should have worn something a little more comfortable, I almost feel like I’m about to get dirty wearing this. But what the hell, it’s all business.

“Hey Zeke! Bright and early I see” I said to him gingerly.

“Yeah mamas, early bird catches the worm. You know how I am Dev.” He said almost suggestively.

I’ve grown to know Zeke pretty well, and that’s a man that doesn’t play about his business, so yeah, I know how he is in that sense.

“So my idea is to go to the top of this hill and catch all the scenery in the back, just me against the world so to speak.. you get it Dev?” Zeke smiled.

“I sure do, I see it perfectly. But are we supposed to hike up there? I should have worn better shoes. I wish I would have known, I would have brought help for my gear” I said nervously.

“I’m all the help you need, I got you” Zeke looked at me and assured me. I almost took it the wrong way, but I knew he couldn’t possibly be talking to me that way. Something about when Zeke talks to me, I take him super seriously. He just doesn’t play about his shit. I admire that. If I didn’t watch it, I could easily develop a crush. But I never mix business and pleasure. Although it wouldn’t be hard to mix those two together with Zeke. He is the epitome of fine.

Zeke is 6’3, caramel complexion, beautiful black hair with the most luxuriously sexy thick beard adorned on his his face surrounding the most beautiful succulent lips you ever seen. Behind those lips, the most beautiful smile a man could ever have. If you were awesome enough, he might show it to you. Zeke didn’t smile a lot, but he always smiled around me. I took it as a compliment honestly. Zeke stayed in the gym, so his body.. chef’s fucking kiss. He never skipped leg day, shit any day. He looked amazing. But I’ve barely looked at him right? Who am I kidding? I didn’t even wear panties today, that’s how wet he makes me every time I see him. Let me stay focused so I can go home.

Zeke and I began our trek up the hill. Talking and shooting the breeze the whole way up. I’m doing my best not to die on the way up. I’m not a small woman, and I’m carrying all this equipment, trying to talk at the same time is pulling a miracle.

We make it to the top. He’s super excited to get started. I start to put my camera together and I immediately start shooting. He’s posing and doing a great job, I never seen him this into it. This isn’t our first time shooting, but he’s serving it up today. Wonder what’s gotten into him today?

We are sharing stories from our week during the shoot so there’s no uncomfortable silences while we work. There’s a look in his eyes, almost like he’s looking past the camera and looking directly at me. I’m doing my best to not overthink because if I didn’t know any better, I would think I’m getting a vibe here. But not Zeke, I’m not even his type.. at least I don’t think. I’ve never talked to him on that level. I always keep it professional.

“I have another outfit, let me change” Zeke stops me.

I turn red immediately. Change? Where nigga? There’s no bathroom here. He begins to take his clothes off and let me tell you, he truly misses no days at the gym. He takes off his pants and I don’t know what that family size Pringles can is laying on his left leg is, but he should call a doctor and get that checked. I’m choking from here and I haven’t even gotten on my knees, that’s how big it is.

I swallowed slowly and turned around like I wasn’t staring that whole time. I’m sure he caught me gawking at him like a ravenous beast. But I keep it professional, so he didn’t see me.. right?

“Dev, you ready? You can turn around now” Zeke said softly.

I turn around, but his pants weren’t up yet. Not only were they not up, other items had been removed. He’s ass naked. I stare, mouth agape.

“Zeke, what part of the game is this?” I said with my voice literally shaking.

“I didn’t want to be prepared for this. I want some pictures of me nude. Professional ones, and I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do them. I didn’t want to ask first, so I thought I would just surprise you…. Surprise” he said slowly.

“Well hell yeah, this is truly a surprise, but I don’t mind. I got you. This is art, and that’s all I see this as. You displaying your art. I got this. I got this” I said trying to convince myself that I don’t want his dick in every hole I have. He’s so gorgeous I’d let him fuck my inner ear cavity. So I’m gonna sit here, do my job and lie to myself like I don’t want him to blow my back out.

We begin working again. This time some wind picked up, just my luck because now he’s sporting a giant erection. I can’t ignore this. I’m trying hard, I’m trying as hard as his dick is.. and that’s REALLY hard.

“Can you help me pose for this next part? I wanna make sure I have a good angle.” He said sharply.

POSE HIM!? Touch Zeke while he’s naked! I can’t do this. I’m gonna give him his money back and leave. I can’t do this. If I touch him, I’m gonna most definitely be unprofessional. I don’t wanna lose a client this way.

“Sure” I gulped.

I walked over to him slowly. Slow like a man on death row, because I knew it wasn’t gonna go well when I touched him. At this point I’m not even giving him eye contact anymore. I reach out to touch him to pose him and he quickly grabs my hand and takes my camera out of my hand.

My pulse is fucking racing triple time. I think I’m having a panic attack. Oh no, I fucked up. He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him.

“It’s okay to look at me Dev, I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m just naked. Is that okay? Is my dick being out bothering you?” He said in the most gentle deepest voice possible. His voice felt like a subwoofer booming in my panties. He’s got me so wet, my jeans are finished.

“I.. I just wasn’t prepared for this today Zeke, I just came to take your pictures. It feels like something else is happening here now” I can’t even feel myself breathing.

Zeke looks in my wide innocent looking eyes, and grabs the nape of my neck and pulls me close to him and says “Something else can happen right now if you want, if you don’t want it to, just say the word and I’ll respect your word”

I remained silent.

“Come here” he said as he kissed me and held my face in one hand and my camera in the other hand.

He places my camera on top of my backpack next to him. He takes his other hand and pulls me closer to him. I feel that giant dick pressing against me and grazes my pelvis. I inhale deeply like he put it in me already. My body is starting to feel limp. He’s taking all my energy with every kiss he takes from me. My hands begin to run up and down his chiseled body. He feels amazing all over. How the fuck did we get here? I just came to work. Now I’m in the middle of a field, in the middle of nowhere making out with my naked client.

I begin to kiss all over his neck all over his chest and down his stomach. I can literally see the main vein in his giant member pulsating, literally waiting to make itself a home in my throat. I’m salivating just making my way down. I bow down before him like I’m about to give thanks and gratitude on both of my knees. This head is about to be religious. I’m ready to give my best in this moment.

I part my lips and gently greeting the tip to the warmth of my mouth. Letting his dick get acquainted with my wet face hole. This will be one of the 3 holes he meets today, so I wanted him to feel the difference between the three. Pursing my lips and allowing him to sleep past my opening straight to my uvula. Punching it with each stroke he takes as he simultaneously covers it in precum.

So here I am, in the middle of this feild, being throat fucked to no end. Zeke’s head is tilted all the way back in the air as he moans into the great wide open. My great wide open is becoming wetter as I sit here on my knees, waiting for my holes to be used. He’s gagging me so hard I almost throw up, but my gag reflexes are stronger than his thrusts.

“I’m so fucking close, I’m gonna paint your fucking throat” Zeke screams out as I am sitting here waiting for him to Picasso me with his ejaculation. He strokes harder and harder, saliva is pouring from the sides of my mouth as my tongue licks all over his shaft and tip. He starts to pick up the pace even more, harder and faster until….

My face is covered in cum. Dripping out of my mouth and covering my lips. My throat is coated. I know I must have seriously swallowed a lot because there was more that came out than what’s covering me.

Zeke stares at me in amazement.

“I think this changes our business relationship a bit Dev” he says while touching my face, rubbing his cum into my lips.

“I want more, my pussy is aching for you to be inside me” I reply to him, uncovering my engorged clit and soaked pussy. Showing him what I want him to destroy.

“How bad do you want me right now Dev? I want you to beg for my dick” Zeke says with all authority in his voice.

He walks over to her, reaching for her. She reaches out her hand, he moves it and grabs her by the neck. She instantly climaxes in his hands. He’s holding Dev his hands as she drops all over the tall grass.. he moves in close to kiss her cum covered lips.

And then…

To be continued.

#ginger pussy #onlyf@nz #+18 or +adult only #sexy content #18+ content #spicy content #watch me masturbate #starrdevereauxxtales💋#submisive and breedable

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superprincesspea · 2 months

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Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 9 - Favour

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

Warning - This chapter contains canon typical violence.

~~~

The summer tourney brings competitors from as far north as Deepwood Motte, to as far south as Sunspear, but none have set more tongues wagging than Aemond Targaryen.

According to Maris, he never usually partakes in any tourneys, yet he was partaking in this one, and there was hardly a lady at court who did not dream he would ask for her favour.

But not you. You were only glad you’d not had to endure his company since Helaena’s name day. Though Maris could not say the same.

It had been three days, and if she did not spend more time with Aemond, then he could never fall in love with her, and that just wouldn’t do.

So, with the royal summer quickly drawing to a close, she had begun to beg your father to extend your stay for another two weeks. Enough time, in her opinion, to secure a prince.

But Borros Baratheon was not borne for the life of a courtier and, from what he’d seen in the Red Keep, his daughters would all find far better matches with his banner men instead of the ‘pompous arses at court’.

Still, despite his feelings on the Red Keep, he was pleased enough when a scroll arrived just before the joust was about to begin, inviting your family to sit in the royal box at the behest of the queen.

Ordinarily you would dread such an invitation, but knowing Aemond would be preparing for the tourney elsewhere, meant you could be quite comfortable with his family instead of crammed into the stands with everyone else.

Though if you were completely honest, you weren’t exactly looking forward to a spectacle of blood and violence, and the idea of men charging at each other with giant sticks was a little absurd.

But you could enjoy the ceremony of it all. With the horses dressed in house colours, countless banners flying proudly in a blue sky, and all that well polished armour.

Some of it was like a work of art, so distinct and detailed. The only place you ever saw armour like that was at a tourney, where it was designed for intrigue instead of practicality. Though you think practicality should really be the main thought behind such things.

Still, you’re excited to see it and you’ve wondered, more times than you'd care to admit, just what Aemond’s armour will look like. Practical or beautiful.

When you enter the royal box, excited to see the crowd which has been making so much noise, Queen Alicent stands and, though you’re expecting her to greet your father, she bypasses him in favour of you .

“Lady Baratheon,” she says warmly, taking your arm in hers as though you’re old friends, before she leads you to sit in the chair beside her.

You can only imagine what your family must think of this, yet its only Maris who’s desperately trying to catch your eye, her gaze so forlorn.

“Why have you abandoned our Cyvasse games? I’ve missed them terribly,” Alicent says, and you’re taken aback. You’d never really thought your games were anything more than a distraction until court resumed.

“Forgive me, your grace,” you bow your head, “I thought perhaps you were in no need of my company when the hunt returned.”

She laughs kindly, “so you will leave me to play all my games with Aemond, when you have seen what a devil he is? I am quite in need of your help if we are to conquer him.”

You meet her eye and laugh, but your laughter is uneasy compared to hers. “I believe it will take more than a few days to conquer his grace.”

She looks thoughtful, “will your father not extend your families stay?”

“We are all eager to return home,” you say, though it is only you and your father who wish to return to Storms End.

Alicent does not hide her disappointment, and you’re not sure why you feel so guilty except you do. As though you’re letting her down in some way, yet you haven’t made any promises at all.

“I’ve never visited the Stormlands, but we have a palace there. Summerhall, you have seen it?”

“I have not, your grace.”

She seems surprised. “Aemond stayed there in the spring. I thought perhaps that was where he had met you.”

Your face feels hot, flustered. “Met me?”

“Yes, you knew him before you came to court, did you not?”

You lick your lips, your throat suddenly feeling far too dry for words, “no, your grace.”

She seems surprised again. “When my son returned from Summerhall and suggested we invite your family to court, I thought perhaps he had made a dear new friend .”

You try not to react, but you are reacting, your mind reeling, your cheeks burning even hotter than before.

“Perhaps he met my father?” you say, feeling pleased to have thought of some reasonable explanation when she is looking at you with the shrewd expression she usually reserves for her son.

“Perhaps,” she leans even closer, so there are no prying ears in your conversation, “but he does not look at your father, or indeed any of your sisters, the way he looks at you .”

If a dragon could swoop from the sky and eat you alive, you would thank it for the pleasure, but you’re not that lucky.

Of course Aemond looks at you differently , you think nervously. You’re the only one in your family who was stupid enough to be naked on a beach!

But you can’t say that to the queen. In fact, you cannot even bring yourself to say anything at all and, perhaps, in saying nothing, you tell her everything she needs to know.

Then the games begin. The fanfare sounding, two men riding into the forum, but you can hardly concentrate. Your heart is pounding so hard you feel it might burst from your chest.

“You may sit with your sisters,” Alicent says, her voice making you startle, and you stand, knowing it will be rude for you to leave without at least looking at her.

But when you turn to her, the knowing smile on her face makes you nervous all over again.

“You should be at the front in case someone asks for your favour,” she adds as though she hasn’t said quite enough.

You curtsy politely and cannot return to your sisters quick enough.

Someone . You know she means Aemond, but the idea of him asking for your favour seems absurd. It’s too bold and far too romantic.

Aemond might be insanely arrogant in most regards, but he was also painfully reserved. He didn’t dance, hardly smiled and, if that wasn’t enough, the only time he was mildly tolerable was when you were alone.

In public, he was so unreasonably rude and certainly not the type to ask for anyone’s favour, least of all yours.

He might have suggested your family come to court, but you were certain that was only to allow him the pleasure of tormenting you face to face. Except , the stack of books in your chamber had no bearing on torment but you could not think of that now.

“What did the queen say to you?” Maris demands before you’ve even taken your seat.

“We spoke of Cyvasse and... Summerhall , she said Prince Aemond likes to stay there sometimes.”

“He does?” Her face lights up, excited by this new information, and you can see the very moment fresh schemes begin to cloud her mind instead of more questions.

Cassandra says nothing. Yet the way she looks at you makes you feel uneasy, as though she's on the verge of asking something far more probing than Maris had.

So, you do your best to ignore her, glad when the crowd grows far too lively for easy conversation, leaving nothing to do but watch with sickening fascination at the whole spectacle.

Aemond’s match is last, and his competitor is a man named Lord Glover who you have never seen before, though he is very hard to miss.

“He is a beast,” Maris exclaims, and she’s right. He’s so tall and broad shouldered, you almost think he should be carrying his horse and not the other way around.

As he approaches the royal box, he removes his helmet to reveal soft brown curls and a friendly, open smile.

He bows his head to the Queen, then her children, before his attention turns to you and your sisters.

“I would have come South far sooner if I had known of all the beautiful ladies they hide at court,” he says, forcing his horse to a stop and, even from where you’re sitting, you can see the pretty colour of his eyes, like moss in the rain.

“You hail from the north, Lord Glover?” you ask, intrigued by all the stories which had always described it as some dangerous and mythical place.

“Almost as far North as you can go before the wall, but do not hold that against me.”

“My sister likes windswept places,” Maris interjects with a playful laugh, and you find yourself blushing at the way his smile burns brighter.

“Well, in that case, may I have the honour of your favour and your name, my Lady?”

Without thinking, you catch Alicent’s eye, and her stare is quite fixed as you rise from your chair, holding your handkerchief.

You’d almost forgotten to bring it and take care to ensure the wonky cornflower is hidden from view as you tell him your name and begin to tie it around his lance.

But before you have finished, the noise from the crowd grows more excited, and you glance over Lord Glover’s shoulder to where Aemond has rode into the forum.

Wearing all black with a horse as dark as his armour, his helmet tucked under his arm. A sensible choice, you think. No garish pieces and made for battle instead of pageantry, though he seems to enjoy the spectator's cheers well enough, slowly lapping the ground before his eye finds you.

You glance back down, finishing the knot on your favour, trying only to feel the softness of Lord Glover’s mossy gaze, instead of the ice which burns from Aemond’s.

Then he takes your hand, “may I have your first dance this evening, my lady?”

You can’t help but return his easy smile, excited by the prospect of a man who has not been corrupted by Aemond. “You may, Lord Glover, and good luck.”

Seeming pleased with your answer, he presses his lips to the back of your hand, and your heart does a little leap when his finger grazes across your wrist.

“I shall look forward to it,” he says, with one last smile, before kicking his horse into a trot just as Aemond approaches the box.

“Your little sister seems to have hedged all her bets on the loser,” he declares boldly, looking at Maris.

“You have fought Lord Glover before?” you interrupt, annoyed by his arrogance.

“No,” he twists his head towards you, “but I do not play to lose.”

You think of your Cyvasse game and feel even more annoyed, “nobody plays to lose, your grace. I’m sure Lord Glover is anticipating his victory with as much enthusiasm as yourself.”

Aemond’s jaw tightens, his lance sliding up to slam on the rail beside you, but you don’t startle. You hold firm and perhaps, if you were thinking more clearly, you’d be thinking this entire exchange is another one which is far too familiar.

But somehow, it's like everyone else doesn’t exist, just you, the prince and yet another disagreement.

“His victory?” He says and you can hear the distain in his voice as plainly as you can see it on his face, yet you prod him.

Looking towards Lord Glover with a smile, “I can certainly see no reason why not.”

“Your favour, Lady Baratheon,” Aemond commands and your eyes snap back to his, but his attention has turned to Maris.

She hops up from her chair, her cheeks flushed and her handkerchief waving in the air with all those delicate little stitches.

This is everything she’s wanted for weeks, yet you cannot bring yourself to smile for her as you sit back down. Your chest feels too tight, your shoulders rigid.

You were so certain he wouldn’t ask anyone .

Yet he was asking her, and perhaps if he was being sweeter, you might have been more concerned about the acute pang of jealousy which struck the moment she jumped up from the chair.

But Aemond is being Aemond. There’s no romance, no kiss of the hand. His mouth is a hard line, his attention elsewhere.

He doesn’t even see the way Maris is smiling or how her fingers are trembling with excitement as she knots her handkerchief into a bow.

It's all so perfunctory to him, and you forget about your own feelings, whatever they are, because you cannot stand the way he’s ignoring her.

Why did he even ask?

Can he not see how much she adores him?

If you were Maris, you would scrunch the handkerchief into a tight ball and throw it at his stupid head.

Yet Maris is still smiling and it's you who reclaims his attention, his eye dark and dangerous as he pulls the helmet over his head.

Fear seizes control of your veins and you’re not sure if it's for Aemond or Lord Glover. But the size comparison really is alarming when they’re at either end of the arena.

Glover is well over 6 feet tall, his arms like sturdy branches of a tree. It's difficult to imagine a scenario where he could lose. Yet you cannot underestimate Aemond, nor can you bring yourself to watch.

Your eyes squeeze shut the very moment the horses begin to pound the earth, and it's only a few seconds, before the sound of splintered wood cracks through the air like a clap of thunder.

There’s a thud, the high whinny of a horse, followed by the sharp metal draw of a sword.

You force your eyes to peel open, one at a time, to find both men dismounted and circling each other with their weapons in hand.

Glover charges, his sword clashing heavily with Aemond’s shield, and only then are you certain it was the dragon who’d been unseated.

Aemond seems to favour his left leg, holding his arm tightly into his ribs before his sword raises to meet with Glover’s next attack.

With every clash, you shift closer and closer to the edge of your seat, time seeming to move more slowly than it had in the previous fights.

More than ever, you’re wondering why in the world anyone would ever do this?

Aemond leaps forward then back, tricking Glover into thinking he’s going to attack. So, when Glover swings his sword, Aemond isn’t there. Instead, he strikes the giant knight in the side, toppling him over like the felling of a great tree.

“Finish him!” the crowd shouts but Glover is surprisingly agile, rolling beneath the jousting fence to give himself space to manoeuvre back onto his feet.

If Aemond wasn’t injured, you’re certain he would have followed him, but he uses the time to regain his own strength before they clashed again. Shield against shield, thrashing until Aemond’s crumples in his hands and he throws it aside.

Glover uses the opportunity to thrust his sword towards Aemond’s chest, forcing the dragon to duck and weave, a thing that cannot be easy given his injury. Yet he does it so flawlessly, as though the pain is nothing to him.

Glover’s next strike is even harder and, though Aemond brings his sword up to meet it, he cannot repel the attack. Instead, Glover presses his weight into the sword, forcing Aemond to his knee.

By now you’re leaning onto the railing in front of you with both hands and the crowds are calling, “finish him,” yet again. Though you’re uncertain if the words are meant for the Prince or Lord Glover. Yet the distraction proves in Aemond’s favour.

Glover is too busy enjoying the taste of victory before it has really touched his lips and, as he revels in the cheers with the dragon at his feet, Aemond springs free, slicing his sword up and under the giant Lords Helmet.

The move is so quick, your brain barely has time to register it, and, for a moment, they both just stand there, leaving you to wonder if the sword had hit him at all.

Then Lord Glover folds in on himself, a thick stream of blood hitting the dirt just before he does.

You gasp, the sound completely swallowed by the deafening ovation of a bloodthirsty crowd, as Aemond removes his helmet and throws it to the dirt.

His lip is busted open, his hand clasped against his ribs, but that does not stop the smile on his face as he turns to the royal box and finds your horrified expression.

You shrink back into the chair and Maris leans in with a smug grin, “and he won with my favour.”

You don’t answer, your gasp has seemed to drain all speech from your throat, and it doesn’t return until some hours later.

