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#colour by the yard earrings
world-of-wales · 2 years
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CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2011
19 AUGUST 2011 || The Duchess of Cambridge visited the riot effected areas in Birmingham along with Prince William.
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staryuee · 1 month
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GIVING THEM A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET
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꒰warnings꒱ not proofread…:3
⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . how would your significant other react when you give them a friendship bracelet made by your own kind hands?
⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, kazuha, kokomi, scaramouche, heizou, itto, cyno, lyney, lynette, freminet, furina, neuvillette, navia, ga ming, chiori, arlecchino
⠀꒲ ` notes . . . this reminded of primary school days of making randomly coloured loom band bracelets…sniffles, the good ol’ days of giving your crush bundled up daisies that had bugs on them from the schools yard and then immediately running away (i am a lesbian i had no such experience in just talking for the sake of poetry ☆〜(ゝ。∂)
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R. DILUC — 迪卢克
“what’s this, my love?” he cautiously surveyed the tiny strings and charms with a shocked yet rather satisfied expression. so this is what you were so focused on for the last couple hours…? he can’t help but feel slightly relieved that instead of wasting away at work you were merely crafting a cutely childish gift for him.
“it’s a friendship bracelet! look, i even managed to find these cute strawberry charms for you.” you laughed and start fiddling with the short strands near his scalp, fiddling with them and folding them over to create a stem-like shape.
diluc softly exhaled in amusement, wrapping the small piece of jewellery around his already bedazzled wrist. it takes him a real good second to actually realise what you just said. awkwardly coughing into his hand, diluc catches your attention, “darling, you do realise we’re married?”
a smile possesses your face as you hook your arm with his. “of course i do! i just thought it’d be cute, you know?” he smiled in response.
diluc is no stranger to friendship bracelets. after all, him and kaeya used to make those for each other all the time. sometimes that young triplet consisting of a very dedicated jean, a shy kaeya and a mischievous diluc (sometimes a cutsey barbara who tried to eat the beads) would gather together to create and exchange such bracelets.
a tradition that diluc might’ve let go of but had never forgotten. when you go to sleep at night diluc immediately places your bracelet into a drawer where he kept all of the ones from his childhood.
K. KAZUHA — 枫原万叶
“is this a friendship bracelet? that’s very considerate of you, my love.” kazuha tilts your chin to press a feather-light kiss onto your lips, his touch so tender it was like being touched by sunlight itself. “but i thought we were passed our journey of friendship?” his hand travel down to your hips. squeezing them intently to bring you close to his flowery scent.
“or do i need to remind you that we’re lovers?” taking your hand in his, kazuha leaned his head down to press his lips against your knuckles, eyes peeking through his bangs as if to entice you. and, well, of course it did. kazuha knew just a simple glance at you paired with an affectionate grin was enough to lure you into loving his arms.
kazuha didn’t expect for a piece of handmade jewellery consisting of maple leaf charms with red string to become so sentimental to him, but it was only a matter of time till the bracelet helped become an engraved memory of you. he’d kiss it each time you were apart, hold it up against moonlight while stargazing, trying to illustrate your figure within a constellation.
wandering became more exciting. he’d get to slowly part from your lips, while still having a perpetual reminder of the love you shared with a few pieces of strings tied to his wrist alone.
kazuha, though content with this, always secretly craved to hear the sound of your voice as you called his name and reached out to him. however, within his life he’s learned one thing that has truly stood out; it’s the small things in life that mirror true beauty.
S. KOKOMI — 珊瑚宫心海
“your excellency? what is that on your wrist?” gorou tilted his head curiously, his ears twitching in tandem.
“hm? oh, this?” she shakes the coral coloured bracelet, making the beads and fish charms jingle excitedly as if they were jumping within sea waves. “haha, [name] gave it to me. it’s a friendship bracelet!” kokomi shows it off with pride, a flutter of flapping fins hit her ribcage in the form of her beating heart at the prospect of people seeing the deepness of your ocean-depth bond with just a few beads on a string.
burnout is utterly debilitating. as kokomi spends only a few minutes in her recluse corner within watatsumi, even the shimmering of pearls and the quiet sound of the shore isn’t enough to bring her fragmented energy to rest. nesting her head upon the bundled arms that laid carefully on her desk, she attempted to snooze. finding that she can just barely flutter her curled eyelashes close before an unbearable ache pinches her eyebrows into a knot.
feeling defeated, kokomi sits back up and taps her fingers absentmindedly on the wood, finding just a tiny bit of solace in the sound of clicking and clacking. wait…she quickly glanced at her wrist, noticing she completely forgot to take off her bracelet when preforming her duties. despite her fatigue, kokomi can’t help but exhale a smile. calloused fingers tweezing the bubbly fish charms in an attempt for stimuli that wasn’t so agonising.
she’s so glad she has you, even if that memory of you is withheld in something children share for an intended promise of foreverness.
SCARAMOUCHE — 斯卡拉姆齐
“are you twelve?“ scaramouche raises his eyebrows at you with a sneer, a look of either disgust or confusion on his face. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were mocking me.”
“you’re short but not kid short!” you retorted to appease him, rolling your eyes at his annoying theatrics. did he really have to be so bitchy all the time? i guess when people say that short people tend to be the most angry because all that wrath is bottled into such a teeny body it’s very true…
the friendship bracelets (yes you made two!) were a representation of his journey from the malicious “balladeer” to the slightly less malicious and more so bittersweet wanderer. a contradicting colour palette yet his frosty and asshole attitude remained the same no matter what hue of the rainbow he was dipped in (should’ve been named skittle not scaramouche).
“if you don’t like it that much you don’t have to wear it, it’s not like i’m forcing you.” a pang of disappointed squeezed your chest heavily. it would’ve been fine if he just threw it away after a week or so. you would’ve been extremely hurt yes, but it’s better than having your own lover reject a handmade gift without even a thought for your feelings.
seeing your frown lines and the way your eyebrows scrunched together, scaramouche sighed and immediately snatched the bracelets back. quickly covering them over his wrist and crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “i never said i wouldn’t wear it, stop being whiny.”
the slight embarrassment he felt was worth every stroke of blush on his cheeks if it meant he could see you smile brightly at something so childish.
S. HEIZOU — 鹿野院平藏
“it’s not our anniversary.” heizou stated simply.
“nope.”
“neither of our birthdays.”
“nope.”
“not a special achievement either.”
“nope.”
“alright, love, spill. what’s the occasion, hm? just in the mood to spoil me with your affections?” heizou threw his hands up in defeat. not being able to use his detective experience into deciphering why you decided to be so cute today and bless his otherwise uneventful day.
carefully, you wrapped the bracelet around his eager wrist. “no occasion~ just felt like giving you a friendship bracelet to show my love for you.” he raises an eyebrow. leaning to your eye level, heizou procures a look of confused distaste at your seemingly innocent admission. “friendship?” he looks away dejected, placing his hands on his hips. “and here i thought i was your very cool and sweet boyfriend.”
brushing away his dramatics and looping your arms around his neck to pull his pouty face in closer, you retaliate. “oh hush, you’re still my lovely dramatic boyfriend.” heizou smirked and leaned in impossibly close, his breath tickling your soft skin generously.
“then, could you show your love for me in another way too?” begrudgingly, you caved. moulding your lips with his while his hands gradually situated themselves on your hips. a chuckle escapes his occupied mouth, leaving a tingling feeling down your spine as you pull away, a bright smirk on his face. “thanks for the bracelet, baby~ i’ll be sure to wear it as my lucky charm during investigations!”
A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗
“well of course you’d want to bless the almighty arataki itto with such a gift! i humbly accept your offering~” itto sways a thumbs up, tongue rolling across his pointy teeth in an extravagant display of confident hubris. all in vain, of course. no amount of bravado could dull the charming blush on his cheeks; the way his grin hoisted into a genuine smile of gratitude or the way his eyes glistened with a familiar light; childlike wonder.
itto was never and has never been accustomed to such small things in life. honestly, he was lucky for a stranger to not throw insults, physical objects, hits, kicks, spit, and the like for his mere existence. a friendship bracelet was an event that was so far out of reach for the oni that the only thing he wanted to do right now was to kiss you stupid.
but, he couldn’t. he stood still, twiddling with the beads that nested against his wrist with a haze that was absentminded you felt like tapping him would cause a bubble to burst above his head for water to splash him awake.
the word “friend” doesn’t even register into his brain. he’s too content with the knowledge that your bond meant something to you. that he meant something to you.
you’ve never seen itto so quiet before. he’s usually this giant (literally) ball of energy that bounces around the place and shares an infectious attitude of confidence and joy with no restraint even to the most stoic, but right now, it was like he was that small vulnerable child again given a chance at redemption for simply living.
CYNO — 赛诺
cyno tilts his head to the side as he stares with pinched brows at the weaved threads of purple and yellow beads and charms that you held in front of you with a delicate hand. “what’s the bracelet for?”
“it’s a friendship bracelet!” taking the initiative, you wrap the bracelet around his relatively small wrist and watch in awe as it seems to match his palette perfectly. perhaps not his personality, but maybe if he wore this around regularly people wouldn’t be so frightened by his frozen features.
cyno went quiet for a moment, a look of confusion on his face. a look that made you shrink in shame. did he not like it? was something wrong with it? is it too childish for someone with such an esteemed status? all such baseless thoughts get immediately dispelled once cyno’s lips curl into a subtle grin, his eyes narrowing devilishly.
you’ve often seen this look when he’s about to score a rewarding win in a tcg tournament. but, he also had this look when…fuck. you sigh in defeat and simply let him say it. “why did the friendship bracelet break up with its partner?”
“…ha. why?”
“because it felt tied down.”
you know how in animes when someone says something very fucking stupid, it’s like the world echoes with silence to allow the person to truly feel the embarrassment from their words? you hoped that’s what cyno felt when you blank stared him with a thin line for your lips, hands clenching and unclenching as you fought the urge to squeeze his cheeks together.
“do you get it?” he asks, but before he can ramble about the absolutely articulate construction of his pun, you spring into action and press your lips passionately on his. of course, he replies eagerly. enjoying the clicking of the beads hitting together as his hand made it’s swift, instinctive movement to your waist.
LYNEY — 林尼
“mon ange…is this for me?” lyney smiles gently at you, sneaking the red bracelet onto his wrist. unable to take his away from the fine craftsmanship and the adorable details of hats, doves and some card charms. knowing you thought of him so directly and so in depth made his heart flutter the same way a dove’s wings expand after being liberated from a cooped cage.
“of course it is, it’s a friendship bracelet!” you clasp your hands behind your back, awaiting either his praise or his teasing — whatever he was in the mood for more. despite the happiness that surged through his heart like a bad game of throw the dart, believe me you shot him hard in the feels, lyney frowns.
“but, mon chéri…” he sighs in despair, a theatric hand over the very heart you had gripped tightly in your hand with a mere few beads of coloured wax. “i haven’t gotten a gift for you, i feel rather ashamed of myself.”
“don’t worry about that, this is just meant to be my good luck charm for you during your shows and…” your voice trailed off to him. not because he was uninterested but because he loved the buzzing sound of your melodic syllables each time your lips opened.
“ah, my dear,” lyney paused your affectionate rambles politely, “you’ve got something here…” you tilt your head to the side quizzically and await for him to point at it or take it out. he grins wildly. “well, isn’t that cute?” lyney chuckles softly and while leaning suuuper close to your ear, ‘magically’ pulls out a rainbow rose from seemingly no where.
“it seems we’re even now, hm?” he gestures, handing the rose over with a wink, leaving a cheeky kiss to your jawline in gratitude.
LYNETTE — 琳妮特
knowing lynette’s character and demeanour intricately, you’re aware that grand gestures aren’t at all her thing. she can barely handle a tea time conversation with someone if she’s forced to play an active role.
the bracelet sat enclosed within your palm as you rambled on about your day to lynette, feeling an unshakable amount of anxiety vomiting into your gut for no reason but overthinking. you’ve been avoiding giving her this bracelet for a week now in fear she’ll find very little value or use in something so minimal.
“you have something you want to give me.” a phrase intended as a question, but said more so as a statement.
“i…uh, how did you know?” you laugh and play with the strings of the bracelet cautiously as to not break it.
“your eyebrows are furrowed and you keep glancing away from me.” she analyses you like a real robot…i guess she’s really committed to that bit. either that or she just loves you too much that being unable to read your expressions would be a grievous sin on her part.
with a sigh of defeat, you slide over the bracelet to her with an awkward smile paling your usually joyous lips. “i made a friendship bracelet for you…thought it’d be cute.” lynette doesn’t understand people around her a majority of the time. truly, she doesn’t even want to, it’s not like she needs to either since she has her brother to leech on and others to fool with her robotic party trick and yet, she can’t help but wonder why it is you choose to defend yourself over something so sweet.
“thank you, it’s cute. i’ll wear it for my next show if i’m able to.” her lips curve upward in what to most would seem like a twenty degree uplift, but to you, it meant quite literally everything.
FREMINET — 菲米尼
nothing. no amount of experiences with his interactions with people could’ve prepared him for the absolute heart attack that was this gesture.
he loved it, too much. he wishes he could just dip back into the ocean depths. indulge in a meaningless conversation with the tidalga, or even express his feelings of adoration to you to pers. but currently, it was only you two sharing a humble moment together. no person he could lean in, no space he could rush the words he’d love to say to you in gratitude for the gift.
and you knew that. and that’s what he also loved about you. how willing you were to accept and love him even with him being less socially adept than a coral reef. feeling the cool and vibrant coloured bracelet tilt around his wrist and knot in place, he smiled wobbly.
between the silence, you knew that the quiet smile and nod meant more than his stammered and hushed words could ever express. leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his wrist and cheek, freminet manages to gulp a bit of courage and swallow his static and tingly anxiety, reaching to kiss your forehead. letting his lips linger momentarily before he backed away. “thank you…”
FURINA — 芙宁娜
heartbeat pounding in her ears. eyes narrowing into puffy circles. her bottom lip bitten brutally by her gnashing teeth. hands shaky, making her teacup tremble within her grip. why were you glaring at her so intensely?!
first the invitation for a tea party with only you two as the special guests. second the ominous letter claiming you two “need to talk.” and now, you were completely quiet and calmly snacking, drinking away several blends of tea without a word! it was absolutely ridiculous to think the one person she has entrusted her still mending heart with is ignoring all the clear signs of hesitance and vulnerabilities within the relationship despite them all being initiated by them!
“so, furina.” you clasp your hands together, an impish look transforming your usually peaceful face. her heartbeat stammers as her eyes meet yours in a tender glance. “uhm..yeah?” furina attempts to appear more courageous than she is, but truly, she’s shitting it (for lack of a better term).
the silence stretched on for too long before you giggled and pulled up a blue and white toned bracelet from your sleeves, shaking it with your fingertips with a kind smile. “i made you a friendship bracelet!”
a ghost wavered out of her frightened soul, the tea in her hand put down at this point so she can savour the comforting feeling of her head in her hands. being a gorgeous, shining star in the spotlight of fontaine’s grand stage, furina isn’t a secondhand stranger to gifts. whether they’ve been given to her personally, awkwardly, silently, with no words signed or a creepy letter attached expressing their reverence.
she wishes you’d sometimes go that route instead of matching her in these theatrics! begrudgingly, despite the little flutter in her heart, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and looked at you with a pout that you couldn’t help but lean in to kiss.
NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特
neuvillette hums a tune along to the orchestra of the vinyl. an accompanying sound of his pen hastily itching onto the paper adding to the rhythm. his door opens and while he’d normally remain quietly focused on his piling paperwork, he recognised this particular patter of footsteps coming towards him. you.
smiling habitually and peering his head up, neuvillette greeted you lovingly. “hello, my love. what brings you here today? did you get in trouble?” he knew the reason you’d come ushering into his office was hardly with the intention of getting him to aid you with your troublesome quarrels, but rather, you just wanting his love and affection that he was more than willing to fulfil. if time allowed, of course.
“no, no. nothing like that, yet…” you grinned and neuvillette looked at you with a playful look of disappointment at the hesitance. “i made you a gift!” with a prideful aura that was less arrogance and more pure joy, you presented the bracelet to him. he wasted no time in stirring the small bundle of fabric and beads with his gloves. “look,” you pointed eagerly, “i even managed to commission some furina and melusine charms! you know how we always joke about them being like our children? i thought i’d be a cute addition!”
he exhaled a satisfactory laugh in agreement, interlocking your hand in his to press a kiss to your knuckles in thanks. “cute, indeed. thank you, mon chéri. you’re too sweet sometimes.” you sit on the edge of his desk, watching excitedly as he places the bracelet onto his wrist. “as a gift in return, after i’m done with work, how about we take a nice stroll together? i assure you, no rain will interrupt our serenity so long as you’re by my side.”
NAVIA — 娜维娅
immediately gushes at you as your palm opens to present the gold and blue hued bracelet to her, adorned with rose charms that you personally painted in gold and a greyish blue to accentuate her outfit if she decides to wear it. it was less a decision and more a necessity.
she delicately handled the bracelet onto her wrist and kissed both of your cheeks in gratitude, “thank you so much, sweetheart! this is so cute…but what’s the occasion? it’s not our anniversary or anything like that.” navia smiled at you, playing with some of the little roses and twirling them around in appreciation.
“it’s a friendship bracelet!”
her lips pucker into a pout as she starts to coddle you within her arms, occasionally swinging you around gently. “you’re so absolutely adorable!” she nips at your earlobe, kissing it as a form of apology. “but honey, you do know we aren’t just friends right?” navia captures your cheeks within her palms. “we’re lovers!” she presses several kisses across your face, ending her affectionate spillage with a press of her lips on yours.
“oops— haha, sorry i got lipstick all over you, darling.” navia chuckled and began wiping away all the lipstick smudges from your pretty face. yet her attempts bore no fruit. instead of wiping away anything, she only made it oh so much worse. “ah well, guess we both got presents from one another today?” she snickers, twirling her wrist to show off the bracelet with a wink.
GA MING — 嘉明
if you thought this man’s eyes couldn’t get any brighter, then you’re absolutely dead wrong. if you thought he could jump high while lion dancing, you’re also absolutely dead wrong!
he could outrun god right now. if you asked him to defeat a hoard of lined up mondstadt and liyue treasure hoarders, he’d do it in a heartbeat. what possessed you to be so cute?! do you seriously think he can take another heart attack like this after the one he had during lantern rite?
you aren’t able to say much or even explain your reasons for as to why you decided to make this nor what it even is or represents before ga ming smacks his lips messily all over your face. a mixture of your own gloss from kissing you earlier and his own saliva stick to your skin sloppily and you can’t help but feel both enamoured and grossly repulsed at the mixture of sticky wetness on your cheeks as well as the love that seemed to glow like fireworks.
“mmuah~! i love you so much…are you trying to make me cry?” he pouts, becoming a giggling mess as soon as you roll your eyes at his dramatics.
he keeps the bracelet on every day. sometimes he’ll be pouty all day if he’s unable to wear it in fear of it snapping and wasting away all your precious hard work due to either his negligence or the pains of manual labour…he’ll have to cope with simply glancing at the red imprints the beads had left intended onto his skin for satisfaction.
CHIORI — 千织
“what is this?” she jingles the vivid and strong orange coloured bracelet in front of her face, appreciating the tiny details of the cute sewing equipment charms and what looked to be handmade porcelain bows embedded onto some beads.
“it’s a friendship bracelet!” you gleam at her, pride evident in your face at your creation. she hums in agreement; it was certainly something alright.
“oh. cute.” that’s all the genuine feedback she could give you without mentioning how tacky it would look with her attire — it was an affectionate gesture, one which she didn’t want to undermine and therefore, with little complaint despite her own personal conflicts, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, extending her hand out and twirling it to admire the craftsmanship.
you won’t see her actively wearing it out in every day life, perhaps you’ll manage to sneak a glimpse of her playing with the beads while she’s going over some designs in her sketchbook but otherwise, her gloved hands contain nothing but the smell of perfume.
not that she’d admit it outright until you asked, but the real reason she refuses to wear your bracelet daily is for a simple reason; she doesn’t want it to break in order to have that constant reminder of you as she goes to bed and stares up at her ceiling with the bracelet being coddled between her fingertips.
ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺
“you’re so childish.” she muses, tracing her nails across the beads, eliciting a weird clacking sound as the charms and beads hit against each other. “but i suppose that’s also an alluring aspect to you.” she ushers the bracelet onto her wrist. despite it being completely covered, there was something even more intimate about her gift being a part of a hidden identity for her; your affection only intended for your gorgeous eyes and her narrowed ones.
tilting your head to her eye-level, you can smell her musky perfume. she leaned in for a kiss. her lips tasting like flavoured gloss consisting of all sorts of red berries, an accurate mirror to the rosey colour of her bright lips. a sneaky hand traced circles around your hips and waist as she attempted to take your breath away. a scythe is a befitting weapon for a woman who’s kiss was practically a notion for death.
she’s used to her children offering gifts and trinkets to her. rocks, random jewellery they crafted with glue, messy crayon drawings, sometimes even in the most macabre scenarios, blood itself. each of those, however, she cherished wholeheartedly. the same way she’d cherish the bond between you two that she’d never allow for anyone to break.
so long as she continuously receives silly gestures like this, she’s convinced she’ll be able to hold you within her embrace with very little effort.
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©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ
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rubiehart · 1 month
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jj’s been doing odd little jobs around figure 8 that the kooks are too entitled to do themselves, mowing their lawns, pulling weeds, cleaning their pools, they get him a few extra bucks in his pocket so he’s got no complaints when the stack of cash is handed to him, but his favourite reward of all is the prissy kook girl who’s house he’s called to often, her parents always tipped big so once again, no complaints on his end.
if anything the whole thing was a reward, excessive money handed to him for doing basically nothing in their yard, kooks clearly having no perception of how much money this was, especially to a pogue, and getting front row seats to see the kook princess in all her glory, and what she did when she thought nobody was watching.
she’d stumble in a little after school ended, tote bag rested on her shoulder, hands occupied by her phone, headphone wires connecting and blocking out pretty much all sound as she blared music, she’d blow a bubble with her red gum, jj guessed cherry flavoured, he wanted to know for sure though, he’d do anything to taste it himself.
he’d cross the garden to grab another plank of wood, getting a closer look at her in all her glory, she was clearly in her school uniform, the attire she’d be in everyday when she stumbled through the gate, knee high socks hugging her calves perfectly and leaving her plush thighs bare for his viewing, or he liked to think so, her plaid skirt so short he was sure if he crouched down low enough he’d see what colour panties she was wearing, or if she was wearing any at all. he hoped not. white shirt snug to her upper half, her tits poking out through the fabric, the slight transparency would sometimes show him what colour it was if the lighting was right.
he told himself it was a perv move for the first few days when he realised the liked the look, but later on after reflecting, he decided it wasn’t harming anyone. he was only looking, so he’d put the image to the back of his mind so he could fist his cock to the thought later on that evening in the confinements of the chateau guest room.
soon enough though, you’d dissapear through the glass doors of your kook mansion and he’d wait longingly for the next day so he could get that, minute at best, glance of you. picking up another panel and shielding his throbbing erection with it, willing it to go down before your dad came out with jj’s pay out for today’s ‘hard work’, as he called it.
he hears a voice and looks up to see you bouncing down the stairs of your porch, presumably towards your pool, his eyes are shamelessly trained on your figure in your tiny little bikini, still popping your cherry gum with your phone to your ear, chatting cheerfully down the receiving end, his eyes bug out for a second, pupils dilating with a dazed look on his face when you lay yourself down on one of the few sun loungers, pulling your sunglasses up onto your head and looking around, smiling politely at him before continuing your ramble.
he’s a little late to react but manages a small wave, eyes ripping away from your tits that we’re spilling out of your tiny bikini top, your whole body on show for him and he turns away and rubs a hand over his face, puffing air out of his lips slowly. he’s fucking done for.
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diejager · 6 months
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Hunt Cw: Predator/prey, primal kink, fingering, dub-con, tell me if I missed any.
Hunting made his blood pump and his adrenaline soar, every smell was pungent, reaching his acutely aware nose; every sound was clear to his heightened hearing; and every little shift sent his sharp eyes their way. Whereas people saw a blur of colour and motion at the speed he ran through the forest at, he saw clearly, red eyes flashing from one side to the other in search of a little lamb. He was hunting his meal.
König stalked with deathly silence, appearing behind one tree only to vanish behind the second one, slow and efficient stalking that made your hair stand on end. You would lose him if your eyes stared away for a second, but how couldn’t you when you were running away from him, fleeing from the wolf that chased you. You were clumsy unlike the skillful hunter, stumbling around trees and shuffling leaves loudly, acting as a beacon in this silent forest in the Austrian Alps. Every branch you cracked echoed and every hiss and whine you made continued farther into the woods, it all reached his ears in a mettre of seconds.
You knew he was close, a few yards away and never farther, staking his claim on his prey. You could hear his taunting whispers, the low bellows of his hunger and his beckoning howls, they were neither threatening nor dark, only ever soft and coaxing, wanting to lure his prey closer to him. He never pounced, he never growled and he never barked at you, sending you into this illusionary semblance of safety and peace. It made you stop running, stop looking behind you and deaf to every danger that lurked around you.
That’s when he jumped, his heavy body tackling you, sending you crumbling under him on the rough and patchy forest ground. You screamed, struggling against his looming figure, nails digging into the dirt and feet kicking at his thick thighs. He ground his hips downwards, growling in your ear with a low, threatening pitch that made your knees buckle. Your body grew limp, melting into a small and vulnerable puddle of pleasure and nerves beneath him.
“Mein süßes kleines Lamm,” he growled, hands worming their way into your pants.
You fought, pressing your legs together to stop his eager fingers from slipping under the waistband of your panties to press two digits at your slick hole. He dragged them between your fold, rubbing your throbbing clit with quick and rough movements. You moaned, pressing into his wandering hands and back arching skyward, meeting his strong chest.
He cooed, fingers dipping into your clenching cunt, the rough texture of his glove rubbing against your soft walls. He pumped in roughly, sinking his fingers until the knuckles met your lips, praising you for your obedience to his hunger.
“Look at me, Lamm.”
When you turned your head, peering at him from the corner of your teary eye, you met crimson irises framed with healthy lashes and black fur. You didn’t know if you were staring at a man or a monster, the lush, black fur on his snout, his erect and pointy ears and the blood ribbons falling down his crowd shoulders and even broader body, tall and hulking over your smaller one.
He was the big, bad wolf and you his little lamb, his innocent and frolicking prey that he stalked and hunted. You were the being he hungered after, that dangerous laugh and eager hands. König would eat you whole, starting with that pulsing cunt.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973
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soulofstarsandink · 10 months
Text
FORESHADOWING IN ACOTAR YOU MAY HAVE MISSED
*Spoilers*
1. Feyre painted the night sky on her drawer in the cottage.
2. Feyre had heard of Rhysand long before she met him. She recalled hearing of “One High Fae that could turn your bones to dust from a hundred yards away.”
3. One of the first things Lucien says to Feyre is that her eyes “are like stars.”
4. When first arrived at the Spring Court, Feyre unknowingly dresses herself in Night Court colours. (A dark blue tunic, another tunic “one of purple so deep it could have been black.”)
5. When Lucien and Feyre encounter the Bogge, Feyre distracts herself by thinking of “a starry, unclouded night sky, peaceful and glittering and endless.”
6. Rhysand appears as a “shadow I could never quite glimpse” in Feyre’s nightmares before they met. “Behind me - a shadow lurked - no, watched. I didn’t dare turn to look at it, to see who might be within the shadows, observing.”
7. Amarantha appeared in Feyre’s nightmares before she knew of her, as a “A pale, faceless woman dragging her bloodred nails across my throat” - a nightmare of Rhysands perhaps?
8. When the Suriel told Feyre to “Stay with the High Lord”, it didn’t specify which High Lord.
9. When Tamlin takes Feyre to see the pool of starlight, she describes the setting filling her with “both longing and mirth…it just seemed…right.”
10. Despite only having heard and not seen the Attor, Feyre manages to paint its exact image “a tall, skeletally thin gray creature with bat ears and giant, membranous wings.” How would she have been able to do this? Possibly an image from someone else’s mind?
11. During Calanmai, Feyre disregards Tamlin’s order to stay in her room as “there was a string - a string tied to my gut that pulled me towards those hills, commanding me to go, to hear the faerie drums…” “but a wild wicked voice weaving in between the drumbeats whispered otherwise. Go, that voice said, tugging at me. Go see.”
12. The first thing Rhysand ever says to Feyre is “There you are, I’ve been looking for you” before telling the three lesser faeries, “Thank you for finding her for me.”
13. During Feysand’s first encounter, Feyre thinks to herself Rhysand’s words “were tinged with an arrogance that only an immortal could achieve” to which he “laughed under his breath” having heard the insult.
14. When Feyre first drinks faerie wine, she describes it as “like a million fireworks exploring inside of me, filling my veins with starlight.”
15. Still intoxicated she states she wants to swim in the night sky, “to bathe in its colours and feel the stars twinkling between my fingers.”
16. Tamlin and Feyre had their first kiss during the shortest night of the year.
17. Rhysand states “only my prisoners and my enemies call me (Rhysand).” It’s then interesting that Feyre refers to him as ‘Rhys’ in her POV in moments when she can see beneath his villain mask. (And EXTRA interesting when she refers to him as such during their first kiss.)
18. When Rhysand senses Tamlin and Lucien have hidden Feyre “a flicker of excitement - perhaps disbelief - flashed across his features.”
19. Rhysand was the only person Under the Mountain that bet on Feyre slaying the worm.
20. Feyre’s bargain tattoo is similar to the Illyrian tattoos that are given for luck and glory.
21. When Rhysand dressed Feyre under the mountain he crowned her with a “small golden diadem imbedded with lapis lazuli” - a stone that inspires confidence and is worn by royalty.
22. When Rhysand informs Amarantha of his bargain with Feyre, it’s also an act of defiance as he mentions the bargain is “for the rest of her life”, hinting he believes she will survive the remaining tasks.
23. Before the second trial, Rhysand dresses Feyre in a ‘blood orange’ gown - a colour symbolising good fortune.
24. During their first mind convo, Rhysand says “Good girl.” (Not a fact, just hot tbh.)
25. When Rhysand sends the music to her cell, she unknowingly imagines Velaris and “a palace in the sky of alabaster and moonstone, where all that was lovely dwelled in peace…everything I wanted was there - the one I loved was there-“
。・:*˚:✧。
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e1e4n0r5 · 9 months
Text
Twisted Love
Summary: You always expected to marry your twin brother, Daeron. However, when this does not come to be, you find comfort with your siblings. As only Targaryens could. 
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TW: Targ!cest, canon-typical incest, canon-typical age of consent (I did age up a little but the first s*xual encounters begin at 16), kind-of-I guess-sort-of grooming (Targs gonna Targ!), explicit s*xual content, oral s*x (m receiving, f receiving), p in v, anál play, group s*x
Notes: 
I did change ages a little in this, just to make it somewhat less seedy. 
Aegon is NOT a r*pist (honestly, why would the showrunners put that in if they wanted the audience to sympathise with him??)
Given that this will basically be PWP, there’s no Dance
Few uses of Y/N, only when needed
I haven’t written in ages, so this is probably 💩
This is FILTH. Pure filth. Heed the warnings up top. What’s listed there is what you will find. This is filthy, sordid, devious SMÚT. 
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You weren't meant for Aemond. As Daeron’s twin, the entire realm had expected news of your betrothal for years. Growing up, you were never far from your twin brother. Wherever one of you went, the other was never far behind. He would walk with you through the gardens; you would read with him in the library. You would watch him train with your brothers and cousins – or rather, listen to his protests about training – whilst you sat on a balcony above, your embroidery on your lap. You would both insist on taking your history and Valyrian lessons together, not wishing to be apart even for those few hours.
You pictured your wedding, together. You would sketch your wedding dress, and Daeron would practice draping your family’s cloak over your shoulders. You would have practiced your vows together, if only either of you had known the words. You both thought of your future children, agreeing upon names for your future sons and daughters. You both liked the names Maelon for a boy and Daela for a girl, and both hated Jaehna and Raenor. You both wanted them to have the traditional Targaryen colouring – white hair, violet eyes – but did agree that perhaps one or two with the Hightower colouring could be nice as well.
This lasted until you were twelve, then Daeron was sent to Oldtown. You begged and pleaded for him not to go, but your mother and grandsire ignored your pleas. After that, you asked to go with him. After all, you could not be apart. This, also, was refused. You would stay in Kings Landing and become a shining example of a Targaryen princess, and your brother would go to Oldtown to receive an extensive education.
Watching Daeron sail away was the most painful moment of your life. You cried, and screamed, and wailed at the top of your lungs. Fuck dignity and decorum; you felt like your very heart was being ripped right out of your chest. It was unbearable. Your mother ordered Aemond to take you back to your room, humiliated at the scene you were causing. That was when it started.
You and Aemond had certainly been close before Daeron left, there was no denying that, but the whole castle knew who your favourite brother was. However, with your twin gone, Aemond seized the opportunity to take the place of your closest sibling. Just two years older than you, you started spending more time with your one-eyed brother. He trained every day, unlike Daeron who practically had to be dragged to the training yard by his ear, so you got a lot more embroidering done. He came to the library with you, content to sit in silence whilst you both read. You would make recommendations to one another, expanding both your knowledge bases. You became more versed in politics and military history; Aemond expanded his horizons with languages, histories of the Westerosi kingdoms, and even the occasional fictional piece.
Aemond corrupted you. There is no other way to describe the changes that occurred in you after Daeron was sent away. Aemond was the antithesis to Daeron, everyone knew that. Daeron was sweet, soft; a kind-hearted and devoted brother. Aemond was not exactly unkind, but it was inevitable that his darkness would eventually spill over onto you. It was so subtle, you didn't even notice. Not until your sixteenth year.
Aegon and Helaena were married, their twin children a few months old. You had been in your rooms, reading later than you normally would, but the book had sustained your interest strongly enough to carry on into the night. At one point, you heard angry voices in the corridor outside your rooms. Your brothers: Aegon and Aemond. You couldn't clearly hear what they were saying, so you put your book down and headed over to your door, opening it just enough to look outside.