~~~

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond

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hbyrde36 · 10 months

Text

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 2

Ch 1 ao3 link

*Eddie - 1986*

Dustin burst in the door without knocking. A habit Eddie had been trying to break him out of for years. One of these days he’d do it at the wrong time and see something he’ll wish he hadn’t. Maybe then he’d learn his lesson.

“So, don’t freak out but…”

“Ugh” Eddie groaned, pushing his face further into his pillow. “It’s never good when you start a sentence like that. At least let me get some coffee first.”

“Fine.” Dustin relented, stomping back out into the kitchen of the Munson trailer.

Ten minutes later and with coffee in hand, Eddie motioned for Dustin to continue with whatever nonsense he’d woken him up for this morning.

“I told the guys about Steve, about you knowing him.”

“Dustin!” Eddie shouted, incredulously.

“What? It’s not like it’s some big secret or something!”

“You didn’t know!”

“No, I didn't. But I should have realized, and I shouldn’t have said what I did the other night about him. That wasn’t cool. That’s why I told them, because I felt bad, and because I was thinking that maybe we could do a little investigation of our own?”

The kid meant well and it was sweet that he wanted to do something to make Eddie feel better, but what did he think he and a bunch of teenagers would be able to do about it?

Eddie shook his head. “I already told you man, his parents are loaded. I’m sure they left no stone unturned. What could we possibly do that they haven't already tried?”

Dustin’s face spread into a cocky grin. “For starters, Mike talked to Nancy. Did you know she dated Steve for a little while right around the time Will got lost in the woods?”

He had known that actually. In fact he vividly remembered catching the two of them in the boy’s bathroom that one time. He’d never thought about it in reference to Steve’s disappearance before though. The couple had broken up a few months before it happened.

“Yea, okay. So, they dated. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I'm not sure if it does, but the police never even talked to her. Mike said she was willing to talk to us about him, if you want.”

Eddie couldn’t believe he was actually considering this, but it was hard to deny how intrigued he was to learn more about Steve. Even if it didn’t lead to any answers about what had happened to him.

“You know what? Fuck it. Let's do it.” Eddie declared, slamming his now empty cup down on the table for emphasis.

“Language! I am a child!.” Dustin gasped, in a dramatic impersonation of his mother.

“Shut it, nerd.”

“You literally play D&D with children! Who’s the nerd now?!”

Eddie had never really had a full conversation with Nancy. They said hi in passing, and whenever he came to the house to play with the boys of course, but that was the extent of it. Now he was supposed to sit here in the Wheeler’s basement, like it was any other day, and talk to her about her ex boyfriend. Awkward.

Or, maybe not.

According to Dustin, Nancy knew all about their game, including how she, Steve, and many others were used as characters in it. She understood their curiosity. She herself had always thought that there was something suspicious about the whole thing. That maybe there was more going on in Hawkins than a single missing boy.

“Do you remember the day in the cafeteria, when Steve got into that screaming match with Tommy and Carol?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, but I heard it was brutal.” He’d skipped out early that day to meet up with Rick for more product. The whole school was buzzing about it the next day, he could have kicked himself for missing the show.

“It was. I was shocked. I had never seen him act like that. I know he and I hadn’t been together that long, so I could be wrong, but It seemed so out of character. I mean, everything he said was true, and those two probably deserved it, but the three of them had been best friends for years. He never stood up to them before, so why now? It felt like it came out of nowhere.”

She paused, taking a breath and gathering her thoughts before continuing.

“I remember him looking at me, just before he stormed off when it was all over. He didn’t look mad, it was more like.. I don’t know, scared, maybe?”

Well, that was a little ominous. Eddie and the younger boys shared a look as Nancy got up from her seat on the couch and started pacing.

“He called me later that night and asked me to come over so we could talk. When I got there, he stepped out onto the porch instead of letting me come inside. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back, it was a little odd. We sat on the steps and he said that he was sorry, but he couldn’t see me anymore. I asked him if there was someone else, but he said no. He just wanted to be single for a while and concentrate on other things. It was fine. I don’t think either of us were too upset about it. We hugged and said our goodbyes, and that was the last time I spoke to him.”

She stopped pacing, standing directly in front of Eddie as she finished her story.

“I still saw him around, of course, and heard about how he quit the school teams. Which seemed weird, because, what was this more important thing he was focusing on? Clearly it wasn’t sports. Then he started skipping school, so it wasn’t about his grades either. I started to wonder if maybe he had gotten into drugs or something.”

Or, he could have just been lying to let you down easy, Eddie thought, but that wasn’t very kind. Instead he said, “If he was, he wasn't getting them from me.”

Dustin gasped. “Wait, dude, are you really a drug dealer?”

Fuck. “Um. No?”

“You are! You’re totally a drug dealer!” Dustin said, bouncing in his seat and pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.

Eddie groaned. “Please stop yelling ‘drug dealer’ before Mike's parents hear you and kick me out!”

“Does that mean you smoke pot?” Lucas asked.

“Can we smoke pot?” Mike added quickly, grinning.

“Absolutely not!” Eddie and Nancy shouted, simultaneously.

He turned to her, hands raised. “For the record, I don’t sell anymore. Not since my supplier went to jail.”

Dustin’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh shit, is Reefer Rick a real person?”

Nancy gave Eddie a hard look.

“What?! We all used people from our life in the game!” He said defensively. “Look, guys, I think we’re getting off track here.”

“Is there anything else weird you remember about Steve from before he disappeared?” Will asked Nancy, speaking for the first time. Eddie threw him a grateful smile.

“Not that I can think of.”

“What about his parents?” Lucas asked.

“I never met them, but he always said his dad was an asshole. The way he talked sometimes, it sounded like they weren’t around a lot.”

The image of it flashed in Eddie’s mind for a moment. Steve, all by himself in that big empty house of his. Haunting its hallways in the middle of the night. He shook his head roughly to clear it.

Maybe it was silly to think of it that way. What teenage boy wouldn’t love having the house to himself? No one hassling you or telling you what to do. He couldn’t explain why, but somehow he didn’t think Steve liked being alone.

Eddie was startled when Nancy placed a hand on his arm. She looked at him, face pinched with concern. He realized suddenly that they were alone. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t realize the boys had left. She saw him looking around and explained.

“I sent the boys upstairs for lunch. It looked like you needed a minute.”

“Yea, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.” He got up to collect his things, and headed towards the basement steps.

“It’s the time of year. I get it, I've been thinking about him a lot too.” She said, following him.

Eddie shook his head. It wasn’t the same, she was allowed to think about Steve. To miss him. What right did Eddie have? “That’s different. You dated the guy. We weren’t even friends.”

“You’re allowed to miss him, Eddie.”

“No, I'm not.”

“He thought you were brave, y’know.”

“What?” He stopped walking, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around to face her.

“He told me once, the first time I sat with him for lunch. You had jumped up on your table, ranting and raving about whatever had bothered you that day.” She sounded amused at the memory. “Tommy and the others sneered and complained, but not Steve. He smiled as he watched you. He said, ‘sometimes I wish I could be brave like that. Just stop caring about what everyone else thinks and be free’.”

He finally looked back at her over his shoulder. She smiled at him kindly, it seemed genuine so he returned the gesture.

“Thanks, Wheeler.”

Eddie didn’t stay to join the boys for lunch, though he did make plans to meet up with them the next day. He needed some time alone to process what they’d learned so far. He did his best thinking in the van, so he drove around town aimlessly, blasting Metallica and trying to sort through it all.

Eventually he made his way to Loch Nora, slowing when he reached Steve’s street. He’d never been inside the Harrington house, but he knew where it was. There was no car in the driveway, so he rolled to a stop in front of it. A ‘For Sale’ sign was stuck in the grass a few feet to the right of the mailbox.

He hadn’t realized Steve’s parents were selling the place. Good, Eddie thought. It would make his next task that much easier. He’d come up with a plan, of sorts, as he cruised around Hawkins. The first step? A good old fashioned breaking and entering.

*Steve - 1983/1984*

Two days after finding Eleven out in the woods, Steve cut ties with all his friends. He made a big scene out of calling Tommy and Carol assholes in the middle of the cafeteria, to really drive the point home. He turned himself into a social pariah overnight, anything to keep people from wanting to get close to him.

He let Nancy go. It was easy enough. He found that he wasn’t even all that upset about it, he knew she wouldn't be too sad either. He’d seen how she looked at Jonathan that day at school, when the news broke that Will was missing. They would get together before too long, he was sure of it.

He quit the swim team, basketball, and only continued going to school because dropping out would be too suspicious. He started skipping days a lot.

Eleven, who he’d taken to calling El for short, needed her own space. He would have loved to decorate the guest room for her, would have let her paint the walls and everything. Unfortunately, his parents still came home on occasion, and it would be too hard to hide. Instead, they worked together to fix up a space for her in the attic. Even when they were home, his parents never went up there.

He didn’t know anything about little girls, but neither did El, so they figured things out together. He set her up with a T.V. to keep her company when he was gone during the day. He gave her a bunch of catalogs to look through, and told her to take a marker and circle anything she liked. Clothes, bedding, curtains, toys, he bought it all. Perks of the Harrington name, and a credit card with a high spending limit.

By the time her attic room was done, she finally felt secure enough to sleep in her own bed. She felt safe in the knowledge that her new brother wouldn’t abandon her as she slept, or lock her inside. Sometimes though, he would wake up to find she’d come into his room in the middle of the night. Almost always when it rained.

They quickly became a little family, he and El. Steve didn’t have any siblings, hadn’t thought he even liked kids, and certainly never knew how much he wanted a little sister until she came along. He taught her what he knew about the world, and in return he learned the importance of patience and kindness. Together, they discovered unconditional love.

For a few wonderful months, life was good. There was a little hiccup in January of ‘84, when eleven accidentally knocked a vase off the counter in the kitchen. It was fine. She caught it with her mind before it hit the floor, then levitated it back upright on the counter. It was the first time she’d used her powers in front of Steve. Powers he had been completely unaware of.

He’d hyperventilated for a while, but once he recovered he explained to her that, ‘No sweetie, I didn’t know you could do that, but it’s fine. I promise. No, I'm not afraid of you. It’s just another part of you, and I love who you are.’

It was another turning point for them, a catalyst that compelled her to explain more about where she came from. What sort of things they did to her at the lab, and she finally told him all about Papa and the other children.

Steve had never pushed her on any of it, happy to just keep her safe, and wait until she was ready to talk. Once she did? Well, he was fucking livid. It was all he could do not to go to the newspapers, or Chief Hopper, and blow the whole thing wide open. Hell, he would have found the place himself and burnt it to the ground if he didn’t know for a fact that there were other kids living inside.

In the end, he did nothing. Too afraid that if he was caught, or worse, there would be no one who knew about El, or where she was. There would be no one to take care of her.

It was all his fault. He should have known better. It was his job to take care of her, and he had failed in that task spectacularly. It was spring break 1984, Easter Sunday. He’d just wanted to take her out to breakfast, something he could remember doing with his own parents for the holiday when he was young. Back when they at least pretended to give a shit about him.

They were as safe about it as they could have been. He picked a small restaurant two towns over, where no one would recognize them. She looked so happy when she smiled at him over her massive stack of waffles.

He didn’t see it for what it was, when the two nondescript white work vans pulled into the parking lot of the diner. Movies had him envisioning a legion of fancy black town cars pulling up on him one day, a swarm of dark suits surrounding him, demanding to know where the girl was. He should have known that Papa would be a bit more subtle.

The bell above the main entrance door dinged as a new customer entered. El looked up reflexively at the sound and her eyes went wide. It was the only warning Steve had before a tall man with white hair and an impeccably tailored gray suit slid into the booth next to him.

“Hello, Eleven. You’re looking well.”

Steve watched as she curled in on herself. Turning back into the little girl he found in the woods right before his eyes.

“Papa.” She gasped, bottom lip trembling.

The man turned to look at Steve. “I’m Dr. Brenner. Now, don’t go getting any big ideas, young man. I have people on every door to this place. You’ll never make it to that pretty car of yours in time, and I can assure you that if you try, they will not hesitate to... deal with the situation.”

Steve froze, not remotely prepared for this scenario. He didn’t know what to do and was scared of making a misstep. He wasn’t afraid for himself, he didn’t care what happened to him, but he was terrified for El, and the possibility of losing his sister forever.

“Here’s what's going to happen.” Brenner continued. “Eleven is going to leave this place with me, right now. You, Mr. Harrington, yes I know all about you, are going to go back to your life and forget that any of this ever happened. If you so much as think about telling anyone what you’ve seen, we will know, and we will come for you.”

“I’m not going to just let you take her.” Steve protested, heart pounding.

“You don’t have a say in the matter.”

“If you take her then you’ll have to take me too!” Steve raised his voice a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the other diners.

“That’s not an option.” Brenner hissed. “I have no need for someone like you”

Steve lowered his voice to a whisper, knowing that angering the man further wasn’t going to help. “I’m not leaving her. I’ll die first. You’ll have to kill me right here and now in front of all these people. Do you really want to make that big of a scene?”

Steve could tell the man was considering it. “Please.“ He begged. “I'm sure you can find some use for me. I’ll do anything.”

Brenner sighed. “Very well. You will both follow me outside. Leave your car keys on the table, Steven, you won’t be needing them.”

The man slid out of the booth, threw more cash than necessary on the table, and walked out the door.

Steve scrambled out of his seat at the same time El did, and they collided in a desperate embrace. She was shaking, crying. Steve ran his fingers through her short curls.

“I'm sorry El, I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

She looked up at him, blinking through tears. “It’s not your fault, they would have found me eventually, one way or another.”

“I’ll get us out of this somehow, I promise.”

She took a small step away from him and shook her head. “No, Steve. You have to let him take me. Only me. You have a life, parents, a family.”

He shook his head, taking her small hand in his. “You are my family El. I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together. You and me, always.”

Chapter 3

@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ao3 #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #fanfic #ao3 link #life is a game #Canon is just a crazy game of D&D #alternating pov #Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson are cousins #Steve Harrington and Eleven taking care of eachother

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wardenparker · 8 months

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The Viper's Bride - ch 15

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: Mature, but as always this blog is 18+ Word Count: 11.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* Talk of previous grievances, incest reference (Lannisters gonna Lannister), blink and you'll miss it mention of homelessness. As always, there is sexy talk. It is Oberyn, after all. Summary: The day before Oberyn is to represent Tyrion in the Trial by Combat, your extended and elaborate family comes together to celebrate in anticipation of the fight. Notes: First up, I'm working extra shifts and even though it's my dream job I'm tired y'all 😂 so sorry for any errors I missed. But also! We're almost at the end here, folx! We'll have one more chapter after this and then the epilogue. Thank you all so much for sticking around to watch this polycule grow!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14

It is three days before the Mountain arrives in King’s Landing. The Trial by Combat had been announced throughout the capital on the day it was agreed and the days since had been dedicated to the building of a great arena for the event. Every noble in the keep thought of it as no more than sport — every noble except the members of your party and Tyrion Lannister himself, who all had far more at stake. For the group of you, the days of anticipation have been agony.

“They are simply playing a game.” Oberyn hisses, standing in nothing but his breeches as he sharpens the spear he wishes to take into the ring. He’s already discarded several, broken in training, though he is now resting until the time where he faces Gregor. “Wishing to gain the upper hand by delaying, thinking I will become impatient.” He scoffs. “As if I have not waited years for this.”

“They have no idea of your true determination, lover.” Ellaria has seen so many shades and versions of this need for revenge that no part of it could surprise her anymore. She knows it could have been the singular focus that drive him mad, and that it is oddly fortunate that he escaped that fate.

“They do not know me or the Dornish need for justice.” He muses grimly. “They will discover it, publicly.”

“And then we will be rid of this place.” You have Margaery’s hand in yours as the two of you sit on the nearby chaise together, and you squeeze it gently in your fingers. It has only been a few days but the news of her marriage to the new Dornish lord had caused an outpouring of sentiment against her family and her specifically. Thankfully, Olenna Tyrell seemed more amused by it than anything and promised her granddaughter that they would all forget when the next scandal broke.

“I am looking forward to seeing Dorne.” She admits as she glances over to where Raeden is sprawled with Ellaria on another chaise. “I have heard about it and wish to marvel at its bright beauty myself. Especially the Water Gardens.”

“You could have your honeymoon there,” Ellaria suggests, leaning over to kiss Raeden and glad to talk about something other than tomorrow’s fight. “Locked up in your rooms fucking to your heart’s content until you are full of your lord’s babe, and then you can rest in the Gardens for all your pregnancy.”

“Perhaps I can also sample the prince’s cock once I am carrying Raeden’s heir.” She wears a small smirk as she greedily watches the lean lines of the older man. She’s sucked his cock, several times, but like Raeden with you, he would not risk her husband’s true heir being called into question.

“I would very much like to watch that,” you hum, turning your head to nip at her neck and pulling the younger woman into your lap. The two of you have become much closer in just a few days, much to the delight of your husbands.

“I will be very eager to sample your cunt.” Oberyn chuckles, looking up from his spear. “Although tonight.” He grunts, his eyes dark and lusty when he looks at Raeden. “I want to have your husband tonight.”

The statement hangs in the air between all of you, and Raeden is the first to nod. “You will. You will have me.”

It has been a long time coming, Margaery knows this, even with as short a time as she has been tangled in this group. Not once has she felt slighted because she does not bear any marks on her skin from the four of you. “It will be a night to celebrate.” She decides. “In anticipation of your victory.”

“You will witness true victory tomorrow.” Ellaria agrees, fire in her eyes as she gazes up at Oberyn. “They all will.”

He’s sure of himself, almost to the point of brashness, but he has also commanded his own company with the Second Sons. Survived the fighting pits and his reputation was well earned. Still, he is grateful for the support of his soulmates and his lovers. “Yes they will.”

“We should feast tonight.” The idea had formed in your mind yesterday and lingered, something that you have learned to pay attention to. The idea that it could – however unlikely he seems to think the possibility – be your last night with your husband makes you want to sob like you have just heard the news that he would be champion all over again.

Oberyn turns towards you, watching you for a moment before he nods. “Get dressed, Princess.” He decides. “You and I will go to the market and order our feast.”

There is no reason to point out that Cal or Leyth could easily see the Dornishman in the market. Everyone here knows that. But he wants to spend time with you, and you want more than anything to hold his arm while you walk and pretend it is simply a normal day. “I will only take a few minutes,” you promise him, pulling yourself up off the chaise and away from a reluctant-to-let-go Margaery.

“Take your time.” He smirks. “Wear something beautiful.” He wants you to be seen, wants to be seen with you. Firmly believing appearances can affect the memory of the day.

“I have just the thing.” Enough weeks had passed in the Capitol that you had been able to order gowns from a dressmaker with knowledge of Dornish fashion, and you had intended to save it for your arrival in your new home, but this seems far more important. You disappear into the next room to extract it from your trunk with a smile. Oberyn will be quite surprised.

Oberyn sets the spear down and walks over to the table that has a bowl of clean water with soap and cloths next to it. As much sex as everyone has been indulging in, it had seemed prudent to keep the water on hand. He starts to bathe his chest, sweaty from the day and wishing to freshen up while he waits.

The group of you have all packed. Determined to leave King’s Landing in just two days’ time, most things have been put away for the journey. What is left to amuse yourselves with is sex, books from the keep’s library — and usually more sex. The difference is only when Oberyn and Raeden are in the practice ring, but when they return they are usually ravenous for company.

It takes little more than ten minutes for you to emerge from the chamber in the gown that you had carefully selected the colors and fabrics of weeks earlier — gold trim making the colors of fire seem to dance with every step you take. The sheer outer layer sparkles and shines, and the layer underneath flows while still showing off your figure. It preserves that feeling of modesty that you are accustomed to with significantly less fabric and a form unmistakably Dornish flare. Even your slippers are more like the ones Ellaria wears each day, leather platforms tying halfway up your calves with amber lacing. “Are you ready, my prince?”

“Star.” Oberyn’s eyes widen and he groans as he takes in your appearance. “I will have to wear my sword so no one could try to steal you from me.” He hums, cock twitching in his breeches. “The seamstress who made this for you deserves every coin you paid her and then a hefty sum.”

"There are others," you promise him, glad to see the light in his eyes even over something as simple as a dress. "I gave her double her fee when I saw how fine the work was. Do you...do you truly like it? I know you have said many times that you wished I wore more Dornish style gowns."

“If I could show you now how much I like it, we would not feast tonight.” He growls, fingers tracing over your bare shoulder and sighing softly at your softness.

"You will show me later." Later, when he has all of you at his beck and call for whatever it is he might desire. But for now you take his hand and kiss his palm tenderly. "Let us go and walk. We will show the capitol that Dorne is not afraid."

“That’s my girl.” He curls his arm up and wraps your hand around it, looking at Margaery, Raeden and Ellaria. “We will be back. And I will want all of us in bed. So make sure you do not tire yourselves out.” He chuckles.

"I swear it," Ellaria chuckles, with one hand over her heart. "I will teach our newlyweds about edging if they need attention."

Margaery tilts her head curiously and smirks at Ellaria. “What is that?” She asks innocently.

The chuckle turns to a throaty, pleased laugh, and Ellaria sits up to kiss Oberyn before bringing Margaery into her arms. "Go and enjoy yourself, lover," she tells him with a lascivious grin. "We will be well occupied here."

“Come, Star.” Oberyn smiles as he guides you out of the chambers and immediately runs into one of Cersei’s servants. “Splendid.” He hums, leaning into the girl. “More water is needed.” He tells her. “There will be an orgy in these rooms tonight.”

She looks positively affronted by the notion but nods nervously, scurrying away as fast as her feet will carry her. "I suppose it does not matter that Cal could easily have fetched our water?" You ask, raising one eyebrow at him as you continue down the hallway. "You would far rather that it get back to Cersei's ears."

“Absolutely.” He chuckles and starts the slow, unconcerned stroll with you towards the front doors of the Keep. “She will either stay far away or have to come interrupt. Either way, I will now that she is wondering who is in the chambers moaning.”

"Whomever we want to be." A few months into your arrangement - and your marriage - it is safe to say that you are far more comfortable with yourself and with sex than ever before. "And that bothers her, too."

“I would like Cal and Leyth with us tonight, my love.” He ventures, patting your hand. “Do you have any objections? Only if they wish to join.” He won’t force them to, of course. He wouldn’t do that, but he wants to touch them again and tonight seems to be a fine night to do so.

"No objections at all." He could ask you for the moon and you would only tell him that you need to find a ladder tall enough. "They have missed being invited to your bed."

“As long as you are comfortable with it.” There has been plenty to keep him occupied and satisfied throughout the last weeks, especially discovering the relationship with you, so he had not ventured to invite anyone else.

“My love,” you squeeze his arm gently under your hand as you walk together. “There is very little you could ask for tonight that I would hesitate to grant you. I hope you understand that.”

Exiting the keep, Oberyn is quiet for a little while, thinking of what he wishes to say. It is only when the crowds begin to gather, farther away from the castle does he begin. “My love,” he sighs softly. “I have sent word to my brother.” He tells you. “Informing him of our valid marriage and my expectant heir.”

“That is good.” Once, he had thought to breeze into Sunspear and amuse himself with informing Doran of what was technically your elopement. The fact that he has done otherwise is sobering, but somehow comforting in its realism. “I am sure he will be very glad of the news when it arrives, considering how upset you were when you left Dorne.”

“Word would have already reached him.” He tells you quietly. “I sent a raven the day I took on being Tyrion’s champion.” He admits, looking past the merchants stalls as they come into view towards the harbor. “I also made sure that Raeden’s house is secure. My brother would do right by him.”

“Thank you, my love. I know it means the world to him.” It sounds as though Oberyn has been getting his affairs in order, and the implications of that make your shoulders tighten and your limbs feel heavy as you walk together. Tomorrow he will fight to the death to honor and revenge this sister, and the terrifying truth is that he could be the one to lose. As cocky - and as talented a fighter - as he is, Oberyn is not a stupid man. “Should the need come, I will make sure your Sand Snakes are as well cared for as you could ever wish. Ellaria and I will not let them want for anything.”

“I will be there to see them.” Oberyn promises. “However.” He slides his arm down to take your hand in his and bring it up to his lips. “Every Dornish lord here, all their men, will see you safely from the city.” He promises. After he had accepted the role, he had gone to see them, without Raeden so he could speak frankly to them. He wanted to make sure the other lords would wholly accept your lover as Lord Sunstone. They were happy to have a new lord amongst the ranks, especially one who chose Dorne. “You need not fear any abuse.”

“I do not.” And that, thankfully, you can count on the truth. The lords of Dorne had been surprised by your sudden appearance in Oberyn’s life but accepted you fully. “And I know that you will do everything in your power to come home with us. I do not doubt that even for a moment.” You do not doubt it, but you have learned a healthy fear of the unknown.

“I will.” He agrees, squeezing your hand and smirking at you. “Let is plan this feast. I wish to make sure that we have a night to remember.”

“It would be impossible to forget a night with you.” As sentimental a thing as it is to say, you truly do mean it. Oberyn has changed so much about your life and all of it has been for the better — how could you forget even a moment of that?

“I wanted to tell you this privately.” He admits quietly. “I know that you are scared and I will win, but I thought it would making you feel better. In case the worst happens.”

“I am scared.” There is no use denying that and you would not be cruel enough to disrespect him like that. “But only because I know that life is unpredictable. And I am grateful that you are open with me. That you understand it is not that I do not believe in you. Because that is the furthest from the truth.”

“All men must have some fear.” Oberyn admits quietly. “Do not have fear is to not wish to live. And then you have already died.” He watches the people that move past the two of you and hums. “The true test of a man is conquering that fear and not letting it turn him into a coward. Using the fear for his own purposes.”

“I will have to remember that.” In the meantime, because the fear you have is for him, you lace your fingers together tightly as you walk. “May I ask you something, love?”

“Anything.” He insists. “You know that, my love. I will hide nothing from you.”

“You may object to the request and I would understand that.” He nods when your eyes meet his and you return the gesture, biting your lip slightly. “I—it is only that…I cannot stop thinking of the baby.” So much so that your hand has been unconsciously resting on the side of your still unchanged belly as you walk. “If anything were to happen to you tomorrow…I wondered if we might be able to choose a name? You should know your ninth daughter’s name, if the worst happens.”

“I think we should also pick out a son’s name.” Oberyn grunts, even though he is smiling. “For the boy the babe might be.”

“I think if I were to bear you a son, no one would believe he was yours,” you half-joke, glad that Oberyn is humoring your anxieties and making the topic sweet instead of calling out your nerves.

“They will when he looks just like me and fights at the first insult to his mother.” He predicts with a proud grin.