Your brothers were just a few feet from your door, arguing in hushed tones.
“How could you do this, Aegon?” Aemond snarled. “To disrespect not only your wife and sister, but our whole family too! Those filthy whores from the Street of Silk-”
“Aem, for fuck sake!” Aegon slurred, clearly drunk and swaying where he stood. “I just needed some relief. Helaena has the babies and is never in the fucking mood, so I just went to the Street-”
Aemond catches your eye from your hiding place behind your door. He cuts Aegon off, his eye darkening as a devious plan formed in his mind. “There is another option available to you, Aegon.”
“What? Mother threatened to cut off my cock if I did it with another maid-”
“Not a maid, you fool. Have you forgotten; we do have another sister.” With that, Aemond looked you in the eye. “What do you think, hāedar (little sister)? Would you help our dear Aegon with his problem?”
The eldest brother looked over his shoulder, pausing when he saw you. He looked back at Aemond. “You don't mean-?”
“What say you, brother? Surely your maiden little sister is more enticing than a common street whore?”
Aegon looked back at you, smiling as he looked you up and down. “Well, I suppose we are Targaryens, after all,” he smirked.
Suddenly it all made sense to you. The lingering kisses on your cheeks and foreheads; holding you close if you reclined on a chaise; admiring how you looked when you tried on new dresses, Aegon jokingly suggesting the necklines be a little lower; scaring off any men who tried to dance with you at balls; kissing your neck when they held you close… Despite your mother’s insistence on keeping you away from your ancestors’ ‘queer customs’, sometimes Targaryens just needed to love another the most.
You smiled at both your brothers, cracking open your door a little wider.
That night you learnt about the pleasures hands and mouths can provide, learning all your brothers had to teach you. How to move your mouth up and down a cock, how to touch a man's balls, how to use your hands to stimulate the parts your mouth couldn't take, how to swallow their offerings. You started on your knees between Aegon's legs as he lay back on your bed. Aemond took charge and instructed you how to please a man's cock, at some points holding your hair and slowly moving your head up and down for you to understand the desired depth and pacing. Aegon sat helpless on the bed, leaning back on his hands with his head thrown back, lost in the pleasure of having his youngest sister’s mouth. At one point he asked Aemond where he should finish; Aemond told him they would be gentle with you on your first try. You didn’t understand what that meant until Aemond pulled your head off Aegon’s cock just as he cried out and spurted all over his stomach. Still holding your hair, Aemond guided your head towards the white sticky fluid.
“Try it,” he ordered. “Next time you’ll swallow.”
You tentatively licked up some of Aegon’s fluids, holding it on your tongue for a second before swallowing. It didn’t necessarily taste bad; it was the texture that threw you off. Aemond kept hold of your hair until you had cleaned all of Aegon’s stomach. ‘Can’t leave any evidence,’ Aemond explained. After all, you were an unwed maiden. The castle would be rife with rumours if your handmaids discovered a man’s seed on your sheets.
When you were finished with Aegon, you expected both brothers to leave. They did not.
Aemond turned you to him, still on your knees, and began opening his leather breeches. “Show me what you’ve learnt, sister,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. So, you did. You used your hands and mouth just as they had showed you with Aegon. Your jaw soon began to ache, unused to these movements. Aemond was longer and thicker than Aegon (who wasn’t exactly small), requiring your hands to help work him faster when your jaw was threatening to give out. Aemond hit the back of your throat more than Aegon did, and he held your head still as you coughed.
“Take it, take it,” he grunted, as he began moving your head back and forth. “Oh, sӯz riña, sӯz riña (good girl),” he panted, thrusting faster into your mouth, until he climaxed with a loud groan. He held your head to his pelvis, ignoring your coughs as he flooded your mouth. “Swallow it, hāedar (little sister),” he ordered, “Or else you won’t get your pleasure from us this night.” You had obeyed as best as you could, still coughing in between swallows. When Aemond was satisfied you’d done as you were told, he pulled out of your mouth, a thick trail of saliva and semen lingering on his cock. “Lie back on the bed.”
You had done so, and he had promptly bestowed on you the most exquisite pleasure imaginable with just his mouth. He pulled your thighs over his shoulders, holding your hips against his face. Aegon had gotten his second wind, pulling your nightgown over your head and laving attention on your breasts. You didn't know they could be so sensitive, pushing your chest into Aegon’s mouth and hands as you fisted his hair. You moaned and mewled almost continuously as your brothers pleasured you, writhing atop your sheets.
Aegon eventually pulled away and moved up to your face. Taking hold of your chin, he pressed his lips to yours. It was your first kiss. You sighed against his mouth, his lips soft against yours. His thumb stroked your cheek as his other hand stroked over your hair tenderly.
Aemond looked up from between your legs when your sounds became muffled. “Aegon!” he protested.
“I'm sorry, brother,” he apologised with a smirk. “You were right; our little sister is just too enticing.”’ He smiled down at you, “I've wanted to kiss you for so long.”
Aemond was not happy at all with the situation, but returned to his work between your legs. He licked and sucked at your pussy, whilst Aegon kissed you deeply and ran his hands all over your breasts. Everything soon overwhelmed you, and you climaxed loudly into your eldest brother’s mouth, your thighs gripping Aemond’s head.
Throughout the night, the three of you pleasured each other a dozen times over, not stopping until you were all on the verge of exhaustion. Your brothers helped you put your nightgown back on, then put you to bed, slipping out of your rooms in the early hours, undetected by anyone.
No-one was any the wiser about what the three of you had done. However, you insisted that you had to tell Helaena. The elder sister would no doubt be thinking her brother-husband was out walking the Street of Silk, instead of spending his nights with his other sister. To a Targaryen, it was the better option.
And Helaena had been grateful. She had indeed been thinking that Aegon was out in the city, spending each night in a different brothel, sleeping with all manner of whores; it was a relief to know it was their younger sister on her knees for him. And Aemond too. And, after a few more months, Helaena herself joined in. Her months postpartum had been rough on the Princess, leaving her with no desire for intimacy – the very situation which had led Aegon to contemplate whoring as a solution – but when her desires had returned, the first thing she wanted to do was thank her sister for attending to their brother whilst she could not.
Over the next two years, the four of you engaged in your illicit activities in the dead of night, using hidden passages between your rooms to conduct your affairs. You and Aegon; you and Aemond; Aemond with Helaena; you and Helaena; even Aegon and Aemond at times. The only rule you all had was that you were not to be penetrated. You were still unwed, and you all wanted your maidenhead to remain intact. After all, Daeron would be your husband. And although he could not be with you all for your delectable and sordid acts, you still felt like he was owed something as your husband.
But it was not to be.
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It all came to a head on your eighteenth name day. Your mother had been telling you for months that Daeron, your beloved twin brother, was finally going to be returning from Oldtown, and a betrothal would be officially announced. You were elated at the return of your brother; you and he had not seen each other for six years. What if he had changed in the years? What if he felt you had changed? What if he disapproved of your relations with your other siblings? You had a profound love for Daeron – you grew inside your mother together, you were born only minutes apart – but you would not let him dictate private matters between you and your other siblings. He would join in on those matters, preferably, but who knew what kind of man he had grown into, separated from his Targaryen family and surrounded by books for so many years? But none of that mattered, your brother was returning.
Except he didn't.
The tourney for your name day was well underway, the midday meal had been eaten, and there was still no sign of Daeron.
“His ship must be delayed a little,” your grandsire Otto theorised from his seat behind you. “He’ll be with us soon, Princess.”
“Yes,” you agreed absently, “delayed.” Your disappointment was plain for all to see.
It wasn't until the tourney was over, the winner bestowed a great gift by yourself, that your mother told you there was a large storm over Oldtown, halting any ships from departing until it passed. She had also forbade Daeron from flying on dragonback, not wanting him to get caught in the same storm.
You felt your heart break. You and your twin would not be together on your name day. Yet another occasion you were kept apart.
Aegon and Aemond kept you company in your rooms that night. Helaena was too tired after the tourney and chose to retire to bed, so your brothers spent the evening on their knees, comforting you over your twin’s absence. Aemond at your front, Aegon at your rear. The eldest sibling was more than happy to settle himself between your cheeks for hours at a time, never seeming to get bored of your back passage. You never let him or Aemond enter you properly, only with fingers, tongues, or toys; you wanted Daeron to be there for that.
They slipped out of your rooms just before daybreak, allowing your maids to wake you in the morning. After you dressed and broke your morning fast with your brothers – Helaena was allowed to take breakfast in bed, as a married woman – Ser Criston Cole came by and told you your mother and grandsire wished to speak to you. Certain it was about Daeron and your impending betrothal, you almost skipped after the knight.
You arrived in your mother’s quarters, observing her standing by a window. She was picking at her hands, as she always did. Your grandsire stood tall a few feet from her. Although he carried himself with more confidence, there was an odd air about the both of them.
“Y/N,” your mother greeted, somewhat stiffly. “How are you, daughter?”
You hesitated. This would not be good news. “I’m well, thank you, mother. Ser Criston said you wished to speak to me?”
She nodded, her eyes flitting between you and Otto. “We didn’t want to tell you yesterday,” she admitted nervously.
Otto twirled a scrolled-up letter in his hand. “It’s from your mother’s cousin, Lord Ormund Hightower. He has asked that Daeron stay in Oldtown a while longer. He’s most pleased with Daeron’s service and is reluctant to replace him.”
You felt your blood begin to boil. “So, my twin brother and I are kept apart for even longer, because my mother’s cousin can’t be bothered to find a new boy to carry his cup?” you demanded, unable to hide your anger. You refused to accept it. You had been apart from Daeron for far too long. To have a reunion with him be cancelled so suddenly and with such a piss-poor explanation, was unacceptable to you. “And you chose to hide this from me?”
“Don’t take that tone, young lady,” your grandsire scolded. “A lord’s cupbearer is a good position for Daeron.”
“He belongs here! With me! With us,” you protested. “Have you no desire to have all your children together, mother?”
You watched your mother pick at her fingers. “It’s not that, Y/N-”
“Then what is it? Daeron should have returned by now. We were supposed to be betrothed years ago! Helaena married Aegon at five-and-ten; I am now eight-and-ten and there’s only ever been whispers of a betrothal for me. People will talk, mother; they will say I’m undesirable or unwanted, by my own family!” You wept. You wept hard, all your emotions pouring out. “Why can’t Daeron come home and be my husband?”
Otto and Alicent both looked uncomfortable. “It was never promised that you and Daeron would marry,” he explained. “Alliances may be required; that is why you are not betrothed.”
“And that is why Daeron is not here,” you accused. “It’s not some stupid lord wanting to keep his cupbearer; you don’t want Daeron and I to have the chance to marry, in case you need to sell me to the highest bidder.”
“Go on with your day, Y/N,” Otto ordered firmly, dismissing you and ending the conversation.
You had returned to your rooms and wept. After a while, Aemond, Aegon, and Helaena had all crept into your rooms via a secret passage from Aemond’s own room. They held you whilst you cried, comforting you as best they could. Then you had an idea. A wicked idea, one that could threaten to break apart your family or have you disowned.
You looked at Aemond. 
“Marry me. Now. In the manner of our house. Our mother and grandsire wish to keep me unmarried, in case they need to strike an alliance. I won’t allow it; I will not be sold off into some strange family with people I don’t know and who don’t love me! I will marry, now, and I will marry only a Targaryen,” you insisted. “You can marry me now, Aemond, or Aegon can take me as a second wife.”
Aemond needed no convincing; it was exactly what he’d always wanted. He had loathed your loyalty to Daeron, having wanted you for years. Your two handmaids were called into your rooms, to serve as witnesses (they were too shocked to protest, merely standing in front of the locked doors as silent and still as statues) whilst Aegon performed the rites. Although you didn’t have the traditional Valyrian wedding robes, you followed the traditional ceremony in every other way. You exchanged vows and blood, anointing each other’s foreheads with your bleeding thumbs, and kissing passionately at the end. You swore your handmaids to secrecy until the next morning when you would announce to the whole kingdom that you were wed, and dismissed them, so that you may start your wedding night.
Aegon went to your drinks table and began pouring all four of you wine. By the time he had finished and turned around, you were moaning with Helaena kneeling between your legs as Aemond unlaced your dress from behind.
“Don’t waste any time, subyss (siblings),” he laughed. He set the tray down and picked up two cups. He handed one to Aemond and took a sip of his. He fisted Helaena’s hair gently, pulling her away from your pussy. Tilting her head back, he trickled the wine from his mouth to hers. She moaned softly and swallowed obediently. Aegon tapped her bottom lip, and she extended her tongue. He spat a small glob of saliva on her tongue, then nudged her back to your pussy. “Get our little sister nice and wet for her new husband, ābrazȳrys (wife).” Helaena went straight back into your pussy, spreading your lips wide and sucking on your clit. Your legs shook and Aemond held you upright, now naked behind you.
Aegon moved forward to give you wine as he had done to Helaena, but Aemond stopped him. “I’ll feed my wife for the first time, brother,” he protested, holding the cup to your mouth. Aegon smirked and held his hands up in mock-surrender, running his free hand over your breasts. He tweaked your nipples exactly as you liked; just a little too hard, just enough to cause some discomfort. You drank from Aemond’s cup, swallowing until he took the cup away, almost empty. You gasped suddenly.
Aegon looked down. “Helaena! You know the rules, no fingers!” he snapped, pulling his sister-wife backwards gently until her hand fell away from your pussy. “Her cunt’s for Aemond, you should have asked.”
“I’m sorry, Aemond,” she pouted. “I just wanted to start preparing her.”
Aemond shakes his head. “Ask first next time, sister. As Aegon said, her cunt is mine now.” It made you throb how he was speaking about you. He kisses your cheek, “Get on the bed, dōna (sweet).”
With slightly wobbly legs, you hurried over to the bed, reclining back. You waited. Aemond walked over to Helaena, still on her knees, and lifted her finger to his mouth. He sucked deeply, savouring your taste. He nudged her onto her feet, leading both her and Aegon to where you lay on the bed.
“Help me, mandia (older sister),” Aemond smiled at Helaena, slipping a finger inside you. She smiled back, slipping in one of her own fingers back inside her little sister’s cunt. Aemond looked to Aegon. “Lēkia (older brother), you too.”
You moaned loudly on top of the sheets, feeling a third finger enter you. All three felt different inside you, moving at different angles, varying depths, contrasting speeds. You forgot about everything outside of the room, closing your eyes and basking in the sensations provided by the fingers. One was slow and gentle, exploring you sweetly; Helaena. Another moved a little deeper and more firmly; Aemond. And the final finger moved in and out of you at speed, curling at just the right angle; Aegon.
The three older siblings all looked down at your cunt together, watching in amazement how well you took three fingers for your first time. It was a glorious sight. Aemond leant down and dripped some spit onto your hole, Helaena followed by example, and Aegon finished with a grin. The noise your now slippery cunt was making was enough to have you blushing harder than you ever had before.
“Finish for us, wife,” Aemond commanded. “Show us how obedient you can be.”
Aemond and Aegon took an ankle each and spread your legs, leaving you helpless beneath them. You looked up at all of them, overcome with pleasure and submission. The three-headed dragon standing over you smiled down at you, waiting patiently for you to reach your peak. You did with a loud cry, making Helaena shoot her hand forward and stick the fingers of her free hand in your mouth.
“Quiet, sister,” she whispered. “You may be married in this room, but you are still unwed to the rest of the Keep.”
You nodded dumbly, closing your mouth around her fingers. As she always did when she had her fingers in your mouth, she moved them in and out shallowly, shivering at the feeling of your tongue tickling her digits.
“It’s time, wife,” Aemond announced, and Helaena and Aegon withdrew from your cunt. You moaned at the loss, but quickly settled as you watched Aemond stroke his cock between your legs.
Your sister climbed up onto the bed next to you. “Finally, Y/N, you won’t be a maiden any longer, sister,” Helaena whispered with excitement. “We can spend our days all together now, there’ll be no more hiding,” she smiled, so happy there would be no more need for secrecy. Well, not complete secrecy. You smiled around her fingers, even as you choked with tears in your eyes.
“Hel, let up, she’s choking,” Aegon chided, pulling his sister-wife’s fingers out your mouth. You coughed a little but kept smiling at Helaena regardless. “If you really want her mouth, give her your tits. You both love that.”
“Oh yes,” she said absently, removing her own garments. She soon settled back next to you, pressing her breast to your mouth. You latched on quickly, humming happily as your sister’s creamy milk started to let down in your mouth.
Aemond moved your knees forward to your chest. “Hold your legs, wife,” he commanded, sliding the tip of his cock through your soaking folds. You moaned around Helaena’s breast, holding yourself open for your husband.
He slid in slowly, groaning low at how deliciously tight you were. He’d never sampled a cunt like it, squeezing his every inch. You sighed softly, feeling fuller than you ever thought possible. Aemond slid slowly in and out, feeding you a little more of his cock every time he slid back in. Before long, he hit an end inside you and you whimpered, gripping your thighs.
“Here, Y/N,” Aegon leant down and rubbed your clit slowly, helping you relax into Aemond’s thrusts. Such a kind big brother.