“Perhaps that would be enough.” You smile at the thought, though it is a thin thing. Somehow in your heart you know that carrying another of his daughters is more likely than anything. Still, it is best to be prepared. “But you would not have him named for you.”

“I believe the boy needs to forge his own reputation, not live in the shadow of mine.” Names have meaning in this time, and he would not saddle his son with his. Giving him freedom to be whomever he chose to be. “That is why I would not name a son after me.”

“Then you would not want to name him after any family? Our only after you?” The logic does make sense to you, and you nod as you walk. The marketplace is open and though people may stare you have learned to pay them no mind.

“Only after myself.” He pauses and turns towards you. “But I forbid you naming the child after your bitch of a mother.” He warns, not wishing the revisiting the past every time you looks upon a girl with that name.

“I would rather name her after my father’s soulmate that I never even met then name her after the woman who abused me,” you agree, shaking your head sadly.

“Apologies, my love.” Oberyn leans in to kiss your lips softly. “Forget I mentioned it.”

“Mentioned what?” Willing yourself to simply forget the mention of her and move on, you offer Oberyn a bright smile and steal another kiss. “I believe we were choosing names for a son?”

“Do you have any ideas?” He asks curiously. Wondering if you had imagined the names of your children before now.

"I used to tease Antony that I would name my son for him any time he did me a small favor." The sweet, nostalgic memory of an older brother doting on his younger sister brings a bittersweet smile to your face. As much as you might have told your brothers that they drove you crazy, you miss them desperately. "Anytime he did something as little as bringing me a pencil to write with, I would dramatically declare that I would honor him with naming my son Antony. It was...just a silly thing. But I suppose I never thought of anything beyond that."

“Would you wish to use that name or a piece of it?” He asks, smiling softly at the image of a young girl promising her older brother to name her son after him.

"Antony is a good name." Strong but not harsh, you had always thought it a very nice name aside from all the of the teasing. "And...Antonia is lovely, as well?"

“Naming our daughter after your brother?” He barks out a laugh even as he seriously thinks about it. “I like it.” He admits. “Antonia Martell.” He shrugs. “Rolls off the tongue better than my thought towards a name.”

"What was yours?" He has named eight daughters already, you cannot discount any ideas he might have with so much practice behind him.

“Marella.” He shrugs slightly, unconcerned. He will name the babe whatever makes you happy and be proud of it.

"Oh, that's lovely." Rolling it over in your mind though, you frown a moment later. "Although Marella Martell would be quite the tongue twister."

“Technically, she would be Princess Marella of Dorne, when people address her.” He teases. “But Antonia is much nicer.”

"I wish she was here already." It feels like a ridiculous thing to lament, but you wish it so that he could hold her. Because the fear that Oberyn might never meet his next child is creeping up your neck as if it were high tide on the rocks.

“She will come when she is ready.” Even if he teases you about giving him a male heir, he feels like you are carrying a girl. “Squawking and screaming as she shakes her fist at the world.”

You squeeze his hand again as you swallow your fears, and turn into the marketplace with him. “She will be so adored.”

“By so many.” He agrees, sighing softly. “I cannot wait to show you Dorne.”

“I hope you will show me everything.” In the weeks and months since your marriage, you have become more and more eager to see your new home. “Every time Ellaria speaks of the Water Gardens, I ache to see them.”

“We will swim in the gardens naked.” He tells you with a grin. “After the children are asleep.”

“I see you already have plans for conceiving your tenth child,” you tease, knowing he means sooner than that.

“Perhaps.” He chuckles and reaches over to rub your stomach. “I do not think we will stop at one child.”

“I certainly will not stop sharing your bed.” You could be more vulgar, but you are in public.

“It would be a dour day when you decided to stop sleeping in my bed.” He grunts. He does not think that would ever happen, despite originally thinking you would never share his bed.

“Dour would be correct,” you hum with equal dislike for the idea. “The only way it would happen would be very sad circumstances.” Very sad as in one of your deaths, and you are reminded again what tomorrow morning will bring.

“Do not think on it.” He can tell you are worrying about tomorrow again. He cannot give you more guarantees than he already has, and he will not insult you by demanding you not worry.

"I will try." Strolling together a little further, the stall where the Dornishman you have come to know as Salin sells his prepared foods is swarming with people. Since word had gotten out that Prince Oberyn enjoyed his recipes, he had been receiving more and more business.

“Salin.” Oberyn greets the man warmly, like he would any of his countrymen. “How does your day fare?”

"Very well, my prince and princess." Salin has come to recognize the sight of all of Oberyn's household, and always welcomes all of you with open arms. Today, he reaches for a fried pastry full of chopped roasted nuts, honey, and sweet dates and offers it to you. "I have heard a rumour, your Graces," he admits, smiling broadly when you accept the pastry with glee. "That you are to be congratulated?"

The prince huffs, even as he grins proudly. “Which one of them told you?” He asks, sure that Ellaria would have mentioned it since you were craving dates lately.

"I was not sworn to secrecy, so I do not fear telling you that it was your lovely paramour." He smiles even more broadly and puts one hand over his heart. "I would like to offer, if it pleases you, to send the recipe for my date cake with you when you return to Sunspear. Your cook will have no trouble recreating it, and I was told the princess enjoyed it very much."

“I would be very grateful for it.” Oberyn nods and tilts his head towards the man. “If you ever wish to come back to Dorne, I will give you a place in the palace to cook for our house.”

"You are..." Salin swallows thickly, looking between the two of you. "Your Grace is most generous." His voice wavers and his other hand comes up to his heart. "I left my mother and siblings there when I came to King's Landing and...until your patronage...did not have the money for passage to go home again."

Oberyn frowns, hating King’s Landing as much as the next Dornishman and looks towards you. “We are leaving King’s Landing. After the tournament.” He informs the merchant who has provided so many meals for his lovers and his wife. “The ship will be crowded, but I am sure we can find room for you if you wish to sail home?” He asks.

"I do." He murmurs, expression still aghast. "I wish to return home more than anything." The man looks as though he could cry, and something inside of you cracks a little, making your reach out to gently squeeze his arm in reassurance. "We had come to ask you to prepare us one last feast, but this is far better. We are happy to have you return with us."

“I-- I will prepare you the feast that would put all feasts to shame.” He agrees quickly. If he is leaving, he will need to deplete his stores. “And if your offer is genuine, I would be honored to prepare meals on the ship for your family.”

You do not even need to look over at Oberyn to know that the offer was real, but still your eyes find your husband's profile and you nod to Salin with a smile. "We will be the ones who are honoured, Salin. And thank you for this," you hold up the pastry, which you have already tried a bite of and will have demolished the sweet treat in less than another minute. "Truly, your talent is unparalleled. You either had a remarkable teacher or your talents are a gift from the gods."

“My mother.” He informs you proudly. “She runs a small tavern in Sunspear.” He beams and nods towards your pastry. “Although that is something special. It is a treat that she had made for her soulmate.” He frowns slightly but recovers to smile at the both of you.

"He had very good taste." The shadow that falls over his face does not escape you, but you do not feel your have the right to press. Instead you simply add, "And must have been a very lucky man."

“Perhaps.” That is all he will say about the man he has never met, although he looks back at the pair of you expectantly. “Do you wish me to just send whatever I make or is there something special you wish to have?” He’s not unaware that Oberyn will be in the tournament tomorrow, that he could possibly die. So tonight is a celebration feast in preparation for his victory.

"The prince favours your spicy lamb, but everything else is up to you. Whatever you feel your finest or favourite dishes are to prepare. And there are seven of us, so be generous." Everything he makes is delicious, so you have no doubt that it will all be wonderful.

Bobbling his head eagerly, Salin immediately starts to think about what he can send to the Keep. “I will have it prepared. Is there a time you will need it?”

"No sooner than usual," you assure him, knowing that your intention to eat and spend the rest of the night indulging in pleasure is shared by everyone in your small household.

“I will deliver it myself.” He promises, shaking his head when Oberyn pulls out his coin purse. “No, please. It would be my pleasure.”

"We would be remiss in offering you a place in our household and then not paying you for that talent of yours we so appreciate." The shake of your head matches his and you reach out to touch his arm again. "Please. Allow us to show you the respect you deserve."

“You are kind and gracious.” His lip trembles slightly. “My mother will be very grateful to have her oldest son back.”

Nearer now to being a mother than you ever have been before in your life, you already cannot imagine what separating from your oldest child would be like, other than being positively devastating. '"Whatever brought you to King's Landing, I hope that it was worth the trip, and that returning home will bring you just as much joy."

“My trip was in vain but I learned a valuable lesson.” He promises. “The return trip home will be much sweeter, although your patronage has made my little stand a success.”

"Perhaps the gods have given you something just as valuable that you have not yet realized." Wishing not to leave the man feeling poorly about anything at all - if you can help it - you find yourself wishing it was as easy as offering to spend time with him. To listen to his story. To find out what had happened and see if there is some way you can help. But again, you remind yourself not to force the situation. You are already giving him a way to return to his family, and that seems to be a help in its own right.

Salin nods and smiles at the Princess of Dorne and her husband. “The gods gave surely shined down in my humble soul.” He acknowledges before handing you another pastry. “For your walk, your highness.”

“You are very generous, my friend. Thank you.” With a nod of your head, you and Oberyn continue walking, leaving Salin to his work. There is much to be done before tonight, apparently, because he disappears into the back of his stall immediately. “He seems to be very glad to go home again.”

“Is there anywhere else you wish to go?” Oberyn asks you indulgently. The dress you are wearing is fine and causing many heads to turn, making him grip your hand proudly as you continue towards the water.

“I would visit every seller here just to prolong our walk,” you admit, nibbling at the treat that Salin handed you as you walk hand in hand with Oberyn. “Perhaps we could visit our smith friend once more before we leave?” An amused smile forms on your lips when his eyes slip past your face to your chest. “Or would you like to also offer passage to my dressmaker, since you seem so fond of her work?”

He snorts, and sends you an amused smirk. “If I could cart all the talented workers away from King’s Landing as a strike against the Lannisters. I would.” He jokes. “But perhaps we should see what other baubles we can purchase for amusement.”

“I know one that would amuse both you and Raeden.” You hum, making yourself walk by the bookseller’s stall without stopping. If you do, you might simply stay there the whole day. “I wonder if the goldsmith might have another necklace of thin chains for Margaery to match with myself and Ellaria.”

Oberyn grunts, his cock twitching and he hums in agreement. “It would be a very pleasant view, three gorgeous women, completely naked except for the chains around their necks.”

“It would be lovely to see.” You and Margaery seem to be the only ones who were surprised by how close you have become and how quickly, and your may or may not be looking forward to the sight yourself.

“Perhaps there is another bauble we can find for the three of you to wear tomorrow.” Oberyn muses. “I wish to see all three of you in very revealing dress. You will be on the sidelines.”

"We will wear anything you choose, love." It is very literally the least that the three of you can do, and you know that although you will all - Raeden included - be worried, you will be a united front of pride for Dorne.

“Good.” While there will be some who do not care what the lovers of Oberyn wear, just the three- four- of you being there will be an insult to the people who matter most in the private portion of this skirmish. Until he brings all their sins to the light for the Seven Kingdoms to see.

"It will be no small statement to have Margaery beside us. For the four of us to appear united in appearance as well?" It is an incredibly simple yet effective means of making your delegation seem all the more powerful, and you know that every small tactic counts. "It will disarm some of those in the capital who foolishly think Dorne to be less civilized."

“Exactly.” He is always pleased with you when you know why he is doing something. The cleverness of your minds makes him think that you would have been named your father’s heir of you had been born a man.

"Would you have us matching?" You ask him, thinking that that would take some effort to achieve by the morning. "Or wearing an emblem somehow?"

“Perhaps we will find something. If not, then there are…dresses in my trunk you could wear.” He admits with a small chuckle.

"There are more dresses in your trunks?" By this time you would have assumed that Ellaria had wore every stitch of clothing brought from Dorne to the northern capital, but apparently that assumption would be incorrect.

“If you wish to call them dresses.” He smirks. “There is more skin showing than fabric.”

"If only my belly were already swollen," you smirk up at him as you slow in your walk and come to a stop at the jeweler's stall. "That would be quite a sight to be shown off."

“One I will love to see when it happens. Especially since the dress will show off your belly.” Oberyn’s eyes narrow as he takes in the jewels on display.

"Your Graces." The man bows deeply to see you approach, the sight of the two of you together being most welcome to him. He knows it will end in a large purchase, if nothing else, and others had taken notice of the Dornish prince's patronage of his business. It had brought him enormous good fortune in the months since your first visit. "What is it you search for today?"

“Another necklace.” Oberyn informs him with a smirk. “Just like the one for my wife and my paramour. I wish to clasp it around our other lover’s neck.”

"I confess, I wondered if you might desire another." Disappearing from view for just a few seconds, the merchant comes back again with a small wooden box. He lifts the lid, showing off another glinting necklace of delicate chains. "Your reputation, after all, precedes you."

“Do you have a smaller version of this?” Oberyn asks as he traces the necklace with his fingers. “More…masculine?”

"Smaller as in…fewer strands?" The man's head tilts to one side, making sure he understands correctly.

“Fewer strands, more…” he turns to you with a frown. “I want one for Raeden.” He tells you.

"I assumed as much, when you wanted one more masculine." The expression on his face is half frustration and half plaintive, and you cup his cheek in your hand lovingly. "Do you want it to be worn under his robes tomorrow, or do you want it to be worn in bed, my love?"

“Both.” He grunts, looking at you with dark, lust filled eyes. “But I want him to wear it tomorrow. Showing on his bare chest to match your. United and under House Martell’s protection.”

"The prince desires another necklace with fewer, thicker chains," you inform the jeweler, squeezing Oberyn's hands in yours and pressing a kiss to his lips. "And it should be made to accommodate a broader chest."

The jeweler has questions but he keeps them to himself. Although the design might be on display after the custom jewelry is sold and discreetly mentioned that the Prince of Dorne bought for a male lover. It might be of interest to the right discreet party.

“It will be needed by tonight.” Neither you nor Oberyn would be willing to wait until morning and risk not having it be ready, but you are certain that Oberyn will want Raeden to wear the chains tonight, as well.

“Of course.” He knows now that the prince will not blink at the cost so he does not even warn him about the extra price for expedited work. The prince is a man who wants what he wants when he wants it with no regard to cost.

“What other new baubles have you? Any of your clever wife’s designs?” The puzzle ring that you gave to Oberyn is a favorite, and your eyes start to search through the trays of fine pieces right away.

“There is a wide selection.” He agrees eagerly, rushing over to show them to you. “Your interest and admiration has made her designs improve and her love of it increase.”

“I am very glad to hear it.” Oberyn has begun searching a different part of the stall, and you follows the merchant’s lead to look at the designs that his wife has made. “What is the piece she is most proud of? I wish to see it.”

“There is a bracelet design that my wife is very pleased with.” The latest designed may have been with a slight Dornish flair due to the Prince’s patronage. The bracelets have several bangles wove in between each other and can be pulled apart, but when they are in a solid mass, they give the illusion of being one solid piece, the bursting sun of Dorne etched into the gold.

“Oh, she is clever!” You hum happily when the merchant presents you with the multi-strand bracelet. “And your craftsmanship is exquisite, ser. It seems that no matter you you make, you and your wife are quite the formidable team.”

Delighted that you like it, he moves to grab the other ones. "I took the liberty of making several." He informs you. "Because I know that your group likes to have matching sets."

“We certainly do.” The stone in the middle of each Dornish sun is the only difference between the bracelets - one deep green, one pink-red, one orange, one yellow, one milky white, one rich blue, and one clear purple. They are stunning together and you beckon Oberyn closer to look. “There are seven, my love.” Your face shines with delight.

"Why seven?" Oberyn asks curiously. He could see if there were eight, for his daughters or two because of his last order of necklaces.

“You, Raeden, and Cal.” You have three bracelets beside your right hand, and then beside your left you point out the other four. “Ellaria, me, Margaery, and Leyth.”