Helaena took her breast out of your mouth after a few minutes, laying down beside you. She spread herself in front of Aegon, who happily gave her his cock. As you and Helaena lay on the bed, side by side, your husbands pounded into both of you. Your hands closest to each other reached over and rubbed each other’s clits. It was wonderfully deviant.
“Mayhaps we both conceive children tonight, hāedar,” Helaena smiled sweetly at you. You smiled widely back at her, leaning in and kissing her deeply. All four of you moaned loudly and climaxed simultaneously.
That night was long, exquisite, and sordid. You could finally be fucked, properly and thoroughly by your brothers and sister, there was no need for anyone to hold back. Helaena even ran back to her and Aegon’s rooms at one point, retrieving a thick leather phallus secured to a harness and bending you over the bed. She explained dreamily whilst thrusting into you that she had had it made a year or so before, just waiting for the day she could use it on you. After you had squirted release over the both of you, she had thrown you onto the bed, put the harness on you, and ridden you wildly. Aegon even fitted himself into her ass from behind. You blissfully watched your sister ride you, whilst getting fucked in the ass by your brother, until Aemond gripped your hair and thrust his cock into your mouth.
Aegon and Helaena removed themselves from your room at dawn – you were all so exhausted, you must all have passed out at some point – and you and Aemond curled up together in bed, secure in each other’s arms. Your maids had tentatively knocked you awake, not knowing what they would encounter. Seeing you and Aemond in bed together could not have been too surprising; they witnessed your wedding, after all. You told them to bring you and your husband breakfast in bed. Given that you were now married, you were also entitled to that luxury. They did so apprehensively, but obeyed.
Word had obviously gotten back to your mother that you had not dressed for breakfast, so she knocked on your door a short while later. “Y/N? Are you well? Your maids told me that you are breaking fast in here?”
You and Aemond smirked at each other on the bed. You’d put your robes on, but had chosen to eat your bread and fruits atop your ruffled bed sheets. “Come in, mother.”
Alicent entered, looking around the room for you. When she saw you, she froze. You could see her heart stop beating. “Y/N, what—what is the meaning of this!”
You smiled back at her. “Well, seeing as Daeron won’t be returning to Kings Landing any time soon, I took it upon myself to find my own husband.”
“Husband?” she gasped.
“Indeed, mother,” Aemond nodded after sipping his tea. “Y/N and I wed last night, in the Valyrian tradition,” there was still evidence of the blood on both your foreheads, “with our brother and sister, and Y/N’s two maids, as witnesses.”
You smiled back at the Queen. “Wedded and bedded, mother.”
“Bed…” Alicent looked faint, your maids pulling a chair over quickly. She plopped down onto the seat, no grace in the movement, staring back at you both. “How could you do this, Y/N! We told you why you had not been betrothed yet!”
“I know, and I refused to be sold off to a stranger. I have taken Aemond as my husband, and I am his wife. The union was witnessed and has been consummated. It’s done, mother.”
Otto had been livid, a hair’s breadth away from disowning you and dissolving the union. But when Aemond had moved his hand to his sword, a clear warning not to insult or threaten his wife, the Hand of the King relented. It was announced to the castle at evening meal, with the formal ceremony for the Faith of the Seven held the next morn.
And sure enough, three moons later, you and Helaena were both with child.
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So this will definitely end up a series 🤣 Let me know your thoughts!
Chapter 2
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calummss · 9 months
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20 Reasons To Love You | Klaus Mikaelson
part one: 1920s Love : masterlist
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summary: after your encounter with the original vampire, he asks you to the school dance. your salvatore cousins try to get in the way but you’re tired of being protected. you are starting to like the so called original vampire, but is it an illusion or the real deal
pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson
words: 3.1k
a/n: part 2 is finally out. i love this piece so much because just like the first the reader is confident but unsure at the same time and i think that accurate describes me and many others. here’s to my fellow klaus mikaelson lover that love him as much as i do (not possible). enjoy!!
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‘I’m here to take you to the 1920s, love.’
You stood at the door, too many words racing through your mind.
‘I don’t have a dress, I— well I never expected to go so I never bought a dress.” You sighed, each word becoming more airy as you managed to take him in. ‘I don’t have a dress…’
Dark blonde hair, pink plush lips, a white suit that fit him like a second skin. He was handsome. More handsome than you’d ever say out loud, the rumours of his behaviour and actions not scaring you, but making you tone down any infatuation that could be drawn out.
‘I thought it best you’d wear an actual dress from your decade,’ He nodded one of his witches over, his arms engulfed around a light pink box, a white ribbon decorating it. ‘I saved this for a special occasion.’ He smiled at you. ‘I think today is it.’
‘Original?’
‘Original.’
‘Oh, I couldn���t,’ your eyes never left the box, ‘I would ruin it. It’s too precious.’
He gave his witch another silent order who pushed past you to walk into the house.
‘Hello?’ You shouted at her but she was long gone.
Klaus took a closer step, so close the smell of his perfume hit you softly, ‘Do me a favour and wear it, darling. You could only do it justice. We don’t have much time now. Change.’
‘But—‘
‘No buts.’
‘Fine,’ you sighed as you took hold of the dress box, your cheeks starting you shake the apples of your cheeks, smiling ear to ear as you finally held it in your hands. ‘Wait for me.’
‘Do you even have to ask, love?’
Returning a smile you hurried away, the dress screaming to be worn as you couldn’t believe that your frame would wear something so beautiful and of such good quality from decades ago. A decade that had long been your favourite. Wearing a piece of history, brought to you by a vampire everyone seemed terrified out of their minds.
When you finally got the dress on and fixed your hair as well as jewellery, you headed back downstairs. Your heels carrying you differently; at least you thought. Klaus still stood by the entrance outside, eyeing something in the front yard.
‘How do I look?’ You called out, his head turning in an instant.
‘Like the sparkles of an ocean on an early summer morning.’
Your heart fluttered. Never had you heard anything so romantic. Whenever you asked someone they simply said pretty. Barely paying attention to the way you looked but Klaus, Klaus looked at you like a canvas. Paying attention to every detail like he was an artist, captivated by his creation. Ready to hang it up to admire it all year around.
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Arriving at Mystic Falls High School you already saw that the grounds had empty liquor bottles laying on the ground, waiting for someone to trip over. You almost were a victim. As for the people in this crowded area, they reminded you of the beer bottles: empty and pretty useless. But they were carefree; unaware of the reality that was Mystic Falls.
Every girl looked similar. All wore short flapper dresses and headbands only the colours differentiating them from one another. They looked beautiful but repeativness got boring fast. You however shined. A white satin gown, thin straps, insinuating your chest, the fabric gently hugging your curves as it pooled at your feet. Paired with a beautiful pearl necklace and a white fur scarf that completed the look. Simple but classy.
Walking up towards the entrance, you locked eyes with a certain someone you tried to ignore the entirety of the evening, but he saw you. The glare in his eyes causing you to stop in your tracks, his raven hair that blended into the night coming closer.
‘Didn’t expect to see you here, Damon.’ You mused, your right arm hooked with Klaus’, your other hand on his shoulder as you smiled at Damon.
‘Go home.’ Damon stated, his eyes drilling holes into your soul.
‘You don’t get to tell me what to do.’
‘Actually I can,’ he smirked, his stupid grin spreading heat through your limbs. ‘I am your legal guardian.’
‘Only ‘cause you killed Uncle Zach,’ you snapped, taking your arms from Klaus’ body, stepping closer to Damon, asserting yourself against him. ‘Not very guardian like?’
Damon’s head scanned the surrounding area, making sure no one could listen in. ‘Don’t cause a scene, Y/n.’
‘Don’t patronise me.’
‘Again,’ he tried suppressing his voice, ‘don’t cause a scene and go home.’
‘No.’ You snapped. ’I am going to my school dance which by the way I have more of a right to be at than you, and enjoy dancing with my date.’
‘Date from hell…’
‘Well then he isn’t much different from you after all,’ you placed your arms back in Niklaus’ arm, giving Damon a sarcastic smile. ‘Move.’
Damon didn’t move, instead he stepped closer, his eyes continuing to stay on you, his lips pressed together.
‘You heard the lady,’ Klaus said. You didn’t look at his face but you could tell he was smirking at Damon. ‘Move, Damon.’
Klaus and you stepped past Damon, walking towards the entrance, the music increasing in volume as you stepped through the door.
Down in the gym, people were already dancing. Music blasting through the room, balloons, tinsel and much more of the decorations the walls and floor carried that you dragged yourself to every Tuesday and Thursday, dreading to move. Rather wanting to participate in every girl’s favourite subjects: English and history. Walking towards the dance floor you saw Damon walking up to Alaric, their eyes on you as soon as Damon whispered something and you knew that their eyes would follow your every move.
‘What are they saying?’ You asked Klaus, your eyes still on the pair as you started swaying in rhythm. Bodies close as you felt the warmth of his body.
‘Talking about various ways to ruin our night and all the ways they can kill me.’
You pushed your tongue against your teeth, staring straight ahead into Klaus’ shoulder. ‘Damon, I know you can hear me,’ you started to whisper. ‘Leave me and my dating life alone. I’m 19 years old, not six. And don’t you dare try to ignore me or roll your stupid blue eyes at me because I will rip that little smug of your face.’ You turned around to see Alaric and Damon go towards the punch table, visibly irritated on your behalf yet still they took the hint and backed off for now.
‘I knew there was a reason I liked you.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Don’t hold back on my account.’ He chimed. ‘Feisty women are my weakness.’
‘I’m feisty?’ Not a word generally used to describe you.
‘Hmm, also confident; unsure; great company; an amazing dancer and best of all, not intimidated by me since the second you met me and found out who I was.’
You hesitated before speaking. Was it rude to ask such an invasive question? Would he answer it? Would it spark his mood to change?
‘Why is everyone so afraid of you?’ You asked in a careful tone, not sure if the vampire would switch up on you.
‘I do terrible things.’
‘People do terrible things all the time.’
‘I created new sins.’ His deep eyes gazed at you, his soft plumpish lips leaving every word ingrained into your mind, begging to know what his lips would feel like lingered onto yours.
‘Such as…?’
‘Let’s not get into it, love.’
‘I can handle it.’ You separated your body from his, staring up at him. ‘I have heard what you have done but I’ve also seen your actions: listening to me, talking to me and making me feel interesting, getting me a dress to a school dance I wasn’t planning on going to.’ You smiled slightly. ‘That takes a heart to do.’ You placed your hands above his chest, tapping lightly with an almost jestful tone. ‘And you have a pretty strong one.’
Klaus gazed at you ever so gently, his eyes flickered to your lips as his mind turned hungry at the thought of your kiss. Not craving the taste of warm blood, freshly pumped out of a human vein. No. He craved you in a way that was unfamiliar to him. Klaus wanted you to be close to him, to feel your heartbeat so close it would beat in union with his. To feel your lips on his skin, the taste of your skin without the blood. The thought of tasting your blood left an uncertain feeling in his stomach; quease mixed with disdain. He didn’t want to hurt you or leave a scratch on your skin. All he wanted was the moisture of his lips to sit upon your skin. Light, gently, accepted.
The sound of music faded when you realised you were leaning in. His eyes felt like paralysing poison as you inched closer. Your heart beat in your throat when his face came closer too. He too wanted this. You could feel his breath ricocheting off your face, and when your lips met the music stopped. His lips kissed you gently, coming back for more as one his hands slid towards your face, holding you delicately as the other went down to your back to support you. Your hands moved to his head, grabbing a handful of hair as you parted your lips to let him get a better taste of you. Your mind was blank, your stomach filled to the brim with butterflies that duplicated every second he was touching you; flattering their tiny wings as the space to move began to decrease. Every kiss grew more passionate. Air was flowing out, barely catching breath as he felt like the air you were supposed to breathe all along.
Separating from his touch you let yourself breathe, your chest falling and rising as you held his eyes, too beautiful to be true. Eyes that belonged to a killer that just held you like you were the most delicate flower.
‘Can we go somewhere more quiet?’ You leaned in, your social battery slowly decreasing as you craved a quiet and still place to be with him.
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Klaus brought you to his mansion he bought a few weeks ago, saying he was to stay in Mystic Falls for a while. His house was filled with artworks of the most incredible artists. Each piece crafted to perfection.
Guiding you to a back room you took notice of different materials and colours. Canvases and easels to hold them up. One painting was finished by the look of your eyes. It stood on an easel in the middle of the room, close to a candle light that shined just enough to admire the painting.
‘May I speak out loud my interpretation of this painting?’ Your eyes scanned the framed piece, the candle gently casting a light above the painting. ‘I know that artists want to be understood as they pour their thoughts and feelings onto the canvas, yet someone else saying out loud what the artist was too cautious to say themselves, can evoke an uncomfortableness. That someone truly understands them is more often an artist's greatest fear.’
Klaus stood by your right shoulder, silently gazing at his painting from behind your frame. His silence, his breath, made you turn your head to the side. Just enough to catch his breath on your cheek, just enough to let the corner of your mouth tip curl, allowing you to feel his intimacy.
‘I suppose the painter felt lonely whilst crafting their piece. The way dark colours engulf the lighter ones. The way the colours meet but never mix,’
His hand gently brushed along the curve of your shoulder, giving you the insight of Klaus’ guard let down when he was immersed in his art.
‘Careful and precise strokes show me the delicacy behind the fragile thoughts that are meant to be the painter’s release. The small firefly, so tiny its illuminating glow is barely caught with the first impression of the painting, is fascinating to me. Despite the painter’s sadness and pain, there must have been something in the moment that compelled them to leave behind something so coruscating. Something tells me that the painter is trying to find their way. Whether it be to themselves or to someone.’
‘The way you analyse art, Y/n, is beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?‘
‘I suppose I find beauty in darkness quite fascinating…painting or painter,’ you placed your gloved hand on top of his. The warmth of his skin pervasively fighting through the silk fabric.
‘The firefly I must admit is you. You are the firefly in my thoughts. You glow amongst the darkest part of my mind. Just the mere thought of you makes me feel like I am a different man even if I don’t want to change…’
You turned around and gave Klaus a sweet but quick kiss. ‘You don’t have to change. I like you for who you are and I must admit, this night has made me realise just how much I actually like you. It feels fast but safe at the same time.’
Klaus returned it with another kiss. ‘Normally I like a chase but I simply need to be yours.’
‘Would you ever draw me?’ An innocent question, soft- eyed waiting for a response. A small smile sweeping across his face.
‘I actually already have,’ he said, his cheeks a fair rosé, barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t pay attention but you, how you took notice of every detail that made him him.
‘You have?’ You grinned. ‘Why?’
‘I mostly paint things that mean a lot to me,’ he took a look at his paintings. ‘Mostly landscapes…and you…’
It warmed your heart but you didn’t show, only the palm of your hand pressing into your other, love overflowing your body.
‘I suppose one day I should return the favour, though I cannot promise you’ll look anything like the real you.’
Klaus let out a laugh, his eyes smiling like the crescent moon of night that shone over his garden outside. Eyes sparkling like the stars.
‘Would you like another dance outside?’ He asked, noticing your longing look at the porch, illuminated by fairy lights that left a magical feeling within you.
‘I certainly would.’
Holding out your hand you followed him outside, the slight cold breeze nothing but relaxing as you swayed with Klaus again. This time it felt nicer. Alone, just the two, surrounded by nothing but darkness and crickets of the summer night giving your silence a nice touch of tone.
‘I want to give you something,’ Klaus searched for something in his pocket. When he finally pulled it out he continued to say, ‘This vial contains vampire blood.’
You stared at the vile, red liquid calming floating behind the glass.
‘It’s my brother Elijah’s blood.’
Doe eyed and furrowed eyebrows stared back at him, ‘Why not yours?’
‘If I could, trust me I would. For a vampire there’s nothing worse than blood sharing with someone’s partner,’ he held your gaze. ‘But if I gave you my blood, little one, you would die.’
‘I don’t understand? Why would I die?’
‘Well here’s some information only my family and one witch know…I’m a vampire and a werewolf. A hybrid. If I were to feed you my blood you would die the next day. Bad blood.’
‘Oh,’ disappointment covered your words, weirdly enough bummed that it wasn’t Klaus’ blood you would be carrying around to protect you in case you needed it.
‘This blood is here for whenever you decide you want that change in your life you talked about.’ Klaus’ finger grazed against the skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. ‘I like you, Y/n and I won’t compel you to take it. I like you and if I could I would spend eternity with you. I know it hasn’t been long but you feel good for me.’
Your lips caught his. ‘Of course I will wear it.’
‘Make sure to keep it safe.’
‘I will.’ You hand found his face, giving in once more into temptation, his sensation too good for you.
You played with the vial between your fingers, a wave of warmth rushing over you as you realised just how much you liked Klaus. But as much as you liked him it was getting late…
‘I think it’s best that I go home. It is late and Damon and Stefan are probably going crazy…’
‘I’ll take you home.’
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Klaus dropped you off just before the door, watching as you safely entered the Salvatore house. And before the door even closed you could hear Damon’s taunting voice echoing through the halls of the boarding house.
‘Where have you been?’
‘With my date.’ You carelessly threw the keys to the side, walking past Damon to try and get into the kitchen to get something to drink.
‘You can’t date him, Y/n.’ Damon growled, his eyebrows pulled to his eyes as his voice grew louder. ‘He’s a bad person.’
‘Who cares?’ You uttered, pouring yourself a drink as you watched Damon pace towards you.
‘I care!’
‘Since when?!’
‘Since always!’
‘Damon,’ You breathed. ‘I love you, I truly do but are you so blind to not realise that you too are a bad person? You used Caroline; killed Lexi, Stefan’s only friend; Uncle Zach? Why can those actions be excused by literally everyone yet apparently Klaus is where we all draw the line huh?’ Words spilled from your lips as the pit in your stomach started to burn a ball of annoyance. ‘Because he shows no remorse at all? Newsflash neither did you and just because you feel it now doesn't make your actions any more excused. I like the way he is. I like the fact that he is a bad person but a good person to me. Someone that finally pays attention to me!’
Damon stayed quiet, his face obvious to the hypocrisy that everyone was participating in yet he was still angry at you and the fact that you were capable of making your own decisions no matter how bad or good they were.
‘If he hurts you don’t come crying to me,’ Damon turned around to walk away.
‘Oh please as soon as I cry because of anyone that person ends up hurt. If you’re trying to pretend not to care about me, good luck.’
‘You wish.’
‘Ah fuck,’ you whinced, a wave of pain shooting through your finger.
Damon’s vampire speed brought his feet back to you, your hand in his as he took a look at what pained you.
‘Told you so,’ you mocked.
‘Ass hat.’
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spacecapart · 11 months
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Here's something a little bit different for the Glorious 25th this year. I've had this Vimes animatic/AMV in my head for years set to the song 'Eight' by Sleeping at Last that I'll probably never have the time to do proper justice to, so here's the rough planning versions of the first six panels, which are all Night Watch-era tiny Vimes. I dare you to go and listen to that song and not have a lot of emotions about Vimes and his character arc throughout his backstory in NW, the years after, and then the main plot of Guards! Guards!, it's such a good song for him.
Image description: Rough pencil sketches of the following scenes:
Young Vimes stands at the front of a crowd of watchmen as John Keel draws a line across the training yard ground with his sword. Text: "I remember the minute…"
Young Vimes gets sworn in as a watchman, saluting while holding the King's Shilling in his other hand. Text: "It was like a switch was flipped"
Young Vimes sits in front of Captain Tilden at his desk, in a patched old-fashioned suit that's too big for him, awkwardly interviewing for his first job. Text: "I was just a kid"
Young Vimes looks at his reflection in a battered but well-polished breastplate that he holds in both hands. Text: "who grew up strong enough"
Young Vimes stands at the front of a small line of watchmen, in full armour, holding a wicker shield and looking nervous. Text: "to pick this armour up"
Young Vimes stands in front of a barricade, holding his sword and looking determined. He has a lilac blossom tucked behind one ear, and there is a lilac tree just in frame behind him. The lilac flowers are coloured in purple, standing out against the grey of the rest of the image. Text: "And suddenly it fit."
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py-dreamer · 7 months
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Long hair Macaque, my beloved-
No but srsly, one of my favourite designs is just long hair mac and in this au Mammy's figure is just mostly hair.
I was trying to recreate this screenshot:
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Obviously there's some difference like I tend to draw a bit chibi (big heads) and I didn't want to make Mac's hair THAT voluminous-
I wanted to achieve sort of a gypsy vibe with these little skrimblos
AND THEN I FOUND THESE:
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And I could NOT pass it up.
So yeah...
Oh! And I also gave the sparkly drip to their ears
(Sh!t I just realised, I forgot the shadow creatures... I'll see if I can add them in later)
I COULDN'T for the life of me figure out the hundred yard stare to match with Mac's sharp eyes (how I draw him) and not make it look goofy so I made them spoopy and glowing instead
I sadly don't have much to say about Bai He here since her black hair didn't leave that much room for shading in a darkened environment (I'm so sorry) And this piece was to show off Mac's design more anyway (I promise Bai He will get her spotlight)
(Also Bai He, nor Mk nor Macaque wears shoes. Wukong is the only one in the family who does and I find that funny)
But oh! The hair? Here comes the fun part
(No his hair isn't purple, I just used purple to shade here)
You see I WAS going to use black hair for this photo but i soon realised how much of a pain it was just to shade it (cause i couldn't) and I was just WISHING I could use his white fur instead
And then I realised....
The white fur could be his winter coat.
Some animal's shed their fur in the winter (I think some rabbits do) and grow a new coat, occasionally with a different colour.
Therefore I could make the white fur the winter coat and during the story, his fur could be black to show how much time has passed since Bai He last saw her Baba...
Mwuahahahahahhahahahaha I'm so evil
(I was very proud of myself)
(Also I know macaques don't grow winter coats but just let me have this one ok?)
And why doesn't Bai He have white fur as well then? Well maybe she's just a different kind of monkey or perhaps it's just an age thing.
Funnily enough, when I showed this to my friend, she said he looked heavenly which is funny cause. As much as I love him, Macaque is a smug bastard and he knows it.
Like I know a lot of it was due to trauma BUT STILL
I just personally dislike how the fandom sometimes makes him seem like he could do no wrong and he is "uwu delicate babygirl that needs to be protected at all costs" when this boi is fockin FERAL man.
So despite taking a bit of a back seat in the main plot for this au, Macaque is still a smug bastard behind the scenes as much as he is a good dad
(Gosh sorry for the rant, I just had that pent up for a while now and needed to get it off my chest)
I wanted to post this yesterday on Friday 13th but oh well,
I hope I achieved the mysterious spoopy vibes as the original lol
(Click photo for less sh!tty quality)
(Also pls reblog, as much as I really appreciate feedback in general, I really like this piece and want to show it to more people...)
Gosh we are on a roll with this Shadowalkers au huh?
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tahliafox · 1 year
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Weird feelings.
Natasha Romanoff x Reader.
Summary: Natasha makes you curious. 
Warnings: 18+ ONLY,  Older!Natasha, Smut, Mommy!Natasha, innocent!reader, squirting, scissoring. 
Words: 1503
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Rain pattered gently on the surface of the fogged-up window, buffering out the woosh of cars speeding through puddles outside the old brick apartment and the shouts on the TV coming from the living room. Your hair rested behind your ears and a black-ink fountain pen repeatedly tapped a jazzy melody in between your teeth as you re-read the notes taken in from a book you picked out of the library. 
The warm hue of a metal desk lamp placed adjacent from your notepad gleamed off your face, highlighting the bones in your cheek and the roseyness of your lips. The noise from the TV stopped and soft footsteps towards your office were getting increasingly loud. You sniffled, clearing your runny nose from the cold autumn and rubbed it with a kleenex. 
“Sweetheart, are you in there? Can I come in?” Your girlfriend's raspy voice bounced off the jade coloured walls. You hummed loud enough for her to hear and the dark, wooden door creaked open as she walked in. You didn’t look back, and carried on reading through your notes as you heard the door close.
Natasha walked up to you and encased your shoulders in her large, worn hands. You moaned softly in appreciation, a noise that rattled deeply in Natashas stomach, as she started to massage you whilst pressing increasingly longer kisses to the top of your head. 
“I missed you, baby.” She whispered, muffled by your hair. You smiled and tilted your head back until you could look into her eyes, upside down. Her nose scrunched up sweetly and she pressed a kiss to your forehead and caressed your jawline on either side with her thumbs. 
“I’m only here, you were about ten yards away from me.” You chuckled and pouted your lips for her to press a wet kiss against them, still upside down. 
“I saw someone on the programme I was watching that reminded me of you.” She swiveled your chair around and pulled you up by her hands. She was a good few inches taller than you, so your face ended up flush against her chest. A muscular arm wrapped around your waist whilst the other one came up to play with your hair on the back of your head. You hugged her tightly, linking your own hands together around her back.  Her chin lay gently atop your head.
“What programme?” You replied. Natasha cleared her throat and moved your head away from her chest, taking ahold of your chin with her hand whilst caressing it soothingly 
“An old one, it most likely came out before you were born, my love.” She was a good fifteen years older than you, having reached 34 years old only a few days ago. You smiled at the glow of her eyes and felt yourself blushing for an unknown reason. 
“Maybe we could watch it together.” You suggested. Natasha thought to herself for a second before smirking. 
“Oh, I don't know, baby. There are alot of mature themes in it, it might make a sweet girl like you feel weird.” 
Your face contorted into a look of confusion and Natasha couldn't help but to press a kiss against the peak of your nose.
“Weird how?” You whispered as if it was a secret. 
Natasha started walking backwards towards the emerald loveseat in the corner of the room. You followed her like a lost puppy, and when she sat down you were tugged onto her lap. Whilst straddling her, you put your hands on her neck and pressed your freshly-done, long  acrylics into the nape of it. Soft, half moon shapes appeared under your fingertips and Natasha bit her lip. 
“Tingly weird.” She whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose down your back and you started to think that the current feeling you had was the one she was talking about. 
“Where?” You wanted confirmation. 
“Here,” Natasha pressed her hands flush against your chest, then slid them over your breasts to your stomach, “here,” then down to cup your vagina “and mostly here.” Her voice had turned deep and raspy, only part of the sentence being spoken, the other part came out a seductive whisper. 
You looked up at her through your eyelashes and whimpered. “I think it feels weird now.”
Natasha swallowed and took in a deep breath through her nose. “Yeah? Has my sweet little girl gotten all wet for her mommy.” You blushed deeply as her fingers started to play with the hem of your little, cotton shorts. “That's ok, princess. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” She hummed. “Why don't you let mommy take a look. Maybe I could make it all better for you, wouldn’t you like that?”
You instinctively nodded your head and Natasha patted your thigh, signaling for you to stand up. You did, then she pulled down your shorts and panties in one causing a cold breeze hit your private parts. You shuddered. A small string of arousal that had coated your pantied broke against the inside of your thigh. It glistened and Natasha licked her lips. 
“Fuck, look at you.” Natasha whined when she saw how turned on you had gotten in a matter of minutes. “God, you’re my perfect girl aren't you, dollface. Made specifically for mommy, and mommy only, isn't that right?”
You nodded and Natasha pulled your hips to her face. She placed kisses across your hip bones, decorating them with her red lipstick, then smacked her lips together to press one more kiss right above your clit. She pulled her phone from her pocket, put it onto the camera but not before gripping your hips so tightly her hand print was marked on either side of you. A quick flash of the camera captured the lipstick marks and handprints, as well as the glistening of your thighs and top of your cunt. 
Natasha moaned to herself and threw the phone across the couch. “Hold still for me, baby.” She said before kicking your legs apart with your feet and licking a bold stripe up the length of your cunt. Slender fingers gripped her auburn locks, your nails scratched into her skull. Soft whines and whimpered flooded the room as she ate you out vigorously. 
“Mommy.” You whined. Natasha sucked on your clit and your hips twitched into her. “M’gonna cum. Feels so good.”
“You taste so good, baby. Keep being so sweet for mommy, like this. You're doing so well for me angel.” she pulled back and praised you and then went back to eating you out.
She sucked hader and grabbed your ass in her hands, gripping it then smacking it lightly. Your chin tilted back and your hands held her hair tighter as you fell over the edge. A coil snapped in your stomach and the pulsing ache of an orgasm overtook everything. 
Natasha licked all of your cum and swallowed before pulling you back onto her lap. Your wet cunt pressed against the rough material of her jeans, the belt buckle hit your clit. Her forehead pressed against yours and you pecked at her lips.
“You did so well for me, baby. Mommy is so proud of you.” 
Her hands pulled at your hips again, grinding you on her jeans. The rough surface scratched against your cunt, leaving a wet mark on her crotch. Natasha’s lips pressed against yours again, until she opened them and slid her tongue onto yours. 
The feeling of her hands and jeans made it hard for you to kiss her back, so she used your mouth as you whimpered and moaned into hers. “Just like that, my angel.” she whispered hotly. Her breath fanned your face and you dropped your head to her shoulder. “Keep moving your hips like that, god you're turning mommy on so much, sweet girl.”
Suddenly you were pushed on your back, flat against the sofa and Natasha had stood up to take her jeans and panties off. You watched in awe as she got back on top of you and caressed your hips, pressing her cunt flush against yours. 
Both of your moans were loud, and the feeling of her cum was so much gentler and soothed the burn of her jeans. Natasha started grinding her hips against yours and you fidgeted under her hands. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Mommy’s going to cum, already. God, you feel so good, so sinful.” she groaned against your neck, biting down on it occasionally. Her moans got increasingly louder, as did yours, and her movements became reckless. “Oh god, I'm going to squirt all over your pretty pussy, baby. Come on, come for mommy, with mommy. My perfect, sweet girl.”
Natasha did as she said, and came, with you following shortly after. Spouts of liquid hit your stomach and ruined the sofa underneath you. Natasha collapsed into you and wrapped her strong arms around your waist.
Her eyes scanned your fucked-out face and she whined again. “I love you so much, my angel.”
“Love you too, mommy.” You slurred back.
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Text
Easter Egg Hunt
requested?: no pairing(s): husband!choi seungcheol x wife!reader, daughter!choi ji-a x mother!reader, daughter!choi ji-a x father!choi seuncheol, daughter!choi chin-sun x mother!reader daughter!choi chin-sun x father!choi seungcheol genre: fluff warning(s): nothing, just fluff summary: 𝘯/𝘢 word count: 388 a/n: i promise i will get the chishiya request done, i just thought i would write something to do with the holiday. happy easter everyone! remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah!
you and cheol had two daughters, ji-a and chin-sun. they were both twins, and even though it was hard for the both of you, you both managed.
at the moment, it was easter. you were outside with the twins, and they were doing an easter egg hunt.
"chin-sun, you have to find the purple wrapped eggs, and ji-a, you have to find the pink ones" your husband spoke. the two girls in front of you were ecstatic.
"you both have 17 each to find" you add.
not long later, they were both practically running around the back yard of your house, looking for the eggs while you and cheol stood there, watching the both of them.
whenever they found an egg, they would squeal, and even though you had assigned them colours so they wouldn't get mixed up, they were just finding any random colour, but they were doing it together.
"at least they aren't fighting" cheol whispered in your ear, wrapping his arms around you from the back.
"mommy! daddy!" the two girls yelled as they both ran up to you, showing you both their baskets. they were both full.
"me and ji-a found them all!" the younger girl spoke.
"and we didn't fight at all momma!" ji-a spoke up.
"well done girls, lets go and eat them hm, and watch a movie all together" you said. the two girls took your hands as you walked in together.
a few minutes later, you were all sat on the sofa, chin-sun was cuddled up to cheol, whereas ji-a was cuddled up to you. cheol had his arm wrapped around you, and the two girls were asleep.
cheol looked at you, and you looked at him. he enjoyed these days, where he had all of his favourite girls cuddled up to him, he smiled at you, then leaned in for a kiss, careful not to wake the two girls up.
he let your lips go with a small popping sound.
"i love you" he whispers "and i love our girls" he adds.
"i love you all too" you whisper back.
he smiles before taking your lips in another tender kiss. you heard noises of disgust come from below, you both pulled away and laughed as you saw your daughters' disgusted faces.
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 year
Text
❝ Line of Sight ❞
poly!Billy Loomis & Stu Macher X easily distracted!reader | fluff | graphic descriptions of violence
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Billy and Stu adore their boyfriend, so they keep an eye on him due to the fact that he has this odd but adorable tendency to get...distracted.
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#1, PURPLE FLOWERS "D'you believe in past lives?" Billy paused his rummaging and from behind his locker door he peered at his boyfriend, Stu, who was leaning on the row of lockers beside Billy's. "What type of question is that? Ya' been smoking pot again?" his arms, already sore from last night's activities, pinched as he added the weight of the AP Biology textbook among the binders full of notes. He readjusted his grip, shutting the locker as Stu jerked his chin across the hall. Bumping their shoulders together as he mimicked Stu's pose, Billy's gaze followed Stu's to the windows that lead to the school's front yard. There (Y/N) was, knees tucked under him and backpack forgotten by his side with his face in gentle awe at the flowers that had grown near one of the trees. That would explain why you weren't in the hallways like your boyfriends were. You probably were on your way but caught a glimpse of those purple petals and simply could not resist yourself. "I'm guessing that in his past life, he was a puppy" Stu chuckled. "Small attention span, ya' know? Gnawing on your ankles, trippin' over his widdle paws" Billy cocked a brow, a lopsided grin climbing his face at Stu's curled hands swiping at the air - like a puppy, he says. Billy thinks he looks like a lanky mantis shrimp. "Does he know classes are about to start?" he asked and Stu laughed. "S'he look like he does? Come on, let's collect our puppy and send him on his way" he all but cooed. The taller of the two shouldered open the school doors, wincing as he'd inadvertently put pressure on a cut he'd received - also from last night's endeavours. "What d'you think I was in my past life, Billy boy?" he let the question linger in the air as they came up behind (Y/N), who was none the wiser. He never got his answer, not that he minded, because (Y/N) had turned his attention to the murderous duo with a blinding smile that made the sun burn with jealousy as the winds ushered the clouds away like show curtains - it still paled in comparison to (Y/N)’s beauty.