"No, my love." He grunts. "I was asking the jeweler why he crafted seven bracelets."

The jeweler in question blushes, clearing his throat at the prince’s pointed attention. He was not going to call attention to the number after you seemed so delighted with the fact that there were seven. “In truth, your Grace?” He would shove his hands in his pockets in embarrassment if he had any. “There are three or four more being finished just this day. I thought to have a wide collection of colors for your Graces to choose from, that is all.”

"I will take them all." Oberyn decides, looking back at you to find you smiling down at the bracelet with a dreamy expression on your face. "What do you think, my love? For any others we might bring into our fold?" He hums. "Or perhaps..." He slides his hand around your waist and your stomach. "Perhaps as gifts for our children."

“They seem fitting for your girls, don’t you think?” If there are so many, that is. The idea of more cannot be banished from your mind. You must remember that Oberyn has a plan. “Hopefully they all have different favourite colors.”

The mention of ‘his girls’ makes Oberyn’s head snap back to the jeweler. “These bracelets.” He tells him. “I want eight more. Except instead of bursting suns, I want snakes. Coiled snakes with the different colored jewel in the eye.”

“It…is too much to do in one night.” The jeweler tells him with obvious regret and just a touch of fear. “Perhaps it could be done in two if everyone worked through the night…but I know that you are not one to wait, your Grace.”

"We will be leaving for Dorne in two days." He tells the jeweler. "Have them done by the time the ship leaves the harbor and I will give you a bonus to make it worth the effort."

“Yes, your Grace.” The man bows rather frantically, scooping up the few things that he had already talked to the two of you about, and dashing into the back of his stall. When his apprentice appears just a few moments later, you smile with the knowledge that he is going straight to work. It is not even the man’s own son he has sent to man his stall. He will be working well into the night.

"I will give my sand snakes the bracelets he is crafting now." He tells you with a proud smirk. "They will love them." He had been searching for gifts for his girls, always bringing them something when he has to travel and the bracelets would be perfect.

“They will make a beautiful gift, my love.” For his eight - soon, nine - children, a token from the trip when their father wed will hopefully be something to celebrate and not frown upon. “They will look well with the necklaces that Ellaria is bringing to each of your daughters.”

“She loves all of them.” He hums happily, smiling softly. “You will love them too, I hope.”

“I have no doubt.” One of your hands rests gently on his arm and you smile. “I cannot wait to meet them.”

“They will be waiting for us when we arrive in Sunspear.” He informs you with complete surety. “Expect many questions.”

“I expect they will have many.” Just imagining it makes you giggle, thinking of the youngest ones especially. The older girls you will be able to be more straightforward with. “Luckily we are bringing them a new grandfather as well, who will dote on them endlessly no matter who their mother is.” Being able to acquaint your father with the situations that resulted in all of Oberyn’s daughters’ births, he has been excited to meet them ever since. Once he saw how loving your husband can be and how happy you are, nothing else mattered.

“He had been surprisingly welcoming.” He had anticipated a bit of distance from his wife’s father, but he has been to dinner several times. “He will enjoy Dorne.” He frowns slightly. “I have written my brother about Marlee as well. To see if we can find her.”

“You are entirely too good, my love.” Losing her — and discovering why he had lost her — has been a reopened wound for your father, who has clung to all news and stories of Dorne in response. As though he might hear her name in one of them unwittingly.

“There is no stone I would leave unturned if my soulmate was lost to me.” He tells you, his hand sliding along your arm to tangle his fingers with yours.

“I believe I can confidently say that neither Ellaria nor I will ever leave your side.” Still, your fingers tangling tightly in his as though trying to convince him. “There is nothing in the Seven Hells that could ever tempt me away, my love.”

“That is good.” He squeezes your hand and smirks. “I will be very satisfied with being surrounded by my soulmates and our lovers for a long time.”

“Our trip home will be an interesting one, with so many of us in such close company,” you smirk up at your husband as you walk. “I imagine we will spend much time in our quarters.”

Oberyn chuckles. “I do not think Cersei imagined her gift to her daughter would ferry so many of her people away on it.”

“I suppose I can only be grateful that my family had a long-standing connection to Dorne and not to Casterly Rock.” You shudder slightly at the idea and cringe. “Imagine my mother’s victory if she had sold me to the Lannisters instead.”

“I would not wish such a fate on you.” He growls, protective of you despite the fact you are safe in his arms. “A husband with one hand who fucks his sister.”

“I would not wish such a fate on anyone.” It would have been her triumph, to manage something like that. You know how lucky and how grateful you are to have been promised to Oberyn. “I am grateful to be madly in love with my husband instead.”

“What is not to love?” He asks arrogantly with a small wink. He looks around the market again and then turns you back towards the books. “Should you not pick another dozen books for the trip to Dorne?”

“You have been so generous with growing my library that my trunks may weigh more than Margaery’s dowry.” Still, you are not about to protest. Not for a moment. “I may spend the entire journey home with my nose in a book.”

“The captain I have hired for the trip home is strong. He will have crew to move them.” He’s unconcerned with that, more interested in your happiness than anything.

“My husband indulges me.” And the adoration on your face is very clear as he leads you back toward the bookseller. “He is soft and tender hearted and sweet.”

“If you think me soft, do not be frightened tomorrow.” He jokes. He knows that you mean he is soft when it comes to you and Ellaria and how he indulges you.

“Ellaria has told me about Mereen,” you admit, leaning close to his side as you come to stop in front of the bookseller’s stall. “How you fight. What to expect.”

“I have survived many battles.” He nods. “I expect to survive many more.” He let’s go of your hand and pats your ass affectionately. “Go find the books you wish to read to me while you are sitting on my cock later on.”

******

There is a thickness, a palpable tension in the air, when you and Oberyn return from the marketplace. The jeweler had already sent by his delivery of the things Oberyn purchased which were already made, and the note from him listed the price for the items being created, which Oberyn barely glanced at. The delivery of your books, the scarves you found for Ellaria and Margaery, and the baby blanket made by the dressmaker who had crafted your Dornish-style gowns — all of it is waiting for you when you finally return. But the truest shock is that your father has apparently been spending time with Raeden, Ellaria, and Margaery this afternoon.

He hugs you when you drift into the room on Oberyn’s arm and shakes Oberyn’s hands warmly. “I thought I would pay my respects tonight instead of distracting you with well wishes in the morning.” He tells your husband honestly.

While he had not thought much of your father when he first met the man, he had been sorely impressed with his insight since your mother’s departure. They had several frank and interesting conversations and Oberyn had refrained from engaging in his normal pleasures that he might with another lord, taking him to a whorehouse. “Many thanks.” He offers with a smile. “Join us, we are having a Dornish feast delivered by the best cook outside of her boarders.” He boasts. “In fact, I have offered him a place in the palace kitchens and he will sail with us when we depart.”

“We are bringing Salin home with us?” Ellaria sounds delighted with the idea and her fingers trace up your arm. “I think the princess had a hand in this. For the love of date cakes,” she teases.

“It was Oberyn,” you admit, laughing at how right Ellaria is about your craving. “But I am certainly not upset about it.”

“I would be delighted to stay.” Your father perks up at the mention of Dornish food. “It has been some time since I have had a good Dornish meal. The cooks would alter the recipes at home to their tastes.” He huffs, aware that his mother had written them done very specifically.

“Salin is extraordinarily talented.” Even Margaery is looking forward to the meal, having been fully converted to the cuisine of her new home with the first meal she tried. “He prepared the feast we are the night Raeden and I were wed and I have never tasted anything more magnificent.”

“Then I am eager to sample this cooking. My Marlee was a magnificent cook and I would often tease her that she would make a fortune selling her food.” Your father hums, knowing no one would fault him for speaking of his soulmate.

“I would like to hear more of her, if you are willing.” Speaking of Marlee seems to soothe your father and you must admit to being curious about the woman who could have been your mother.

“She was always smiling, always humming a little tune under her breath while she worked.” He tells you. “Making these delicious little tarts. I could eat a hundred of them.”

"How did you meet?" There is tea from the keep's kitchens while you await Salin's arrival with your dinner, and you offer a seat in front of the fire to your father.

“In Dorne.” He looks over at you fondly, smiling with the bittersweet smile of a man who is remembering a better time. “We had traveled back for my grandfather’s funeral. Mother was beside herself and my father could not leave. So I volunteered to escort her.” He had been brash and young, but already a good soldier. Handy with a sword. “I was bored by the grieving in the house, so I had snuck down to the kitchens.” He sighs. “She was baking. Flour on her cheek and singing a song as she mixed bread dough.”

“She worked for Grandmother’s family?” That is a surprise, and certainly makes you wish you had been bold enough to tell him about Raeden sooner. He would have been far more sympathetic than you knew.

“Yes.” He nods, his eyes sliding over to where Raeden is sitting with Margaery. “Although I think your path was leading you here.” He tells you, knowing what is whirling in that clever mind of yours. “She was beautiful. Raven black hair and yet…she had green eyes. The color of a watery jade.”

“So you fell in love over a secret meeting and a loaf of bread?” There is nothing sad or even melancholy in the life you have now, so you try to keep the conversation happy.

“The scar on my neck.” He pulls down the edge of his undershirt and his robe to expose the old, silvery scar. “It was new and fresh. Her dress showed it.” He shares a knowing grin with Oberyn. “She was mine from the first moment.”

“That sounds terribly romantic,” Margaery sighs, still softly envious of anyone who knows their soulmate or who has ever known them. “To have such definitive proof. To never wonder. It sounds remarkable.”

Her husband tightens his hold around her, offering her comfort. Everyone in this room knows that Margaery’s soulmate died without her ever knowing who it was. “If matching marks are ever discovered.” He murmurs softly. “They will be welcomed into our home.” It is the least he could offer considering the two sets of marks he bears, and the relationships he has with both women.

“If I ever have a set of marks appear?” Margaery nuzzles against him, glancing over at you before looking back to his eyes. “I hope that they will be yours or Star’s.”

“I would wear three sets of scars proudly.” He murmurs, bumping his nose against her cheek and then kissing her lips.

“As would I.” If the gods ever saw fit to give you three soulmates, you could not be happier to have one of them be Margaery.

“You are too generous.” Despite her inexperience, she has come to love to dynamic between the three of you especially, although she also enjoys time with Ellaria and Oberyn. Even if Oberyn had not yet fucked her.

“The gods have twice blessed you, pumpkin.” Your father chuckles. He still not quite understand the dynamic at play, but has decided that as long as you are happy, he does not need to. “To heap more upon you would be showing favoritism.”

“I would not expect anything less from gods concerning Star.” Ellaria chuckles quietly. She winks at you. “Perhaps the gods will send another wonderful person into Margaery’s life to add to our blessings.”

Glancing over at your husband, you bite back a grin and you wink at his as he so often does to you. "We will need a bed the size of you entire chamber if we continue to add members to our group."

You father clears his throat, reminding himself that he does not need to ask questions about things he does not wish to know. You are happy, and that is a rarity in life. “Dinner will be delightful, I’m sure.”

"It will." Leyth appears in the doorway, blessedly distracting from your embarrassment and ushering in Salin with his baskets upon baskets of delicious food.

“Salin, you outdo yourself every time.” Ellaria rises graceful and moves to greet the man with a charming smile and a hug. “Oberyn tells us you will be sailing back to Dorne with us?”

"The prince has most graciously offered to allow me to return home with your party." His hand is over his heart as he sets down the baskets from his other arm and Ellaria begins to unload them all over the large dining table. "I am most grateful to be able to see my family again."

“You must join us tonight.” Oberyn decides, motioning to the table. “We will be spending time together in much less spacious confines, let us drink and celebrate with delicious food tonight.”

"I could not impose--" Salin begins, but you immediately shake your head to stop him.

"Please," you insist, motioning for everyone to gather around the table. "We will not stand on ceremony tonight, but feast and celebrate as friends and family. We insist."

Looking around the table, Salin sees nothing but encouraging smiles and the murmurs of agreement, and he nods. "Your Graces are very kind. It would be my honour to join you."

There is something familiar about the young man. It tugs at your father’s thoughts but he tries to dismiss it as simply being nostalgic for his soulmate and everything to do with a culture he had much preferred to the rigid standards of the North.

Sitting down together at the table is indeed like an odd group of friends and family, but it is welcoming for that. Cal and Leyth join you instead of eating separately. Ellaria's mood is bright and boisterous. She speaks with Oberyn and Salin of home with such nostalgia that your father practically sighs with longing, and the rest of you who have never been to Dorne are hanging on every word.

Raeden leans back, watching the group with a smile as he strokes Margaery’s arm. Looking at the group that he has come to care for very much and squirms slightly in anticipation for things to come. It was not as if he had meant to wait to be with Oberyn. The moment had just never really come to be quite yet, but he want it so badly he cannot wait for the night to continue.

“I hope you will all forgive the indulgence,” Salin is saying as he begins to unpack the beautiful containers of sweet treats he prepared for dessert. “I have catered to her Grace’s cravings for our final course. Date cakes, figs with soft cheese, honey soaked fried dough, and crispy pastry with honey and nut filling. All of the princess’s favourites that I have been fortunate to discover so far.”

“Salin.” Your eyes grow as wide as saucers at the spread, practically giggling with glee. “You are far too kind and far too indulgent.”

The pastry with honey and nut filling makes your father tilt his head curiously as he finishes up his own meal. Easily enjoying the best Dornish meal he has had since he has been to the country. Watching as you pile a clean plate high with the delicacies with an indulgent chuckle.

“Try them, Papa.” You insist, moving the plate of crispy, sticky pastry toward your father. “I promise you will not be disappointed. Salin is a magician.”

Once offered, your father eagerly reaches for the pastry, likening it to one he has had many years ago and takes a bite quickly. "Mmmmmhhhhh." The moan is immediate and louder than he would have normally given over any good food. "I-- this tastes exactly like the tarts my soulmate would make."

“Are they traditional?” The question is for anyone at the table who would know - Salin, of course, but Oberyn or Ellaria, too.

“Not especially, your Grace.” Salon’s expression is apologetic. “They are a family recipe. My mother would make them for special dinners. Birthdays, usually.”

"This-- this is exactly like Marlee would make." Your father groans again after another bite. "She added a touch of anise. Not too much or it would overpower the nuts, she always said." He shoves the rest of the tart into his mouth and reaches for another.

Confused, Salin tilts his head and watches as your father seems entranced by the sweets. “You knew my mother?” He asks, not entirely sure how that could be.

The air is sucked out of the room and the tart in his hand falls to the table as your father's head whips around to gape at the man who had served the food. "Your mother?" He chokes out. "Your mother is Marlee Sand?"

“I—yes?” Confused even further as to why this fact has caused such a reaction in the older nobleman, Salin nods. “Marlee Brude, after marrying my sisters’ father. But she was born Marlee Sand.”

"She-- she's dead." The blood rushes to his ears and his head is swimming as he rolls his eyes over to you desperately. "She told me she was dead." He whispers, begging you to confirm that your mother told him that his soulmate was killed.

“I am sure it is a coincidence.” Although, which your father clutching your hand so tightly, your confidence wanes. “Sand is the most common name in Dorne. And surely Marlee is—”

“Is an unusual name.” Ellaria cuts in, glancing between the two of you and Salin. “Not unheard of, but not common.”

“And my mother is very much alive,” Salin adds, still not quite understanding what is happened. “I had a letter from her not a fortnight ago.”

"I don't understand.." He shakes his head, clinging to you and looking at Salin with a more critical eye before he gasps. "Boy." He barks, although Salin is a man grown and not a boy. "Do you have your mother's eyes or your fathers?" He demands.

Salin huffs, being well past thirty years of age and no longer a boy. “My father’s, according to my mother. Much good though that may do me.”

“Pumpkin.” He reaches for your jaw and cradles it gently as he looks from your eyes, his eyes, and then towards the man who shares those eyes. “How-- is it possible?” He whispers quietly.

"You cannot be my father, sir, no matter how much coincidence maybe at play tonight." It is all a little too much for Salin, and he pushes away from the table with a frown. "My father was some far-flung Northern lord who chose money over his soulmate. He married a shrew of a woman and never gave my mother a second thought."

That makes him frown, shaking his head and letting go of your chin to stand, swaying slightly at the revelation that this is his son sitting in front of him. “I can swear on my honor I have thought of your mother every day I have been apart from her.” He tells Salin. “I was led to believe that she had returned to Dorne when my betrothal was announced, as I was trying to convince my father to let me marry Marlee.”

"It cannot be." The color drains from Salin's face even as he stands to face your father. His father? There is something familiar reflected in the older man's face that makes him hesitate, but as he glances away to try to take a shaky breath, his eyes fall on your father's neck. Or - specifically - on the decades old scar that mars his skin. It is that scar that makes him gasp and his eyes dart up to the older man's again. "Tell me how you got that scar." He demands.

“A small skirmish on the northern boarder of our lands when I was young.” It was the first time he had killed a man, and he had barely escaped with his life. He had told Marlee about it one night after sex, her giggling as he had re-enacted it completely nude. He sees that Salin might believe him. “Have you see it before?”

"Do you know what truly happened to the Marlee Sand that you knew?" There is anger there, or at least frustration and surprise, and Salin bristles slightly when your father's story matches what his mother told him of the scar she wears from her soulmate. "Why she returned to Dorne?"

“My bitch of a wife had confessed just weeks ago that she had paid a solider to have her killed.” Your father’s anger rides across his face, a dark storm cloud of emotions that has him curling his fists. He had missed Marlee for years and then mourned her over the past weeks, now to find out she was still living? It is almost too much to bear.

"That soldier had a change of heart." Salin murmurs, feeling the impossibility of the situation slam through him with determination. "He told her to run, and she did." His shoulders hunch, disbelief clouding his features as he shakes his head. "I am Salin Sand because she was driven from your lands. It was many years before she even acknowledged a man's attention. My sisters are young, yet. Young like Lady Sunstone."

The chair in front of him is the only thing that keeps his kneels from buckling as your father learns his soulmate is really alive. Still bearing no marks from her on his body, he had never considered she was alive. “Son.” He chokes out, nearly sobbing at the fact that this man is his grown son. “Tell me she is well. That she is happy?”

Before Salin can even think, he finds himself embracing your father - his father - with tears pooling in his eyes. "I think she will be again," he admits, shaking a little as he processes everything that has happened today. He has gone from simply being able to return home to returning home with his father. "She has been a widow these last few years, but I know she has never forgotten you. In fact--" He pulls away just enough to look at the scar again, fully digesting its existence and the existence of the man who wears it. "She had sent me to learn of you. That...that is why I left Dorne."

“She-- you did?” He’s astonished because he had never seen you before tonight. “I-- did you ever come to the Vale?” He asks, immediately suspicious of his bitch of a wife. Even if she hadn’t rubbed the knowledge of his bastard son in his face, she might have sent him away and never let him know.

“I was robbed on my first night in King’s Landing.” Salin sighs. “I opened my stall in the marketplace as a way to earn the money to return home, but clearly I have been unsuccessful.” Living hand to mouth is difficult for anyone, but it had been particularly embarrassing to have to live in his stall the first few weeks. Things had improved, but not enough. Not until Prince Oberyn.

“I-- I didn’t know of you.” He tells him, hating that they had pulled apart to continue talking. Even as the rest of the table looks on with great curiosity, he only had eyes for his eldest child. “Or I would have- I would have brought her home.” He knows that marriage wouldn’t have been allowed but Marlee and Salin would have been safe, protected and loved.

“It seems I was meant always to have sisters.” The younger man laughs, finally looking over to where you are still sitting - dumbfounded - at the table before his eyes cut back to his father. “Mother will be glad to know you have not forgotten her.”

“I will-- would you allow me to see her?” His eyes are hopeful but there may be too much resentment there to let it be possible. The idea of seeing his soulmate again has him wishing he was already in Dorne.

“It will be up to her.” Even as a young boy who wished to defend her, Salin understood that his mother was strong enough to choose her life for herself. “I have already sent a raven home to tell her that I will be returning with the prince and princess. She will be waiting at the docks for my arrival. I only ask that you allow me to tell her you are there first. To not ambush her.”

It is nearly a miracle that he does not make himself lightheaded, he is nodding so quickly. “Of course.” He agrees before he looks around the table at the rest of the group. “Would you--” he clears his throat. “Would you like to come to my chambers?” He asks, knowing you are eager to celebrate with your husband and he wants to talk to Salin more. “I have wine, or stronger spirits. We can talk?” He is hopeful, biting his lip as he looks at the son that he has missed out on his entire life with. Wishing to know everything about him.

“You are not going anywhere until I am allowed to embrace my oldest brother.” The idea of all of it has overwhelmed you, but the smile on your face is soft and dreamlike. How utterly right that your father should be able to have again what had been stolen from him. That he will have the chance to know his eldest child.

Salin seems almost shocked that you would be wanting a hug, but he’s opening his arms immediately and moving towards the woman who he now knows is his sister. “Gladly. Without you and the prince, this would not be.”

“We will all have time to get to know each other much better on the voyage home.” The warmth of the embrace is genuine — two shocked individuals taking what is in front of them and fully accepting it head on. “And I hope you will find it a comfortable thing to call us by our given names now that we are family.”

“It-- it will take time, Princess.” Salin admits with a small smile as he pulls back. “Perhaps his feelings will change once we change his last name to mine.” Your fathers interjects. “If he is willing to be claimed.”

“We will have that conversation.” There are many mixed feelings that Salin has had about his father over his lifetime. Now, with an entire family being offered to him, the thing he wants first is simply to know this man. “But tonight, let us simply begin to know each other. More will come in time.”

“Come.” The older man nods and motions towards the door. “If we talk too late into the night, there is another bed you can sleep in if you have no wish to walk the roads of King’s Landing.”

It is almost surreal to watch your father and brother step away together. The tension that had filled the room seems to dissipate all at once, and you fall down again in your seat beside Raeden with a sigh. “That was…unexpected.”

“Completely astounding.” Oberyn muses thoughtfully, still reclined in his chair and shaking his head. “Fate is playing in your life, Star. The Gods have truly taken an interest.”

______

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monikafilefan · 3 months

Text

Jingle Bells and Jealousy 2

Through the years, we all will be together

If the fates allow

Scully is trying incredibly hard to enjoy herself tonight, humming along to Sinatra, doing her best to refrain from scanning the masses in hopes of seeing Mulder’s distinguished profile amongst the crowd. He’d said he wasn’t coming and she unfortunately believes him. Forced merriment hides her disappointment well. Smiling politely behind her wine glass at coworkers she barely knows, going out of her way to wish A.D. Kersh and his wife a Merry Christmas. She prays her cheery disposition shines a positive light upon, not only herself, but her partner as well. Wherever the hell he is, she thinks, frustrated with herself as much as she is with him.

Hang a shining star upon the highest bough

And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

She tunes out the music to contemplate whether her unintentional evasiveness with Mulder regarding her “date” is the catalyst they need after his concussed “I love you” line in Bermuda she can’t stop thinking about, or just intentionally deceptive on her part. The flame of possessiveness that flared within his eyes when he’d assumed she was dating had sparked intrigue in her own. The fact that she was initially referring to him as her date to Skinner had flown right over her brilliant partner’s head. Throwing accusations her way should have just pissed her off, but it’s been his heated reaction in the aftermath that’s left her oddly reassured in his jealousy. She’d left the bullpen feeling wanted in ways she only fantasizes about alone in bed at night as her fingers slip between her thighs.

Her heart races at that thought.

Not since her rebellious run-in with Jerse has she seen her partner similarly flustered, and she’d be lying if she said it doesn’t thrill her. With Diana Fowley’s unwelcome presence continuously prodding at Scully’s penchant for jealousy, she’d selfishly allowed Mulder’s imaginative mind to run wild with the ridiculous idea that she has somehow found the will to date someone who isn’t him.

Scully bites her lip as guilt churns up waves of nausea in her gut.

“Merry Christmas, Agent Scully,” Agent Fields, whom she recognizes from the bullpen, interrupts her thoughts. The strong scent of bourbon on his breath makes her rock back on her heels. She supposes he’s been drinking from the punch bowl she’d spotted Tom Colton spiking earlier. “Where’s Spooky?”

“Merry Christmas,” she sighs wearily into her wine glass and walks away.

She’s leaving, she decides, as she squeezes her way through the throng of swaying bodies and twinkling decor. She doesn’t really want to be here without Mulder by her side anyway. She’s turned down three drunken dance offers already and Kersh could care less if she’s here to play nice in hopes of getting off desk duty. The more time she spends at this party, the more she wishes she was lounging on Mulder’s couch, sharing cartons of bad Chinese, and watching A Christmas Story.

“Oh!” she squeaks in surprise, bumping into the stalwart chest of the man moving toward her. Her wine spills over the rim of her glass as they nearly knock one another from their feet. “I’m so sorry!”

“No, no!” he laments, holding her close as she finds her footing. “Agent Scully, it’s me who’s sorry. I saw you coming, but I couldn’t move. It’s like a mosh pit in here,” he laughs.

She chuckles in return. “Well, it seems we both got caught in the crowd.”

Holiday music continues to play far too loudly for those who aren’t three sheets to the wind as the man she now realizes is Special Agent Derek Jenkins from the fingerprint lab leans close to hear. He’s a new hire in the lab. A sweet, handsome man who has flirted shamelessly with her three times in the last week… and still, she remains unequivocally uninterested.

“Agent Jenkins, hello.”

“Call me Derek, please.” He steers her towards an empty corner, cupping her dripping wine glass with his palm. “Let me help you.”

“Oh, that’s not necess-” Before Scully protests further, the agent spins around and snags a Santa-shaped napkin from one of the mini round tables sprinkled about the reception hall, thrusting it her way. “I appreciate it.”

He waves a finger by her head. “You have a splash of wine in your hair there. By your eye.” Flustered, Scully swipes the napkin through her hair. “Missed it. I’ll get it.”

He reaches up to pinch the stray strand soaked with wine between his fingertips and tucks it behind her ear.

“Thanks, Agent Jen- Derek.” Hiding her embarrassment, she takes a step back, her shoulder knocking a bundle of mistletoe to the floor that was taped on the wall. She sighs, “I’m not usually this uncoordinated.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Derek grins brightly and picks up the plastic flower, twirling it around his finger. If she’d met him sooner, say six years and one Fox Mulder ago, she could have easily been swept off her feet by his charm. “Where’s Agent Mulder? I mean, uh, not to be abrupt, but you’re not with someone, are you?”

The hopeful gleam in his brown eyes makes her blush. The earnest, puppy dog look of them mimics Mulder when he awaits her opinion on whether or not a case is an X-File.

“I…” Scully finds she has no idea how to answer that layered question without a hint of honesty, and Christmas seems like a terrible time to lie.

Is she with someone? Her mind rewinds to moments of commitment she’d made in the past: shaking her new partner’s hand, risking her life multiple times to keep him that way, then telling him she wouldn’t change a day.

“I suppose I am,” she finally says.

Scully expects her face to flush at the admission. Expects the entirety of the FBI to turn and point at Mrs. Spooky as they collect their bets. Instead, she’s oddly at peace with her confession to someone she hardly knows.

Derek nods in understanding, as if he’d already known the answer, giving her arms a gentle squeeze. “So for clarity’s sake, you’re not interested in pursuing a relationship with… let’s say, someone like me. Not when you’re already in one.”

Scully licks her lips, her breath catching.

She could deny the unyielding hold Mulder has held on her heart since March of ‘93. They’ve never even kissed, for God’s sake. But after years of living and breathing for only each other, she can’t. She won’t.

So she smiles instead, “I suppose not.”

“Your partner, then?” Derek mumbles to himself when instant awareness pulls his pout into a smirk.

Her silence is all the confirmation they need as she and Derek share a good-natured chuckle. This unexpected run-in has somehow left her more content in her feelings than she has in a while. Despite Scully’s unease of Diana’s position in Mulder’s past, personally and professionally, she can no longer repress the way her best friend completes her.

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time

Another song reverberates through the loudspeaker nearby. The upbeat tempo matches the buoyant shift in Scully’s mood. She barely registers that Derek’s arms are still bracketing hers, or the swift way he leans down to speak closer.

“I suppose I already knew that, but thank you for being honest with me. And with yourself too, it seems,” Derek says knowingly in her ear before pressing the mistletoe into her hand. “Merry Christmas, Agent Scully.”

At that moment, someone in the crowd loses their balance and bumps into Scully from behind, jolting her forward. Derek’s lips accidently graze the corner of her mouth, and remarkably, they both ignore the mishap as if it never happened. Being bounced around like holiday pin balls seems like a regular occurrence tonight.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” Scully replies and turns around just in time to see a flash of familiar green eyes narrowing in on hers.

What a bright time, it's the right time

To rock the night away

“Mulder?” Scully blinks and he’s gone, vanishing within the horde of ugly Christmas sweaters.

Scully’s heart hammers harder with every step she takes toward the opposite side of the room.

Mix and a-mingle in the jingling feet

That's the jingle bell

“Mulder!” she hollers, stretching on tip-toe to see where he’s gone. But it’s worthless. The music is too damn loud and the people too damn tall to make a difference.

That's the jingle bell

As she weaves her way through the maze of tinsel and blow-up reindeer decor, she spots Skinner wiping frosting from his candy cane tie at the dessert table. No wonder she’d never seen Mulder all the way back here. She’s trembling, rubbing her arms with worry by the time she reaches the A.D.. Panic at the realization of what Mulder must have seen and misinterpreted practically radiates through the fuzz of her green sweater.

That's the jingle bell

“Agent Scully, glad to see you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Sir, have you seen Mulder?” she blurts.

Skinner frowns down at an ink-stained paper plate he’s holding with black horns drawn atop Santa’s head. “He left already?”

Her eyes slip shut.

That's the jingle bell rooock

***

Scully shivers as she walks down the snow-dusted sidewalk. Her heels clack purposefully along the pavement, her heart beating in time with her vapored puffs of breath. She’s winded by the time she spots Mulder’s car idling at the curbside. The buttery light from the streetlamp above slices through the thick snowflakes pouring from the sky and illuminating his downcasted profile.

Scully knocks on the window.

Mulder startles, turning his forlorn stare onto hers peering in from the passenger side. He mouths her name in confusion and leans across the car to push open the door for her.

“Hey,” he says, surprised, as she climbs in and shuts the door. “Scully, you’re freezing. Where’s your coat?”

She shrugs and flexes her cold fingers in front of the blast of heat coming through the vents. “Inside where I left it.”

He’s silent for a moment. They both are, as a somber tone falls around them like the snow outside. Mulder frowns and reaches over to gently cradle her icy hands between his. They’re big and warm, and God, she practically melts the moment his plush lips drag across her fingertips.

“You came,” she whispers.

Her voice catches the moment she notices through the dimness how impressively handsome he is tonight. His black tux is taut in all the right places, hugging his strong shoulders and toned thighs perfectly.

He rubs the hot huffs of his breath into her knuckles as his honey-green eyes silently study her. “Where you go, I go, right?”

Her stomach twists tourniquet tight.

This guilt and aggravation is making her nauseous. After Antarctica, Scully knows exactly how true his statement is. She also knows she has every right to date whoever she wants and kiss whomever she pleases. But that’s not what she’s been doing, and as much as she has considered that option previously out of self-preservation, she’s never actually done either of those things for a reason. Even during the darkest days of their partnership, she has never yearned for anyone but him.

Scully laces her fingers through his. “I know.”

“Scully…”

“Shh.” She cuts him off with a bold nuzzle of her chin against their tangled hands, her free one reaching up to straighten his crooked bowtie. “You’re so handsome.”

He chuckles darkly. “Seems as though the Christmas casual memo never made it to my inbox.”

“You wouldn’t have read it anyway,” she teases.

“Ah, you know me well.”