“Classes are about to start” Billy put his back to the tree whilst Stu plopped himself next to (Y/N). “I know” bemoaned (Y/N) “but I saw these and they just reminded me of you two” he presented them with a mice-sized bouquet of fragile, dusty purple flowers with a deep vinyl colour in the centre, and meekly twirled it between his thumb and pointer fingers.
“We aren’t pretty like some dainty flower” Stu plucked it from (Y/N)’s hold, its petals tickling his boyfriend’s cheek as Stu tucked it by his ear. “But I am?” (Y/N) mused, squinting his eyes at Stu. Billy’s touch, which had always been cold, sent shivers as he placed his hand on (Y/N)’s head; “The prettiest little devil we’ve ever met”
The bell rang but the three boys stayed ever so enamoured with each other, more and more flowers decorating each other.
Everyone paid no mind as purple flowers kept falling from (Y/N) as he moved from class to class - though the nickname flower boy persisted for a few weeks despite how uncreative it was. (Y/N)’s boyfriends thought it was cute.
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#2, COOL ROCK
In all honesty, Stu wondered why Billy had chosen this location as a date. He constitutes eating with a good movie, cuddling, making-out, and maybe some bed shaking sex as a good date not taking a walk through the Woodsboro woods.
But, it was nice.
The tests and quizzes…thank fuck this would be the final test for a good while before university rolls in. Well, that is if he aces it.
“Baby” he snaps out from his reveries and turns to see (E/C) coloured eyes with their eyebrows sloped in concern. “You went quiet, everything okay?” Billy halts from ahead, hands shoved in his pockets as he wonders why the two had lagged.
“Yeah, yeah” Stu’s rubs the back of his head and his shoulders droop as (Y/N)’s fingers slip in his hands.
“What’s up?” Billy inquired once they caught up. (Y/N) shakes his head, telling him not to worry too much as he reaches to hold Billy’s hands as well. “He thought he heard something” he soothed them both by rubbing his thumb over their lightly bruised knuckles. “Yeah?” Billy didn’t sound convinced and (Y/N) pursed his lips at him as they made eye-contact.
“Yeah, wolf or something…” Stu continued which made Billy eye him then glance around unsurely. (Y/N) snorted, rolling his eyes. People assumed Billy was the cool headed, suave, Cassanova. Which, to his credit, he was...sometimes. Meanwhile, people assume Stu was the airheaded, frantic, hyperactive comedy relief of your relationship.
They did not know how romantic Stu was, or how smart he was. His extrovertedness along with his bubbly attitude was often mistaken as some sort of weakness - if only they knew how terrifying it was how closely intergrated Ghostface was in Stu’s very soul.
How for Billy, he can hang the robe and mask in the closet. Despite how it peers from the darkness, creaks it open and makes the walls shake from its breathing when it demanded attention.
Stu? The line between him and the mask was a blurred line in the sand that he barely notices. He is Ghostface, with or without the mask.
He’s like…he’s like a…an…a…
There was a twinkle from the corner of (Y/N)’s eyes.
Your boyfriend’s were debating the existence of a wolf and mountain lion hybrid when you spotted the glimmering ‘gem’.
“After this, we’re getting something nice and warm, right?” Stu batted his lashes and Billy nodded, not quite registering the loss of weight and warmth from his left hand as he peeked at the treetops. “Yeah, might be good, it’s getting pretty cold lately” Stu allowed the satisfying crunches of the dead leaves on the forest floor to distract him from (Y/N)’s hand slipping away.
That and Stu’s anxiety of the uncertain future with Billy simultaneously unsure of how to bring the topic up himself. Thankfully, Stu unknowingly made a segway to the conversation for the perfect opening.
“Why’d you even drag us out here, Billy?” Stu whined, kicking a stick out of the way. Billy paused, sighing a bit and moving to bump their shoulders.
“You looked like you were about to damn near cry while staring at your textbook and my head was about to explode anyways, so was our (Y/N)’s. I figured a walk in the woods would help us” Stu realizes that it was more for him because Billy had been silently skimming through some English assignment while (Y/N) had been half-asleep on Stu’s bed. He pressed a kiss to Billy’s jaw, effectively making them pause as he fully held Billy’s face in his hands to kiss him.
He mumbled (Y/N)’s name into the kiss while the corners of his mouth lifting as he grasped Stu’ waist; “(Y/N) also promised me I’d get some kisses from both of my boys if I did as I was asked, he suggested it…” Stu wondered why he stopped midsentence but then he looked around, blood going cold as all he saw was trees and more trees.
“(Y/N)! Baby!” Stu called, interlacing his fingers with Billy as they called out for you. They weren’t too worried about scouring the woods for you as they dredge through here at night often - to evade curious eyes as they carried their equipment around - along with the fact that you couldn’t have possibly been that far.
“(Y/N), come on! Where are you, doll?” Billy called out, retracing their steps down the path as they attempted to spot their darling boyfriend.
“I’m here!” a voice came from behind an overturned tree, the two raced over and blinked owlishly as (Y/N) held up his palm to show them -
“A rock?” Billy brushed his bangs back, holding it in his hand as he turned it around. He even held it up to catch the light, it twinkled shyly under (Y/N)’s lovers gaze.
“It’s a pretty rock! It’s shiny!” he defended as he rose from his knees, dusting the dirt away from his (insert bottom attire).
“You seriously let go of our hands for a rock, baby?” (Y/N) pouted as Stu pulled him into his side, pressing a kiss to his temple all while Billy continued to inspect the rock. “Hey, quit it! I’ve never seen a rock as shiny as that, okay” he huffed, reaching for it while Billy evaded his attempts.
“No, no, answer his question” Billy ‘frowned’ and Stu giggled, “A rock over us?”
“You guys are assholes!” (Y/N) exclaimed making his boyfriends laugh with complete glee.
The shiny rock stayed on Stu’s desk, googly eyes glued on as it weighed down a note that read;
Don’t lose your head over the small stuff. You’ve got this, baby. We love you - (Y/N) + Billy ♡
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#3, SHINY KEYS?
In all fairness, (Y/N) thought it was lovely how his boyfriends insist on either one of them holding his hand or both at the same time. But surely, they must not think he was that helpless. Call him crazy but clammy hands was not a cute thing to feel despite how nice of a gesture it was to be holding hands. He’d slipped away a few times, only a few! Nothing bad happened. If anything, most of the time, (Y/N) came back with trinkets!
Well, there was that one time when Stu was hosting a party to let loose and some guy’s cousin from a neighbouring high school had shoot his shot which ended with him getting practically beheaded with a hunting knife by two annoyed Ghostface’s a week or so later.
But, (Y/N) was completely fine!
“I am not that bad” he retorted for the fourth time and Billy simply squeezed their hand and kissed his temple.
“Don’t be a big baby about it”
“Yeah, you saying ya’ don’t like holding hands?” Stu swings their arms together and (Y/N)’s mouth twitches as he fights the urge to smile. “M’not a big baby, I’m a grown man!” a few heads turned towards the trio as they made their way down the street. “Yeah, because grown men yell that they’re grown men” Billy grunted as he was elbowed. “I will castrate you” (Y/N) hissed, “You like my dick too much to do that” he braced himself for another elbow but Stu’s gasp saved him from the wrath of his boyfriend.
“Dude, they opened up an ice cream and waffle place!” Stu tugged his boyfriends across the street, (Y/N) yelping as frantically made sure they weren’t going to become the first hand-holding trio to end up in the ER as some sort of human pretzel’s.
“Jesus, didn’t take long to replace that shitty old man’s shop” Billy muttered with a cruel smirk. The butcher who used to own the shop lot had been a mean asshole who often sold even older cuts of meat for a hefty price. He’d brag his family had practically been the first butchers in Woodsboro and how it was a piece of the town’s history when one bought his product.
You’d think with that as a selling point more people would’ve mourned when he ended up as a corpse, bled-out and hanging from the hook in some pig farmer’s barn. The brutality certaintly shocked everyone but the funeral service held for him had been a dreary affair, with only a handful of people.
“His kid sold it” (Y/N) said as he looked at the menu on the chalkboard sign propped next to the door, “Heard from his grandkid, ya’ know Brandon from theatre?” Billy nodded “Yeah, well, his grandpa was in debt so Brandon’s father decided to sell it”.
“Brandon is related to that geriatric bag of bones?” Stu laughed, clutching his stomach. His boyfriends joined. Well, to be far, the guy was the nicest person you could possibly meet so it was a jarring surprise to know he is related to such a grumpy man.
“Think we did him a favour” Billy curled an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder with his other placed on his hip. “When Christmas rolls around, I’m betting he’ll get some extra shit out of pity” he continued while Stu moved forward to peek inside the store.
A few familiar faces stuck out to him, they waved in recognition and he glanced at Billy and (Y/N) to gesture for them to head in. Shrrugging, they went along. Stu was the most extroverted - a natural people’s person. It wasn’t unusual for him to be pulled aside to chat with someone. Neither Billy nor (Y/N) minded, especially in this case seeing as they could squeeze in some dessert.
A group of people walked towards the entrance as the three walked in, a gasp of Stu’s name making traffic stop.
Truth be told, Billy had thought he had him leashed to him by his hand alone but by the time the group of school mates had passed through the threshold, he was not there.
Cue the usual song and dance of the lovers heads swivelling and eyes darting to catch a glimpse of (Y/N).
Stu motioned for his friends to wait as he stepped out fully and called out (Y/N)’s name.
“Stu, I’m here!” came the sheepish reply, there he stood in front of a neighbouring store. Their shoulders sagged in relief, lips pursed endearingly as they walked to stand on either side of him.
It was an antique store. Billy swore he could smell it through the display glass, the dust and nostalgia of all sorts of trinkets that were once loved. (Y/N) lifted his hand and pointed to a clever showcase of keys on a string that decorated the top left and rights of the display window. Big, old and clunky but swaying ever so slightly from th ventilation within the store.
They twinkled under the light.
“Puppy,” Stu snickered which earned a head tilt from (Y/N) - it further cemented his claim.
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#4, PIZZA
They did it. They fucking did it. They graduated. What better way to celebrate then a date at the new mall?
Stu had outdone his usual parties with the one he had thrown just a few days ago - the three of you were still finding confetti in all sorts of corners in Stu’s house - it was a real Gatsby. Even Billy had found himself dancing in the crowd, feverishly and unabashedly squeezing (Y/N) between Stu and himself.
Now, with that done and over with, it was time for a more private celebration.
(Y/N)’s boyfriends were keeping him in the centre, Stu’s hand around his waist while Billy held a few bags of dorm essentials. Last-minute shopping squeezed into a date, it was usual with the boy’s hectic life and double life.
“That movie sucked” Stu said, “fake blood never looked faker”. (Y/N) rolled his eyes, placing his head on Stu’s shoulder.
“Not everyone’s a murder and horror movie expert, Mr Ghostface” Stu narrowed his eyes at (Y/N)’s teasing tone, grip tightening. He knew what that particular nickname did to his lovers. Billy’s stomach grumbling made their eyes shoot towards his warm face.
“Hungry, baby?” (Y/N) received a sigh and nod. They continued walking as they wondered what they should eat. This mall was huge, and all sorts of restaurants were squeezed into every corner. But that was not where the problem lay.
“Why the fuck would I eat raw fish?” Stu scoffed “We might as well hit the pet store and ate the goldfish”.
“A California roll isn’t as fucking stupid as Italian food made from some American red neck” Billy snapped “I’m the one that’s fucking hungry, I should choose”.
“Nah, no - (Y/N), you choose”
A pause, the escalator they were on continued it’s task of sending the two boys to the upper level with their lover nowhere to be seen.
Unlike the times before, however, calling out your name and retracing their steps did not work. For the first time, they felt cold sweat erupt as they shared a glance. Sure, no real harm could have come to (Y/N), and he was full and well capable of protecting himself. But he was also someone that had walked into a pole, thrice.
“(Y/N)” Billy called out as he and Stu reached the third floor of the mall, nearing the kid’s arcades and all when he finally spotted (Y/N)…
Talking to someone in a brown bear mascot that had a top hat, bow tie and microphone in one of his hands.
“(Y/N)!” he perked up as his boyfriends came into view and waved them over. The man who wore the suit narrowed his eyes at the two, a flash of recognition in his eyes as they came by (Y/N)’s side.
“David, this is Billy and Stu, Billy and Stu, David” Billy paid little attention, just noticing the fact that one of the gloves David was supposed to wear was off and in his hand was a cell phone.
(Y/N)’s name typed down along with his number.
Stu slipped his hands around (Y/N)’s waist, slipping a hand up his shirt which he did little to react too - seemingly used to it.
David’s face fell, expression clear as day despite the shadows of the suit.
“He was talking about this deal they had!” (Y/N) chirped out, showing them the flyer with the establisments name written in a whimsical font.
FREDDY FAZBEAR’S GRAND OPENING!
“How’d you even find this place?” Billy took the flyer, feigning interest as he cocked a brow at David. Who, by the way, realized where he recognized (Y/N) from; he was the boyfriend of Billy Loomis and Stu Macher and he was untouchable.
“While you two were arguing I saw a flyer so I decided to scope around, didn’t think you’d mind considering how serious the discussion of spaghetti and sushi was” he mused, leaning against Billy as he passed the flyer to Stu who had not let his eyes leave the poor part-timer.
“And David…explained the deal?” Stu inquired and (Y/N) nodded “Yeah, we even exchanged our numbers so he’d get us the best seats in the house” he cooed and David shifted uncomfortably as (Y/N)’s boyfriends gazed at him with daggers in their eyes.
“Why the hell would we even eat a kids place with creepy animatronics?” Stu retorted “Let’s bounce, this is laaame”.
There was an edge in Stu’s voice. It often did when he decided to use this sharp-tongued persona - which rarely came out…unless he was particularly annoyed.
(Y/N) rolled his eyes but shrugged and gave David an apology as they eventually walked off to some sushi place.
“Woodsboro police department reports the dead body found within the suit of the Freddy Fazbear Pizzaeria mascot is identified to be David Perron. His body was found mutilated and stuffed within the mascot and dragged into the ball pit of the establishment. Authorities are saying this might be the work of the infamous serial killer, Ghostface -“
Stu turns the radio off, (Y/N) squealing as he bounced his knees - effectively making the boy in his lap jump and hold him tighter.
“Stu!” he laughed, the wind in his hair as Billy rested a hand on the back Stu’s headrest. The roof of Billy’s new convertible was down, letting the three lovers feel the blissful breeze and gentle warmth of the California sun.
“Bounce, bounce!” Stu cheered which made Billy peek at the two of them from over the rim of his sunglasses.
“Come on, baby, celebrate!”
“I’m not jumping on your lap in the car! Dumbass!” Stu was no deterred as giggles poured out of (Y/N)’s mouth, his lips attacking (Y/N)’s neck with tongue and teeth.
“The sweater looks better on the floor” Stu purred, hissing sharply as Billy tugged his hair back as he nonchalantly drove with one hand on the wheel. The sweater all three of them were wearing had the logo of the university they’d been accepted into and the one they were making their way towards.
“Billy” Stu whined, the wind muffling it as (Y/N) leaned to kiss Billy and shortly after, turned the radio on. Their favourite song blasted and the lovers rode off, cheering and whooping.
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dankpunks · 1 year
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Afternoon delight — Ellie Williams
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Summary: patrol has pushed you to your limits luckily ellie is able to help you relax a bit more.
Warning(s): drug use (marijuana), pet names, shotgunning, light touching, suggestive actions, mature themes.
authors note: had this bouncing around my brain like the old dvd logo so i thought i’d share! NOT proofread
reblog’s and feedback would be much appreciated!!<3
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It was freezing and you were exhausted as you trudged your way through the thick snow to Ellie’s place cutting through Joel’s front yard before making it to her front door and lazily pounded on it till you could hear shuffling from inside.
Letting out a deep sigh when Ellie comes into view a weak smile pulling across your lips as you let your eye scan over her form. She’d look a bit dazed hair pulled into a messy bun..— if you can even call it that having the majority of it falling over her shoulders. Her dopey form slouched a bit as her oversized sweater swallowed her upper body and the tops of her thighs the shorts she was wearing slightly peaking out from the bottom of the sweater and her feet clad in some thick wool socks.
“Hi gorgeous, i didn’t think i’d see ya’ tonight“
Ellie would shift her weight from foot to foot as she hugged her own frame trying to keep warm as she shivered from the bitter cold air flooding into her warm room.
“—get your ass in here m’freezing.”
You’d smile fondly looking back up into her eyes with a giggle before stepping forward with your arms out ready to snuggle into her. Ellie would give you a goofy smile pulling you into her arms while swinging the door shut behind you with her free hand. Ellie would hum quietly wrapping both her arms around your middle tightly while her lips pressed against your forehead, then your cheek and lastly your nose causing you to scrunch it up at the touch laughing loudly as your try to shove the freckled girl away with no avail.
“Ellie! —Ellie stop! you’re getting your slobber on m-me!”
You stutter between giggles as ellie pulled away letting you have a good look at her. Her freckled cheeks were flushed a deep shade of pink along with the tip of her nose, her pupils blown— almost completely void of colour, she was chewing on her bottom lip trying to keep herself from laughing at your flustered state.