They both smirk, their faces only inches apart, their thumbs gliding easily across one another’s. It seems two glasses of wine have softened her edges and weakened her resolve to keep her hands to herself. Wind whistling as it blows over the hood of the car breaks their locked gaze. The snow is falling faster now, layering the Taurus’s windshield in a pillowy white blanket.

Mulder squeezes her hand.

“I’m sorry, Scully.” His voice breaks. She closes her eyes and squeezes right back. “I’m sorry about a lot of things. But about what I said earlier, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to point fingers — pencils, actually,” he chuffs.

“Mulder.” Her tone conveys how much she finds his apology unnecessary in light of her own envious reactions in recent months. “I know that, too.”

“Being honest, all I want is for you to be happy. No matter who you’re with. But I thought after what happened my hallway it would’ve… Well, I was caught off guard by the thought of you dating,” he mutters with a shrug. “That’s my problem, though. Not yours, Scully.”

“I think I know what you saw in there that upset you, Mulder, but I can assure you it’s not what you’ve assumed.” Her tongue sweeps across her lip. “There was no date. There was no kiss.”

“You- there wasn’t?”

She looks him square in the eyes, because there is no one else.

“No, Mulder. I ran into Agent Jenkins — literally, and we talked. And I have to confess that I realized when you questioned me in the bullpen, I liked that you were territorial of me. It made me feel… vindicated.”

“Because of Diana.” It’s not a question but a statement born of recognition.

Scully nods, her face flushing. “But I only ever wanted to spend tonight with you.”

“Maybe Skinner was right. I do need to pull my head outta my ass,” he mumbles. Her brow arches at that. “I just thought I saw you and Jenkins…”

“But you didn’t.”

“Not really my business, though.” His curious eyes search hers. “Is it?”

She leans forward to rest her cheek against the edge of his headrest. He senses her tactile need and palms her jaw with the hand not clutched within her own. She turns into him as she contemplates her response, cascading her mouth across his thumb. It feels so good, but it’s not only his touch that has her pulse fluttering like a hummingbird, it’s all of him. It’s always been him.

“What if I want it to be?”

“That depends… is that you or the wine talking?”

She scoffs, “ Mulder -”

“How do you feel about me, Scully?” His pout twitches as he stares at her. Into her, with such unfiltered affection Scully’s heart can barely endure it all. “Because I know exactly how I feel about you. You’re my favorite person. My best friend, my one and five billion. And, I love you.”

Tears sting her eyes and her stomach swoops to her knees. She’s warm, flushed, as if her partner is the sun and he has finally shone his rays upon her upturned face.

“God, Mulder.”

“ Head injury aside, I meant what I said in Bermuda.” His forehead touches hers. “I fell in love with you, Scully.”

“W-when?” Her chest is suddenly so tight she can barely breathe. “When did you…”

“Uh, I don’t… I’m not really sure. I just know I did.”

She nods against him, because nodding is all she can do as her heart races and eyes blur. Because she’d wanted to believe his endearing words in Bermuda badly, but she was too afraid to risk it all on her misguided hope. Because as intense and frustrating as their inseparability is sometimes, their connection defies the laws of nature: the sky is blue, the sun is bright, and Scully endlessly loves Mulder.

“Scully?”

“I-” Her lashes flutter away tears. God, she’s dizzy, knowing what she’s about to do next. “I think I’ve always been in love with you, Mulder.”

He inhales sharply, maybe a little surprised by her candor. But then his hand is cradling the back of her arched neck and pulling her into a tight hug, his other arm wrapping around to caress the small of her back. “Scully.”

“You’re the only one, Mulder,” she whispers fiercely as she hugs him back, her cold nose pressed into the warmth of his neck. “You’re my one and five billion, too.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that outside of my dreams,” he whispers into her hair and rocks her back and forth along the seats, quivering in her grip as they cling to each other.

Scully presses a lingering kiss to the humming pulse point in his neck. She can feel his rushing adrenaline thundering under her lips. She smiles, her own heart racing, a little lightheaded after uttering secrets of her heart aloud. But relief of her confession rises like bubbles beneath her skin because she has said it to Mulder: the man she trusts and loves more than anyone.

Mulder pulls back and looks at her. She knows her eyes are wide and wet, her cheeks pink as she tips her chin upward, aching for him to kiss her. “I have mistletoe,” he says wryly.

Scully laughs and reaches into her pocket, pulling out the one she’d knocked from the Bureau’s wall. “Me too.”

He grins, nodding to his own red and green flower shoved in the car’s ashtray. “You think we need them?”

The husk in his voice vibrating against her jaw pulls a deep moan from her mouth. “Mulder, please. ”

He moans back while peppering soft, tender kisses across her jawline, up her cheek, and to the corner of her parted lips. She clutches his tux in her fists and gives it an impatient tug as his mouth finally melds with hers. Their kissing is gentle, insistent, and the way their tongues glide against one another sends tingles straight down her spine.

“Come with me tomorrow,” she mumbles in his mouth. Her eagerness may surprise him, but she wholeheartedly means it. She can’t and won’t hide the thinly veiled tone of desperation. She is desperate for him, after all. “Come to my mother’s.”

“Tomorrow’s Christmas, Scully.”

“I know.” Her hand dips beneath the jacket of his tux to splay her hand over his racing heart. “Christmas won’t mean anything without you, Mulder.”

His chin trembles. “Where you go, I go.”

Scully nearly sobs in relief. She dips her chin to hide her swollen-lipped smirk within the lapel of his tux.

“What're you thinking?” She feels the heat of his breath tickling her skin, his rumbling voice seeping deep into her bones.

Scully thinks that their partnership is not a mundane pairing. That it’s an intricately weaved relationship, a mass of fine-tuned threads tying them together. But she knows she cannot imagine a life without him in it.

“I think…” she lingers with her words, staring at their discarded mistletoe meant for only each other. “I think you should kiss me again, Mulder.”

“Again and again,” he promises before his mouth passionately possesses hers, their bodies tangling like twine.

“More,” she husks, and Mulder’s long leg bumps the radio’s dial, blasting “Jingle Bell Rock” through the speakers.

“And to think I thought I hated this song,” he quips with a nip to her bottom lip, kissing her again and again, just like he’d promised, until the fog on the windows is as thick as the love between them.

That’s the jingle bell rooock

#msr fanfic #chapter 2/2 #scully’s pov #angst #romance #christmas

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merakiui · 5 months

Note

….do you ever think about academic rivals with jade?

YES. OTL academic rivals with Jade, but he's always the first one to have checked out the specific books you need from the library. Every time you ask if they have [insert mushroom textbook here], the librarian just frowns at you and tells you, "Sorry. Another student's already borrowed it. Should have it in by next week." But you need this specific textbook now. How else are you going to be able to write your report on various fungi species if that book is the only one that goes into detail on a very ancient species that you can't read about anywhere else?

It doesn't take you long to find out the current owner. All you needed to ask was, "Do you know who's using [insert mushroom textbook here]?" and everyone points you in his direction. Jade Leech. The two of you have a bit of a history. You're both academically intelligent, always within the top brackets for exam scores. He's abysmal in flight class, which is really the only hold you have over him when it comes to your unspoken competition. You absolutely tease him for this, but he teases back just as playfully when he catches you fumbling. <3

You met at the entrance ceremony in your first year. While Floyd was busy causing a commotion and getting his ass handed to him by Riddle, you were boasting to some friends about how you were certain you'd be sorted into [insert your dorm of choice here]. Jade had overheard and slinked over to wish you luck on your placement. You'd grinned at him and said, "I don't need luck when I know I'm right." You hit him right in his eel heart with that line..... oh, he's so intrigued.

Much to your chagrin, you're placed in Octavinelle LOL. So not only do you compete on an academic playing field with Jade, you compete as dorm members as well. Jade isn't nearly as competitive as Floyd, but when the mood strikes he's oh-so-willing to play. And you are by far his favorite plaything. He'll entertain silly competitions, if only because it gives him the opportunity to talk with you more. So he's immensely pleased when you storm into the botanical gardens to demand he relinquish the textbook for one day so you can use it. Jade pretends to consider it before smiling coyly and asking, "Shall we share it instead?"

And now you're standing side by side, shoulders nearly brushing, while reviewing the material. Jade could help you with your report, just so you know. :) he's the only other student writing about this topic for Professor Crewel's class. Why not review one another's work? Peer review is a very important part of the process, after all! You'd never willingly work with your rival, especially not when you're determined to submit the better paper on mushrooms and get a better grade than Jade, but somehow you agree. And somehow you're meeting Jade at his room to discuss papers. You're only here for academics and it's a one-time thing! Jade smiles like he doesn't believe you for a second, but he doesn't dignify your self-gaslighting with a response. He's just happy to be able to hang out with you.

Of course Floyd is also there to provide not-so-helpful commentary like: "Want me to get lost so you two can get to fuckin'?" or "Lame. When Jade said you were comin' over, I didn't think you'd be usin' studyin' for foreplay." T_T thank you for the input, Floyd.

And of course Jade flirts with you in that weird, coquettish Jade way. orz but you're certain this is just a sly tactic your rival's employing to distract you so that he can improve his paper!!! >:O from then on, any attempts at flirting are scrutinized heavily. You cannot imagine a world where Jade Leech loves you, but then that same Jade Leech is the first one at your table when you visit the lounge, always providing you with the best service. Azul and Floyd know it's favoritism, but to anyone else you're just seen as the poor soul Jade's taken a shine to. That same Jade Leech is meeting you after class when it’s dismissed to wish you luck on the upcoming exams and to offer a study session. That same Jade Leech is cultivating various fungi and flowers that remind him of you.

Most of all, that same Jade Leech, your academic rival since first year, is leaving little study baskets at your dorm door every time a big exam rolls around because he knows you neglect your health. But he's still just your rival! That's all he is! You're certain of this! (denial)

#twisted chit chat

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animelovelover123 · 30 days

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V's Yandere Alphabet

Synopsis/Author's Note: I was planning to make one of these for all the boys but this took me 6 months and I lost steam fast so this might be the only one you guys get.

The yandere alphabet template I am using was made by no gender bee on tumblr.

P.S. It took me until posting this that this is not the full alphabet, lol.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction for personal entertainment. If you are reading this, please understand that drawing/writing/reading/imagining things of this nature does NOT equate to desiring or supporting real-world assault.

Abuse = Could they ever hurt you physically or mentally? What would be the reason?

Physically? No. Mentally, kind of. He would not do it with the intent of causing harm, but some of V’s mental manipulation can hurt. He’ll pull at your heartstrings, saddle you with guilt, and talk in circles to get you to comply with his wishes all while using flowery language to mask the manipulative web he is weaving.

A big one, and the most common form of mental strain he gives you, is when he is desperate for attention and at the end of his rope. He will plead for it, reminding you that neither of you knows how long he has left to live and that he only wants to spend it with you. He does this to show you how much you mean to him, but he is also aware that he is inciting guilt in you. He does not realize how deeply and long it can affect you though until you tell/show him.

Both = You are a Yandere too, what’s their reaction?

V is intrigued and finds it amusing at first. His obsessive tendencies take longer to form, and he also does not believe he will live long so he sees your invasive and manipulative actions as entertaining with no fear of long-term repercussions. Even if you think you are being sneaky, he sees everything you are doing and he enjoys watching your reactions as he either plays along with your schemes or effortlessly evades them.

But once he finds himself falling for you in return, he gets rather depressed. He sees how desperately you want him, yet he knows, no matter how much he wants you as well, that all of your attempts to show your love will be in vain. He’ll try to pull away from you, but the more you chase, the more he wants you.

Then he finds out a way to live longer and his restraints are finally broken. You and he revel in your shared obsession, happily lavishing each other with love and attention. He sees your quirks and views them as romantic gestures. He finds out you have been stealing his things? How it warms his heart to know you want him close at all times even when home alone. Why don’t we move in together darling to save you the trouble? You’ve cancelled his plans with others behind his back? Well, why didn’t you tell him you wanted a night alone? He would love nothing more. You’ve killed a supposed love rival? Snuffing out another's life just because they threatened to take his love, though not necessary as you already have his heart, is such a beautiful display of adoration that he just has to give you a reward~

Crazy = How easy do they enter crazy mode? How do they act when they are in it?

It takes a lot for this man to snap. He is the essence of calm and collected, able to keep his composure in circumstances where most would panic and/or become angry. You could rage at him before walking out the door claiming you will never return, and though he will put up a bit of a fight, he knows deep down that you are just lashing out. After you have time to calm down you will be back in his arms soon enough. Whether by your own means or his, that was yet to be seen. This man could be in the middle of getting arrested and he would comply because he knows that this is not the end. He could easily escape prison and find his way back to you. The only true end is death, and that is what will cause him to snap.

Not his own death per se as that mental break will be directed and contained to himself. If his plan for extended life starts failing, he will fight tooth and nail to survive while rushing through the stages of grief. The most this will affect you is that he will disappear for a while as he tries to find a solution before returning when he realizes there is no hope for him and begs you to stay with him until his last breath.

The true snapping point would be a result of your life almost being lost, particularly if you try to take your own. Knowing or, worse, catching you trying to end your life flips a switch in him. He already had a lot of stress from trying to preserve his own life, but when he realizes that he could lose the primary reason he fought so hard to live all of that effort, panic, and stress gets funneled into caring for you. Now that he perceives a proverbial ticking clock for both of your lives, he will no longer allow a single second to go by without you. He will lock you up in his home and become your caretaker, tying you up so you can’t hurt yourself and taking care of all of your needs himself like feeding you and bathing you. You are his everything, and he will not let a second of both of your possibly short lives not be spent together. (see K for Kidnapped for more details)

Difference = When can you notice different behaviour in them?

At first V’s yandere tendencies were subdued and easily hidden. For the first couple months of knowing you he was under the belief that he was not long for this world. His body was actively deteriorating and soon he would have to return to Vergil.

But then he found a way that he could continue living as his own person. Maybe through killing and absorbing Urizen’s life force rather than merging with it or by somehow stealing it from others. Either way, there was a chance for him to survive and pursue a relationship with you. That is when he changed and that is when you start noticing his obsession with you.

He won't totally indulge in his attraction to you until he has proof that this lead is viable, but he will suddenly become more affectionate. Where he once kept any compliments and flirtatious remarks shrouded in flowery language so that you could not quite tell if he meant it that way became more direct and regular. The few feet he always put between you two was shorted as much as you would allow.

When he does gain evidence that his plan for a longer life is working, all restraints are off. He immediately goes to you and confesses his love. He may even tell you right then his true origins, why they resulted in him being distant at first, and how now that he has a long life ahead of him he is excited to spend it with you.

Enjoy = Do they enjoy what they’re doing to you, your life and the people around you? Do they show it?

V does worry about how some of his actions affect you. He is a bit of a philosopher type, often getting lost in thoughts or conversations about the deeper meanings and effects things have on people and the world as a whole. He is also introspective so he will occasionally worry himself over what he is doing. This line of thought doesn’t only trigger when you show hints of discomfort or hesitation. You could be perfectly happy, but he is privy to the manipulation and trickery of his that you are falling for. He considers and speculates on how his actions could warp your mind in the long run. And when he pictures the worst-case scenario, he might just guilt himself into admitting to, and apologizing for, a recent misconception he gave you.

He did not say those things with malicious intent, he just wanted to protect you from the cruel world and keep you loving him.

Force = Are they willing to force you into loving them? How will they do it?

If you are a demon, to any extent, V will force you into a contract with him, assuming he is unsuccessful in his initial attempt at convincing you to join willingly. Depending on your battle prowess he will even call you to (relatively easy) fights along with his other familiars. Seeing you in battle is just as beautiful as seeing you dance to him so he will gladly do it as long as the risk of permanent harm is practically nonexistent. No matter how skilled you are in combat though, your primary duty as one of his demons is as a companion. With you being bound to him he can call you to him whenever he wishes to be with you, which is most of the time. He’ll try to offer you space and as much free will as he can, but the more obsessed he becomes the more he will abuse this power over you. One thing to note though is that he will not force you into romantic or sexual acts, even if he technically could through your contract. No matter how much he desired you, he would never hurt you in that way.

Alternatively, say you were a human. He would force you, again assuming you don’t fall for his flowery words, to take on a demon familiar. Not just any demon though. Specifically, he wants you to bond with one of his familiars. If you want more than that that is your prerogative, the more safety you have and empowerment you feel is only a boon, but being partially bonded to one of his familiars is his requirement. He tells you that he wants to keep you safe by giving you access to one, or more, of his demons for protection, and this is true. Though V is their primary master, V will willingly put himself at a disadvantage in battle by allowing you to call one of his familiars for protection. And if you don’t call them V will send them to you. He also advertises the practical benefits of having creatures at your beck and call. One aspect that he does not fully disclose though is how being bonded to a demon under his command also acts as a tracking device for when you try to run. (See H for Hide for more details.)

Gross = What is something they think is really romantic/sweet but is actually horrifying?

He writes letters and notes to you using his blood as ink. Sometimes it is just his signature coloured burgundy, and other times you find whole notes or poems scrawled in thin, inconsistently faded cursive which he delivers to your home or work with a bandaged arm.

He already puts his heart and soul into these letters. To him, offering part of his body with them shows you his complete devotion.

Hide = How easy is it to hide from them?

Depends on if he has bound you to one of his familiars yet.

First, let's assume he hasn't. Then, honestly, it’s pretty easy as he is but one man with not a lot of connections. He can send out his familiars to scan the area for you, but they can not go too far from V. That is only if he works alone though because the few connections he does have are with people who hunt down living creatures as their profession. Sure, hunting a demon is not quite the same as hunting a person down and his friends will initially question why you would run off, but V just has to string together a tail of how you are being influenced by a denizen of hell and that they must find you before it is too late. Sure enough, he will convince the morally just crew of demon hunters to find his love and now half a dozen people are calling in favours and travelling the country looking for you. And when they do find you, even if you try to tell them that you ran away from V willingly, V’s story has already cemented itself in their brains so they will drag you back anyway. A caveat to this plan is that the crew will get more and more suspicious if you run away multiple times and V keeps asking them for their help.

One of the benefits of binding you to one of his demons is that he won't have to risk growing doubt within his friends. With you bound to one of his demons (see F for Force for more details), no matter where in the world you run V can track your location by getting his familiar to appear around you, scan the area to gather information, and relay it to him. And when he is close enough, the familiar can just pin you down and call out like a siren so V can easily find you.

Improve = Will they be willing to recover from this psychotic state for their lover?

Working off of E for Enjoy, V can find the conviction to be better for you. The problem is that he does not really know how to be better. He has only existed as his own entity for a relatively short time and has no experience with having a healthy relationship. He has only ever had you and the, sometimes maddening, urges to be with you. But because of his overwhelming love for you and the fear that his actions risk harming you, he will work towards being better.

He has to look to healthier relationships, like Nero and Kyrie’s and what little memories of Sparda and Eva’s he retains from Vergil, to understand what they look like and how he himself is failing. And if he can’t make the headway he wishes, being unable to stop himself from telling you subtle lies and trying to monopolize your attention, he will talk to someone about his feelings and urges. He understands that he does not yet really understand how to be human and is not above asking for aid in learning, for his own well-being yes, but mostly for yours.

Justification = Why are they acting like that? When did it start?

Upon being created, V knew that he did not have long to live. Soon he would join with Urizen and become Vergil once more. When he first started to fall for you, he knew it would not last due to his minuscule lifespan so would not pursue a romantic relationship. He could not, however, stay away from you. You were like a work of art, so utterly perfect that it was a miracle you even existed in such a cold and cruel world. He tried to accept the brief moments of connection you shared as enough to have him return to Vergil without regrets, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

His body was failing though, crumbling away. Perhaps when he becomes whole again Vergil will be able to be with you. But that would not be the same for you or V, and he knew that.

And then, he found a way to continue living as his own person (See D for Difference for more context). Now he had a chance to have a life with you. But always lurking in the back of his mind is the fear that this means of sustaining his body and life will fail. He does not know when he will disappear or how quickly it could take him. This is why he needs to always be with you. He doesn’t know how much time he has left and he wants to spend as much of it with you as he can. You understand, don’t you darling?

Kidnap = Are they willing to kidnap you? If so how will they do it, for how long will they keep you away and where?

He will kidnap you if you make the drastic decision to try to end your own life (see C for Crazy for more context). He has given you the freedom to do what you want, far more than most yanderes would, despite the dangers in the world because he trusted you and himself to keep you safe. But now that even you are a danger to yourself, that shattered any trust V had.

When he finds out what you were trying to do, whether it be through catching you in the act or finding out in the aftermath of a failed attempt, he will bring you to his home. He will tell you, and anyone else privy to your attempt, that he wanted to give you a safe place where you can be monitored, rest, and offer an ear to which you can discuss your feelings and thoughts without judgment. And with him being your partner, if other people knew of your attempt, they would trust him to watch over you and stop you from trying this again. And that was exactly what he would do.

So you spend the night with V in his home where he refuses to leave your side for more than a minute at a time. It was understandable though, right? He was just shaken from what you tried to do. But when you woke up you found your wrists belted together, as were your ankles, and were chained to the bed’s headboard and one of the bed’s end legs respectively.

“My love, you are awake.” V greets as he enters the room, a bowl of oatmeal in his hand. “How wonderful it is to see your beautiful eyes finally open.” You can ask him what is going on, but no matter if you question him in fear, anger, or confusion, he will smile sympathetically as he helps you sit up. “I know this may be a bit frightening my dear, but this is all for your safety. You have somehow come to the heartbreaking and erroneous belief that you should not live and have become a danger to yourself because of it. But worry not, for I love you unconditionally and will care for you in your stead. Now, open up~” He coos as he holds out a spoonful of oatmeal.

V keeps you bound for as long as it takes for him to trust you not to attack him. Still, whenever he leaves the house he chains you to the bed to make sure you don’t try anything. Soon enough he stops going out, instead spending every waking moment coddling you. He feeds you by hand, dresses you, bathes you, and loves you through any bout of emotions, be they positive or negative. You don’t get to step foot outside until after you are knocked out by drugs and discreetly transferred to a new home out in some forest. Once there he will be willing to take you on walks, if you can prove you can behave. Even if you do try to escape though, the forest is enchanted so any human without a demon guide will be lost to endlessly loop through the same areas.

After years of living like this and proving that you don’t intend to leave him or harm yourself, you may just be lucky enough to find out how V was able to keep you locked up and disappear without anyone coming to look for you. You see, your friends and family were devastated when they heard from V that you had killed yourself by running off into a demon nest and letting yourself be eaten. And then it was unfortunate but unsurprising when V, now without the love of his life, spiraled into depression, became a recluse, moved away from the city where he and his love spent their time together, and soon after joined you in the afterlife.

“What a tragic tale, isn’t it dear?” He asks you with a proud smile on his face as he feeds you your lunch.

Love me = How will they make you say “I love you”?

He has no intention of forcing the words out of you. Instead, he sees your love in your actions so he does not need to hear the words themselves. If anything, if you were to say ‘I love you’ without complete sincerity he would see it as the complete opposite. You must be upset and/or unhappy in some way. Though he does not want to pry, if you keep forcing words of affection out it will eat away at him until you pleads for you to stop and instead tell him what it is that is driving you to hurt him like this.

Moving on = If you die or escape, will they be able to move on? How easy it’ll be for them?

You are his light, his world, and the number one reason that he fought to stay alive. If you were to leave him, he would be devastated. With you gone so is his will to live, and so he will follow you into the beyond. However, one deciding factor for how he will come to his end is why you met yours. If it was some unforeseen tragedy then he would chase after you into the next world immediately. But if your death was in any way his doing, he would drag out his death. Whether it be through starvation or letting his body deteriorate, whichever was more painful and a fitter punishment for the sins he has committed.

Alternatively, if you were to escape and he could not find you, his will would slowly drain. He would spend more time and energy looking for you and despairing over not being able to find you, he would neglect what he needs to do to stay alive. Slowly his failing body would wither away or, if the option is still available, he may just make a last-ditch effort to become whole again. He knows that death would be an easier option than reforming, but his lingering feelings may unconsciously drive Vergil to keep looking for you and you wouldn’t hide from Vergil, right? Knowing you were at least alive would give V’s broken heart and soul some levity while it rotted away somewhere inside Vergil.

Non-stop = How clingy will they be when you’re in a relationship? How possessive are they? And how much free space do they give you?

V will give you a great deal more space than most yandere’s. He is fine with you spending time with others, whether he is present or not. He will even allow you to go on multiple-day-long trips, like road trips or vacations, with others. Seeing you happy and hearing you excitedly recount your outings was a joy in it of itself for him. Hearing you talk with exuberance and seeing your radiant smile as you describe the event you attended, the activity you did, and the conversations you had was just enough to make missing you worth it. It also helps that he is an introvert so is more than okay with spending some time for himself.

There is a limit to this though. If you have a job or attend school then he can get by with having you in the morning and evening. He will encourage you and praise you for your hard work before and after each day while enjoying having you all to himself. But if, on top of this, you are going out with friends two or three days a week then he’ll get antsy. He won’t get in the way, but he will get a bit needy and clingy, doing things like wanting to walk you to and from places just to spend more time with you and inviting you on more dates and activities to offset how much you go out with others.

But if others try to take up more of your time than that, V will become a lot more proactive. Suddenly you start ‘forgetting’ your phone in the other room all the time, meaning you miss calls and texts. Your calendar and alarms start messing up more, giving you incorrect times and dates causing you to miss events. V seemingly becomes more worried about your well-being. Do you have a bit of a cough? Feeling warmer than usual? A bit of a headache? Well, then it is best if you stay home. Even if it seems small now, exserting yourself by going out could just make things worse. Besides, the weather report said it might rain. So just rest at home today, V will be there to care for you.

Other = Someone else speaks or flirts with you, how will they react?

V is usually very confident and trusting of you to not betray him so does not mind when others speak to you. He doesn’t blame the person either because you are a truly fascinating person that V can’t get enough of, so others wanting to get to know you is only logical. Other’s flirting with you is usually a similar story, as he trusted you implicitly. But that does not mean he is always complicit. If you or the person give him a reason to worry, such as you seemingly reciprocating that flirtation or the person overstepping boundaries, then V will act.

It won’t be a full-on assault, physically or verbally, it will be a subtle, insidious poison that he seeps into the bothersome person. Through his words he will gracefully belittle and insult the person while showcasing his superior knowledge and sharp wit. Most of his comments don’t even immodestly register as insults, instead, they will weigh the person down bit by bit until their confidence is but dust in the wind and they realize that they have no chance in besting V in his control over your heart.

Present = What presents do they usually give you? What’s the worst and best gift you got from them?

V is a classic, artistic romantic, so expect roses and poetry, sometimes simply a pre-written piece that reminds him of you and other times it is a personal poem written by him. He can also take this to the extreme though (See G for Gross). The both best and worst thing he has given you, depending on your perspective, is having you make a contract with one or multiple of his demons (See F for Force for more detail).

Risk = How risky will they be with getting rid of rivals?

V has no intention of killing anyone. He loves you and, though you may not see it now, he knows you love him too. But if he really feels the need to dispose of someone, he has to be careful. Not so much because he fears the police or the friends and family of the victim. They could easily be tricked and manipulated into cooperating. It was his own family and friends that posed a problem. Dante, Nero, Kyrie, they would never understand. They don’t understand how deep his love is for you. If they found out he killed someone to protect his relationship with you, they would try to intervene or, worst of all, try to get you away from him. V can’t risk that.

So he carefully plans out his assassination. He can’t use his familiars because there is a chance that as soon as the police/family realize the murder was done by a demon they may call Lady or Dante’s businesses for help and they can spot Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare’s work easily. And a physical altercation, even with the aid of weapons, would cause too much of a scene. So instead, V will kill with discreet methods, such as poison, or a disposable method, such as forming a contract with a demon, sending them out on their elimination mission, and then killing the new demon familiar so it could not be traced back to V.

Sweet = Even when they’re Yandere they can be sweet. What’s their sweet Yandere side?

You are his world, his everything, and he will tell you that often. Every day he tells you and shows you how much he appreciates you and all you do, for him and others. Being able to wake up beside you, spend time with you, and hold you at night is a blessing that he will always cherish, no matter how long you are together.

Type = What type of Yandere are they?

Going off of the Yandere Fandom Wiki’s list, V would mostly be a Manipulative Yandere (Focuses on working a series of situations to prevent losing their love.) with a bit of a Submissive Yandere (Only in love with one specific person and will carry out any task asked of them.).

V has a way with words and with his ability to stay calm and collected no matter the intricate lies he is weaving, he will subtly manipulate you into things like spending more time with him and fending off anyone who seriously threatens your relationship (See O for Other for more details). He won’t just have you wrapped around his finger, as he will also make others question themselves or change their mind through his poetic, complex, cryptic wording. This can range from telling your family and friends that they should not make you go to some even, claiming things like how tired and stressed you are when in reality he just wants more time alone with you, to even beneficial things like convincing your teachers or boss to treat you better because you are such an amazing student/worker.

There is also little he wouldn’t do for you. He will of course do small things if you ask like taking you to and from appointments no matter the ungodly hour it is happening and taking you on dates to all the places you are interested in. But he will do so much more if only you ask it of him. For example, if you come to him for help, telling him about some person or group that is hurting you somehow, either directly or through association, and ask him to get rid of them, he will.

Unsure = How much trust do they have in you? What happens if you break it?

V trusts you a great deal, more than most yandere. Even when you make small mistakes he will quickly forgive you and assure you that he understands that you are doing your best and don’t truly mean any harm. If you do something drastic though, that is different. There is what will happen if you try to hurt yourself (See K for Kidnapping), but if you do something like cheat on him he will be devastated. He will blame himself for the most part, assuming he has failed to provide you with the love and affection you desire and is determined to be better. He will follow you without being too pushy, not quite a stalker but he will reappear in your life every couple of weeks to try to win your heart back. And between each meeting, he would work on improving himself in any way he thinks he is failing you, from physical to social to financial. At times he may even consider leaving you be, letting you go free, but he can’t help but be drawn to you. In the end, he would rather give up on life rather than give up on you.

Welcome = Let’s say they’re Yandere for you but you never had your first meeting… How do they initiate it?

If you two have not officially met but you have caught V’s eye, he will avoid approaching you due to the belief that he will return to Vergil soon. He does not wish to hurt you by charming you and then disappearing, though that does have a romantic air to it. So perhaps he will allow himself to be seen once or twice if the situation requires. For example, if you are attacked by demons he will jump in to save you, maybe take a moment to let his mysterious and alluring aura seep in before disappearing like a masked hero, never truly known but leaving a sense of mysticism. At least this way, when the being known as V does disappear from this world, he will live on in you to a small extent.

If/when he knows that he can prolong his life, he will search for you right away. He’ll want to keep up his dark, mysterious, romantic aura as much as possible to make a good impression. This includes not giving you all the answers right away, slipping into the shadows and reappearing for the first few meets, and not letting you meet the blabbermouth Griffon or the horrific Nightmare, at least not at first. Shadow you may meet because he trusts her to not ruin the moment and may even add to his allure as he has a powerful jungle cat at his whim.

He has read countless poems and stories of romance, and he will use that to his advantage to make your introduction to him as perfect as possible.

Zealous = If everything fails, will they be able to kill their partner? For the most part, no. Even if you fight, run, reject, and abandon him over and over he will never be pushed to kill you. The only circumstance in which he would take your life is if you have been irreparably damaged, physically or mentally. If, because of a demon attack, the cruelty of the world infecting you with an incurable disease, or you have lost your mind, if your life is nothing but suffering, he will mercy kill you. And he would follow you soon after, to be able to hold you in the afterlife and watch you be free of this pain.

#devil may cry imagine #devil may cry x reader #v x reader #devil may cry #yandere v #v dmc #v devil may cry #yandere v dmc #yandere #yandere male #soft yandere #male yandere

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