Tugging one of your hands free from her hold you’d rest it on Ellie’s cheek lightly letting your fingers brush over the scattered freckles. Ellie let out a quiet sign her body seemingly relaxing almost melting into your touch before she’d lean into your hand making you smile fondly. You were absolutely in love with this girl.
You’d stay like that for a couple moments letting your eyes glance over the room catching the jar of pre-rolls you two had found at Eugene’s while on patrol. Your eyes landed on the mostly smoked joint in the makeshift ash tray before putting two and two together.
“bug.. you smoked without me?”
You fake pout, jutting out your bottom lip as you let your eyes travel back to hers seeing them soften at your words. she reached up brushing her thumb over your bottom lip chuckling quietly before leaning in and pecking them.
Wordlessly ellie would drop her arms before grabbing your hand in her rough and callused ones. Tugging you over to the worn out couch that she had spent most of her day off occupying seeing a couple blankets and snacks scattered on the couch and small coffee table.
Ellie would plop onto the couch with a huff dragging you down with her almost landing in her lap you’d laugh loudly breaking your fake facade from moments ago. Ellie would be all teeth, smiling from ear to ear as she watched your face light up.
“ahh there she is! No more pouting.. here ya’ go baby—“
She’d reach over to the jar plucking out a fresh joint and her lighter before scooting back into the couch and turning her body so she was facing you with her leg up on the couch. She’d lean her body closer to yours raising her hand with the joint between her fingers, she’d tap your bottom lip with her knuckle. You feel almost transfixed by her mannerisms— biting her lip as she studied yours.
Slowly parting your lips to accept the joint your eyes fluttering up to hers again as you watched her slightly she tilted her head a small smirk forming on her lips as she flicked the lighter to life. Her thin fingers inched closer to your lips eyes trained on the small band of silver you had given her months prior that never seemed to leave her index finger.
She’d lean in closer as she lit the joint dropping her free hand to lay on your thigh as it sizzled to life. You’d inhale deeply letting the smoke fill your lungs, your eyes fluttering closed as your shoulders relaxed into the couch more. You’d pull it away from your lips dropping your head back to let the thick smoke drift from your mouth slowly.
Ellie would be lost in thought mesmerized by every mundane action coming from you, her high making her brain foggy and her lips feel dry. She’d lick her lips letting herself focus on the way yours moves, wrapping around the joint again to take another drag as the cherry glowed ellie would take a sharp intake of air leaning forward again.
The freckled girl chewed on her bottom lip out of habit reaching her hand up to your chin pulling lightly to have you look at her again.
“god— you have no idea how beautiful you are do you?”
She’d guide you closer to her by her icy fingers on your chin only inches apart the smoke you exhaled still lingering in the air between you two.
“—Drivin’ me crazy.”
She’d say in a hushed tone her voice sounding more rough then normal causing you to silently thank the budding flower you two were smoking. You could feel her breath on your lips and her hand sliding further up your thigh causing you to let out a shaky breath your eyes trailing from her eyes down to her lips causing Ellie to let out a chuckle before pulling further away from your frozen form.
She’d snatch the burning joint from your finger to place it between her lips with a smile, her hand on your thigh making it feel like your skin was on fire as she tapped her fingers lightly.
Ellie truly had you wrapped around her fingers just watching her as she inhaled deeply reaching over to stub out the glowing end into the ashtray the smoke still lingering in her lungs as she leaned back into you. Her hand raising to your hip tugging you closer as well causing your breath to hitch as you realized what she was doing.
Your mind was hazy as the freckled girl pressed her lips to your parted ones exhaling the thick smoke into your mouth as your eyes closed melting into her rough touch. It burned as it filled your lungs that and just the mere touch of her lips on yours setting your body aflame. You reluctantly pulled away feeling slightly light headed from the smoke and her lips, you’d let out the smoke trying to avoid Ellie’s close face.
“Now, how are ya’ feeling baby?..— a little more relaxed i hope.”
She’d have a shit eating grin on her face, her eyes darker then normal and her cheeks extremely flushed though you mirrored her look perfectly. Your mind was fizzling with how much you wanted her and to just have her lips on you again.
You took in a sharp breath as she inched closer to you yet again this time towards your ear her breath and her next words sending a shiver down your spin and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“—If not.. well.. i do have other means to help you relax.”
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dpr-stay · 10 months
Text
The Moon | YT22
Chef Au! Yuki Tsunoda x Reader
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, i think a few swears, the feels, i don't think i referred to gender.
WC: ~5.1k
Did i do this instead of course work? Maybe Do I regret it? Maybe Anyways, Yuki's so acts of service coded. I may have read a little too much 'the bear' fanfic whoops. also i only listened to winter cafe by lamp while writing this so bam. i'm a mobile user anyway.
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The restaurant had been closed for a few hours at this point, the full-moon well having claimed the spot of the sun, the darkness of night taking over for a few hours till the early morning sunrise peaked over the horizon and you woke again.
You would probably have to get a taxi, you thought to yourself as you peeked through the gap between the kitchen and the empty dining area through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, you wouldn’t be able to walk home tonight.
You lived in a very safe place, so you weren’t necessarily scared of being kidnapped or the like. You just hated the dark. You’d always hated the dark, you didn’t fear the things in it or the possibilities it held, just the feeling of not being able to see. That feeling had always unsettled you, even as a baby.
Your mum had always told stories of you not being able to sleep anywhere but her side during your primary years. She always brought it up for a laugh over tea with the other ladies in the small town where you grew up, their fake laughter resounding through your ears as you sat at the end of one of the ladies ornate couches and sipped quietly from your cup, taking up as little space as possible. 
Those tea parties were always the worst, sitting in a stuffy room of grown-up’s who could only tell stories of their past, too afraid of the future. You were always the youngest as well, the older children looking down on you when you tried to play with them. 
Your only respite was the pastries eventually served sometime during their get-together. You’d come back in from one of the ladies' backyards, your fill of solitarily walking around her yard ten times sufficiently achieved, and you’d see the most lovely pastries piled high on tables you couldn’t quite reach.
A little stumbling and you’d finally reach the table, climbing on the chairs to be able to grab them, their intricate shapes, different colours, and varying textures meaning you tried every variation of every sweet you could find. This always prompted laughter among the older ladies, you being dubbed the ‘Sweet Thief’. You were not sure if this was meant to be affectionate or insulting, but your mother’s sharp gaze when you got back into the car after the party clued you in to the latter.
The opening of the office door snapped you out of your reverie and you looked back to see your boss exit the small room, where he had been doing paperwork. He barely glanced at you as he grabbed a sponge and started to wipe down the steel work benches, muttering under his breath. 
You moved from your spot of being perched on your tiptoes to look through the serving gap and shuffled into the office to grab soap from under the sink, quickly pouring a measuring cups worth into the mop bucket before filling the bucket up the rest of the way with water. A quick twist of the mop head in the bucket mixed the soapy water before you shuffled back out of the office, dragging the bucket with your feet.
You moved in silence, him wiping down the benches with his sponge, cloth, and spray kit and you mopping the floor, trailing after him as to not make him stand on the wet floor. When you finished mopping you pushed the bucket out the backdoor before crouching down and tipping the dirty water down the drain installed in the middle of the concrete patio.
While the water drained, you looked up and absorbed your surroundings. The moon shone down onto the landscape, hundreds of green paddies stretching as far as the eye could see, paths between the patches appearing to resemble snakes the further the eye looked. You could occasionally see the headlights of cars flash on roads that wound along the mountains that enclosed the large valley, people with their own lives hurrying to make it somewhere. Anywhere. 
One car caught your attention and you found yourself speculating. Maybe it was an important businessman being driven by his chauffeur? Could it be a runaway child being driven back to his parents? You watched until the car disappeared, it’s fading lights causing you to squint against the harsh light shining down on you.
You looked up at the lightbulb that Yuki had installed quietly after you’d told him of your fear of the dark and cursed. Darn the thing for being so bright! Your head snapped back down and you started rapidly blinking, scrunching your face as you blinked. 
When you got your vision back, you stood up and grabbed the bucket, lugging it back into the building. The door opened when you nudged it with your foot and you quickly put the mop back in its place before moving back to the kitchen. 
A quick look at Yuki confirmed that he was nearly done with his clean up routine and you moved to the small employee area, where you grabbed your phone and keys from a small pigeon-hole before grabbing your jacket from a hook and making your way back to the kitchen, trying to put on your coat as you walked.
Yuki looked at the sound of the door opening and a small smile came onto his face as he saw you, holding all of your items with one hand and struggling to put your jacket on. He dropped the cloth he was holding, wiping the residue away onto his apron, before he walked over to you and taking your jacket off your floundering form. He held it out so that you could weave your free hand into the sleeve before you swapped your stuff to your other hand and he held out the other sleeve for you to put your arm through. He nodded at you when he was done and power-walked back to his station, cleaning with vigor.
“Are you leaving yet?” He asked with his back turned. You nodded, paused, then began speaking. “Oh! Yeah, I think I’ll just wait till a taxi comes around and then I’ll go.” You said and he shot a curious glance back at you which you returned with a smile. He continued wiping down, his pace increased.
“That could take hours, y’know.” He said after a second and you sighed, leaning back against one of the benches. You were lucky he was turned around, not prepared to cop the brunt of his ‘are you serious, I just cleaned that’ glare. 
“Hopefully it won’t, I might still be here when you come for opening.” He released a small laugh and you both descended into a comfortable silence. You grabbed your phone to see you had 0 notifications, a pleased sigh releasing from your throat.
Opening the taxi app for your area, you saw that the expected time for a taxi was indeed a couple hours and you groaned. You didn’t see Yuki’s shoulders tense at your sound, too absorbed in your phone.
“You were right.” You half-whined to your boss, too tired to care. He chuckled and shook his head.
“You shouldn’t stay back so late.” He murmured, before turning around and beginning to take off his apron. You didn’t comment on his arm muscles as he undid the knot. He moved around you to place his apron on a hook before looking at you.
“I could drive you home, you know.” He said, almost hesitantly, and you paused, stunned. You and Yuki were pretty close, very good friends out of work and you worked insanely well together during work, but you’d never progressed past meeting outside of work.
It was a line you both hadn’t crossed yet though sometimes you wished you had. Clearing the thought from your mind, you cleared your throat, leaning back and eventually nodding, hoping you covered your shock. 
“Uh y-yeah. That sounds good, thanks.” You said and he nodded, going to step away before pausing and turning back to you. You watched curiously as he leaned forward, feeling heat rush to your cheeks the closer he got. He reached out a hand and slowly wiped away a stray hair that had fallen in front of your eyes, clearing your vision and giving you a pristine look at the man.
He had been one of the boys from your hometown, his family always seemingly on the outside. They had had money, something that most of your town envied, and Yuki had always seemed to get what he wanted, being able to race karts and have his parents attend his races, something that you always envied.
However, when his parents found out that he didn’t want to follow in their footsteps of leading their company and wanted to become a chef, they left him. They cut off all support, financial and emotional, and left him with his grandma. You only knew this because you’d seen him working tirelessly at his grandma’s bakery everyday on your way back from your school, trying to raise enough to eventually put himself through culinary school. 
He’d vanished when you were both around two years out from getting your certificate, briefly being a trending topic among the townsfolk before being promptly forgotten. You’d only remembered him when you’d walked into the building you were in now, your resume in hand and a strong need to work radiating from you.
Somehow he had managed to buy the shop and had been running it since he’d left your hometown. It wasn’t hugely successful, it was in the middle of farmland of course, but it was a popular spot among students, who often rode their bikes past on their way home from school, and for locals to have a nice warm meal. Yuki had made his own way in the world.
You’d never asked him about what happened with his parents, where they went or if he talked to them now, it wasn’t your place. You were curious, of course, about all aspects of your boss. He was a quiet but kind man, one you couldn’t believe hired you, considering your forte was pastry making and his shop was more traditional cuisine. His hiring you wasn’t exactly surprising though once you got to know him, considering his main characteristic was being extremely thoughtful.
He’d often leave out water and treats for stray cats and would give a kid a free meal if they looked like they needed one. You didn’t question it when he asked if you were afraid of the dark, seeing the way you always left the shop with your phone light in one hand and your flashlight keyring turned on in the other, only to find later that week that he’d installed outdoor sensor lights which kept the dark away while you performed your duties outside and eventually walked away from the shop.
The light touch of his pinky against your eyebrow brought you back to the present and you jolted as you snapped back. He quickly drew away from you, retreating and hiding his hand away in his pocket. You both stood there awkwardly for a second before he cleared his throat.
“Wait outside, yeah? I’ll just be a second.” He said and then walked briskly back into the office, closing the door and immediately slumping against it. You couldn’t see him do this, but the creaking door pressing into the doorframe hinted it to you anyway. You quickly turned away before you let yourself speculate why.
Walking through the door to the dining area, your shoes clacked on the tiles as you made the small venture to the front door. The place wasn’t exactly classy, it was more homely, but it had charm. The laminated menu items stuck to the front window (something you’d seen his grandmother hang up, unaware of the way he shot you an exasperated glance at the decor) didn’t stop moonlight from shining onto the small two person laminate-wood tables.
The white and orange leaf-pattern plastic chairs also reflected the moonlight and you thought back to when you’d suggested buying them as a joke only to watch Yuki speculate for a moment before placing an order for them, even though they clashed heavily against the whole aesthetic. 
The small service counter in front of the wall with the service window was missing your coworker, her having gone home hours ago. You walked diverted to the desk and bent over the top of it, quickly checking that everything was locked up and in place, before hopping down and walking to open the front door.
The sound of cicadas and the refreshing smell of clean air greeted you as you walked through the glass door, the tiny tinkling of a bell sounding in your ears. The light flicked on and you surveyed the small road in front of the shop, the dust having settled since the last car drove on it. The gravel was in contrast to the lush greeness that spanned in front of you, the front of the shop having practically the same view as the back, except from here you could see a small town.
That was where you, and to the best of your knowledge, Yuki lived. It was also where a large amount of your customers lived, them mostly dropping in during the day. You don’t know why the shop was built so far away from the town, maybe it used to be exclusively a place where farmers would have their breaks during the day, but it was doing ok so far.
The moon was blocked by the shop when you turned around and you frowned. You’d seen it earlier, it hadn’t moved that fast had it? That was when you noticed something you’d never seen before, a ladder. A ladder was tilted against the side of the shop and, after a quick glance through the windows to see no movement, you figured a quick peek wouldn’t hurt. You scampered over to the ladder and shook it to see if it was steady or not. No movement later and you had climbed the ladder, to stand cautiously on the concrete roof. 
You looked up and, at that exact moment, the sensor light turned off, revealing the stars and the moon to you in all their unfiltered glory. A gasp left your lips, the pure beauty of the scene you were watching captivating you. You sat down, still staring up at the night sky, no thought about capturing the moment with your phone camera in your mind. 
The sensor light turned on and you heard the tinkling of the bell, signifying that Yuki had left the shop, a concerned call of your name leaving his lips after a few seconds. 
“Up here!” You called, moving to look over the side of the building down the ladder. Yuki appeared at the bottom of the ladder and fixed you a concerned look.
“Are you ok? It might be dangerous up there…” He said and you shook your head.
“Yuki.” Your call of his first name made him snap to attention, staring at you, an expression you didn’t recognise covering his face. 
“Come up here and watch with me.” You said softly and he took a second before nodding, you reaching over to hold the top of the ladder steady as he made his way up. He clambered over the edge of the roof and moved to sit beside you after making sure the ladder would stay standing.
He sat down beside you with a huff, a little closer than you had been expecting. He must’ve realised how close he sat as well, a small sound leaving his throat before he slightly shifted away from you. You looked away as your cheeks burned.
You heard his head tilt back to look at the sky and a small approving hum leave his lips that had you turning to look at him. 
“You ever come up here before?” You asked quietly and he shook his head. “I just had the ladder out for repairs.” He mused to the sky and you gently elbowed him, him overdramatically hissing in response. You rolled your eyes in jest.
“You should’ve told me, I would’ve helped you.” Your words made him quiet down and he shook his head. The moment sat for a second before you turned back to the sky. The silence stretched as did the night sky before you both. You wondered if he was, at any point, into the stars as a kid. 
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You quietly mused as you stared at the floating orb. 
“It is quite.” Yuki said, inhaling and turning to look at you as he replied. You pondered that before turning to make eye contact with him.
“Did you ever want to be an astronaut?” He looked a bit put-out by your words before laughing wrly. 
“Uhh I guess. But hasn’t every kid wanted to be an astronaut?” He said and turned back to the sky. You shrugged.
“I didn’t.” He looked shocked by your reply.
“Really? You never wanted to leave everything behind and go into space?” He asked and you just shook your head after a second.
“No, I always knew what I wanted to do. I always wanted to cook.” You said and he sighed, sounding almost mournful.
“Don’t lie.” He quietly murmured, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.
“You always wanted to bake.”
The distinction was important. Your heart clenched at the truth in his words and the unfamiliar look in his eyes. You tried to diffuse the newly made tension with a small joke, hoping you could get back the relaxed feeling you had when staring at the sky.
“I don’t know Yuki, I’ve gotten pretty good at plating salmon.” He scoffed at your poor attempt of a joke and you smiled lightly at the sound. Both of you turned to look back at the sky, the stars continuing to shine. 
After a minute or two, Yuki uttered your name and you drew your eyes away but his remained locked on the sky.
“You don’t have to stay here forever. You could go somewhere else you know?” His words struck you in the chest. He had thought about this before, you could tell by his tone, he wasn’t saying this carelessly. He had planned this. You laughed awkwardly.
“Is this your way of firing me?” You joked but he didn’t respond, continuing to stare at the sky. Your heart dropped. 
“Yuki?” 
“I met a guy in culinary school, his name’s Pierre.” He started and every consecutive word felt like a knife to the heart.
“He runs a bakery in France called La Kika. It’s quite popular, you may have heard of it. He’s willing to take you as a student. You could go there and you could learn how to bake and everything. You’ve always wanted this. You could go there and learn and then open your own bakery.” He said, speaking as though he had it all planned out in his head.
You could only look at his form despairingly. The knowledge that he had arranged for you to go to France, to become someone's student, with no input from you as though he expected you to say yes instantly, deeply hurting you. Did he think you would leave as soon as you could?
“You aren’t meant to stay here, you aren’t meant for this.” He finally said and he refused to move his eyes from the sky, not seeing the hurt in yours. His words had exposed how he truly felt about you. While you thought you had been as close as two people could get without explicitly stating anything, he was just looking for the next person to pawn you off to.
“What, you’d think I’d just say yes?” You asked, your voice husky as you tried not to show your hurt through tears. He turned to you, surprise evident on his features.
“Well… yeah.” He said after a second and you inhaled through your nose, turning your head away from him.
“You think I’d leave the shop because I can’t bake a croissant or two?” Your words left out the ‘leave you’ you so desperately wanted to say. He remained silent and you took a deep breath before standing up, walking across the rooftop and beginning to climb down the ladder. 
He gently murmured your name but you ignored him as the sensor light flashed on. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you turned the flashlight on before setting out along the dark path away from the shop. It was only a 15 minute walk, so you could handle it.
You heard Yuki call your name as you walked, the sound of him climbing down the ladder and fidgeting with his keys in order to lock up the shop echoing over the empty land. Halfway down the road to the main road leading back to the town was how far you made it before the sound of Yuki’s car starting up echoed in your ears. You ignored it as the sound got louder and louder until he pulled up beside you in his car, slowly matching your pace and winding the window down.
“Come on, stop it. We’ll talk about it on the drive back.” He said, almost if he was placating a child. That fact caused you to walk faster, Yuki having to press down further on the gas pedal to match your stride. 
“No.” You replied deliberately childishly and he sighed, annoyed. 
“Don’t be an idiot, you’re going to get hurt walking down the road.” You just ignored him and he groaned before rolling his window up and stopping his car. It almost hurt you how easily he gave up before his car started again and he drove into line behind you as you turned onto the highway to walk back to the town. 
It was a large road and the lack of streetlights started to make his car look like a more inviting environment between the dark and his avoidance of the bigger issue. You walked along the highway for a few seconds before a click sounded and his car lights turned on. Turning back to glare at him, you blinded yourself again.
This time you didn’t let yourself lick your wounds, you just turned around and kept walking. You were eventually able to turn your phone off, relying on his car. You half-expected him to suddenly turn off the lights, no matter how out of character it would be, as revenge for making him do this, but the lights never turned off. 
He drove behind you slowly the whole 15 minute walk down the highway, guiding your path as you followed the road. You were secretly thankful, as you’d walked down the road in the night before and it was not something that you ever wanted to do voluntarily. The cars speeding by always frightened you and the ominous noises coming from the fields on either side of the road also unsettled you.
The town eventually came into view, the lights from bus stops and convenience stores beacons as to where the village started. You arrived at one of the bus stops and stepped under the cover, watching his car come to a stop. He made eye contact with you through the window and gestured your hand in a wave, as though telling him to leave. 
He rolled his eyes before unbuckling his seat belt and opening his car door, getting out. He trudged over to you and opened the car door on your side before gesturing to it as if telling you to get in. You only stone-faced him so he sighed and opened his mouth.
“Please, at least let me drive you back to your house so I don’t have to follow you through the town like that. It’s the least you could do at 1:30 in the morning.” He said exhaustedly and his tone made your resolve waver. His eyes seemed tired and, as much as you were angry at him, you still felt bad. So, you got in the car.
You buckled in as he walked around the front of the car, his figure being lit up by the lights. The many years he’d spent perfecting his craft and lugging around sacks of flour and rice was reflected perfectly in his build and he was built well. His arms flexed as he buckled himself in, your wandering eye catching the way he tapped his fingers against his thigh as he pulled back onto the road. 
It was hardly the time to be thinking such things, after he’d tried to make you go to France and you’d pulled a temper tantrum. You were still mad, but even you could acknowledge that what you did was ridiculous. God, how were you going to go to work tomorrow?
Maybe, you thought regretfully, that was his plan. Get you to try and avoid him so that you’d leave on your own. His voice interrupted your thoughts.
“I meant what I said, you know.” And you groaned, feeling annoyance spread across you. You bumped your head against the window of his car, staring up into the sky and at the moon in blatant refusal to look at him.
“Let me finish, I’ve had plenty of time to think over what I’d like to say.” He finally said his tone sharper than you’ve ever heard it, the dig at your actions being well deserved.
“What I meant to say was that you have a lot of talent.” You took your head off the window to look at him as he stared straight ahead and continued speaking.
“Cooking is not your passion, baking is. You would enjoy being able to bake more than what you’re doing right now.” He said and you opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off.
“I know you’ll refuse that, but I promise you, when you find that one thing you’re passionate about, you should always pursue it. Never give up on it. I’ve got an opportunity for you to do better things, go better places, meet better people.” You could only stare at him, seeing him become more worked up as he continued speaking. You don’t think you’d ever seen him say something this meaningful or something this related to the both of you.
“I want that for you. I knew that when I hired you, you’d eventually move on to something else. I didn’t expect for other things to develop but I don’t want you to feel as though you should stay here with me because of what I feel for you.” Shock flooded through your body at his words, feelings that have always been there but you never thought you could act on coming to the forefront of your body. You watched as he clenched the steering wheel, the light from streetlights glaring onto his pale skin as he continued.
“I’ve accepted it, you’re not meant to stay with me. You’re meant for better things. So if I can’t be those better things, I’d like to at least give you the opportunity to find them.” Yuki could only take shaky breaths after his speech, not daring to look at you. It was silent for a few seconds before he heard you quietly speak.
“Pull over.” He felt his heart sink, tears forming in his eyes that he tried to field away at the rejection. He knew it was coming. He slowly turned his indicator on and pulled over on the side of the road. The sound of your seatbelt becoming undone and your door opening and closing filled his ears, causing him to drop his head.
He may have just lost you completely, convinced you to follow your dreams at the cost his. It was a fever dream anyway, he’d known since childhood there was no chance of you feeling anything back for him.
The first time he’d seen you stand precariously on a chair to trial all of his grandma’s sweets was the day he became infatuated with you. He was sitting on the couch, squished between his mother and his grandma, as he watched you slowly walk to the chair and taste the pastries, your reaction to each one making him want to be able to bake his own.
Everyday he’d watch you walk past his grandma’s bakery, hoping that you didn’t think of him differently since his parents had left him and he dropped out of school. Their disownment of him had left such a large hole in his sense of self, his confidence and trust completely shattered. He couldn’t walk anywhere through the town without people looking at him with sad eyes or muttering pitifully about ‘that poor boy!’. He’d left because he couldn’t stand being an outsider any longer, briefly mourning the unrequited love he’d felt for you that was overshadowed by his loss. 
And then, when you’d walked into his barely new shop, resume poised and you almost itching to get your hands on any form of food creation, how could he say no? You were a good person and a good chef, the extended periods of time he was forced to spend with you made his feelings come back at full force.
But he knew that it wasn’t the best for you. You would always be wanting something more, something that he couldn’t give you in a run-down shop that was falling apart at the seams. Pierre was more than happy to give you a small course and set you up with employment, all it took was one stellar review from Yuki and you’d pretty much had the job.
He was glad that, even if he felt as though his heart was ripped from his chest, you were able to finally fulfill your childhood passion.
And then his car door opened.
He barely had time to turn to you before you’d grabbed his collar and drawn him into a kiss. His body melted, the tears in his eyes disappearing as he took in how soft your lips felt. He recovered from his shock quickly and unbuckled his seat belt, letting his hands then run to the back of your neck.
He pulled away and couldn’t say anything before you were staring at him, as though he was the moon himself, with stars from the sky sparkling in your eyes and you spoke.
“What do you say we open a pastry menu?”
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she should be edited, but we'll see. anyways this may be my favourite thing i've written idk. through the years may beat it out *shrug* also i got a banger lewis idea while writing this so watch out for that.
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Preview for Intertwined - Chapter 16
Imogen’s head is still in Laudna’s lap.
Still, asleep now, brow unfurrowed - Laudna wasn’t prepared for it.
The birds that would usually rouse her continue their morning chorus, Imogen’s rest undisturbed by their melodic chatter
sometimes less melodious, more obnoxious squawks
Laudna scowls at the offender.
She daren’t move – thought she would find that easier, the gargoyle she can be
Perhaps she’s too inexperienced there - never had a home long enough to shield from the erosion of water
Raindrops in Imogen's eyelashes, Laudna dancing in the middle of the muddying path as her skirts fan around her, Imogen stepping forward with a bow and a presentation of her extended hand-
Her skirts wrinkle under Imogen as if they could be soft enough to be her pillow, yards of moth-eaten linen and fraying lace. The loose lilac curls that comprise Imogen's hair fall rather pleasingly over the sun-bleached black background-
She almost allows herself that - until she rationalises that it is just about the contrast - the backdrop of harsh angles of dark fabric cut by shadow-bone-landscape, the dismal soot mountains only emphasizing the beautiful oddity that is hair naturally coloured like wildflowers in a land surely infertile, inhospitable
freckles and dimples and peach fuzz
hands marked by lightning
odd and wondrous, definitely.
(with Imogen she serves to juxtapose, and she is ok with that.)
The daylight reaches to touch them through the canopy
If the golden hour is in the evening, then the morning must be bronze.
Imogen’s skin looks so soft
(Laudna knows it is).
“Y’don’t have to make it weird, you can touch it.”
That is what she said; dream-Imogen resting casually against the side of her family’s cart
Weird
Laudna’s not obliged, no - but she does like it.
Weird. Odd.
She was that before all of this
some-thing further than it now.
some    thing
some
thing
s
o
m
e
t
h
i
n
g
(the birds sing)
Imogen accepts weird, surely - sees herself as it too, maybe…
A pair of gloves. A set of ear cuffs.
Laudna isn’t oblivious (she’s too observational - though admittedly easily distracted).
daydreamer
(Imogen's freckles are at their most dense on the tip of her nose, the swell of her cheeks, and on her chin.)
If this were one of the books she read-
If the dream-
Well.
For a start; she wouldn’t be undead.
butcher’s cart a bouquet of limbs
strings on a marionette
Imogen's knee between her legs
awfully forward - must be taut - the strings that were pulled. Convincing - how Laudna’s own body was numb to herself exercising The Touch. Familiar - how Imogen’s insides were abyssal black.
A pair of gloves. A set of ear cuffs.
In that space they both bleed the same.
If The Dream were a book she would have kissed her. Maybe. Maybe Imogen would have asked.
But it isn’t.
It isn’t a book
(the birds sing)
Out of it.
Imogen’s head is in her lap.
They are out of it. Here.
(maybe Imogen is in it?)
(Hello? Would you like the room one-floor up on the west or adjoining the kitchens on the ground?)
Out of The Dream her laugh bubbled under her hands like the cauldron brought to boil
Like Laudna could be a flame
And her every little fair hair stood on end; frightened cat sheared to wear skin like its kill, a plucked pheasant hanging by nail from the rafters- the low rafters in the old dwarven woman’s house, abdominal muscles spasm under fingertip Imogen cursing under her breath at repaired crockery and maybe Laudna’s hands and the downpour that finally came after months of waiting the roof was fixed they danced in the mud and they stayed there so long Laudna could write about it could illustrate it too on all of the leaf mulch dried on racks and pressed into parchment and Laudna could ask her to stay there forever with her, despite time and how it moves-
But this isn’t a book.
Not a novel, not a dream.
She isn’t even a gargoyle
Redirecting the waters
Imogen had stretched the tarpaulin over their heads
Laudna moves with her, scene hanging - her backdrop, her shadow.
(the birds sing)
She is ok with that (so long as they stay together)
(you can read the previous chapters here)
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vizkopa · 1 month
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Celestial (FallenAngel!Doflamingo x Reader) CHAPTER 12
Chapter 12: The Flamingo and the Hawk
~
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You woke one early morning toward the end of summer from a dream about… wings? You thought it was wings at least. The details were already fuzzy and only became more so as you roused to full consciousness.
You felt the figure beside you begin to stir and you turned over. For the smallest fraction of a second, you were confused by the messy black hair against the white pillow. You weren’t sure who you’d been expecting. Maybe the dream had just left you disorientated.
“Good morning,” said the low, husky voice, a tattooed hand sliding over the curve of your hip.
“Morning,” you yawned back. “I had such a weird dream.”
“What about?” Law asked, rolling to fully face you. He looked like sin with the dark ink of his tattoos snaking over his arms and chest, down to where the sheets lay twisted over his lap.
“I… don’t remember… It just left me with a weird feeling, you know?”
Law hummed, his eyes already falling closed again.
You very much would have liked to join him in sleep again, but you couldn’t shake the strange dream. The more you tried to remember the details, the more they seemed to dance just out of reach, and after a few long moments staring at the patterns of sunlight playing across the ceiling, you decided to get up.
You dressed as quickly and quietly as you could, then made your way downstairs. The dream gnawed at the edges of your mind and you thought maybe a trip into town to pick up coffee and breakfast would be a welcome distraction.
You scribbled a short note for Law in case he woke before you returned and caught up your keys from the hall table. You checked yourself in the mirror by the door, taming the unruly mess of hair as best you could with one hand, clicking your tongue in mild annoyance at the rather obvious hickey Law had left below your ear the night before. Thank God it was the holidays and you didn’t have to face Nami’s judgmental stares.
It was then you became aware of a presence. As you laid your hand on the door handle, you had the distinct impression that someone was waiting just beyond it, as if they had just hesitated in the process of raising their hand to knock. You held your breath for a few long seconds, waiting. The presence remained, but they made no move. Why didn’t they knock? Under your breath, you counted to three, then flung the door wide.
The threshold was empty. The presence you’d felt was gone. You stuck your head out the door and looked around, but the yard was empty, not even a rustle of wind to disturb the morning heat. You ducked back inside and it was then you saw it. On the doormat, catching your eye with its vibrant colour in the bright light of the summer morning, was a single, pink feather.
You bent to pick it up and you felt that presence again, a prickling on the back of your neck, but by the time you straightened again, it was gone. Puzzled, you examined the tiny feather. Artificially dyed—it had to be. There weren’t any native birds in the area with that colour. Maybe you’d had a particularly eccentric mail carrier that morning. But no, it was Sunday, and there was no letter waiting for you on your threshold.
A breeze picked up, warm and smelling of wildflowers, and you let it carry the feather away, putting it from your mind as you shut and locked the door tightly behind you.
* * * * *
“What do you want to be for the staff Halloween party?”
Law crinkled his nose, setting down his third cup of coffee of the morning on the kitchen counter. “You really want to go to that?”
“Of course! We need matching costumes too.”
He smirked. “I see. You want to make a statement.”
You blushed. “I just think it’s time we maybe make a public appearance as, you know, a couple, I guess,” you muttered.
Law laughed and tugged you into his arms. “You just want to stop that new economics teacher from flirting with me, don’t you, [Name]-ya?”
“I would be lying if I said it wasn’t at least part of the reason.”
For some unknown reason you could not fathom, you had been reluctant to give what you and Law had a label. It had been nice during the summer when there had been no pressure or judgmental stares, but now school had resumed, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the faculty would have to know. You dreaded the HR meeting. Nami had already caused a scene when you had told her and it had been a feat in itself to keep her from gossiping all over the school. At least Robin could be trusted to keep a secret. Oh, the lives librarians could destroy if they ever had the inclination…
“So, any costume ideas?”
“Hmm, how about I be a doctor and you can be my sexy nurse?” Law smirked, grabbing playfully at your butt.
As you swatted his hand away, you felt that familiar prickling at the back of your neck once again. You ignored it.
“I think Nami has already claimed sexy nurse,” you laughed.
“Then I got nothing. How about you surprise me?”
As so it was that an angel and a devil arrived hand in hand to the party. Law had seemed overly amused when you handed him his horns and devil tail earlier than night for reasons you could not ascertain. He had at least shown profuse appreciation for the—frankly— sacrilegious length of your dress though, which had almost made you late.
Your arrival, as expected, invited a barrage of questions. Law muttered in your ear something about going to fetch drinks, and you looked on helplessly as he left you to fend for yourself.
Asshole.
You supposed it could have been worse. At least there was a chance your colleagues were drunk enough already that they wouldn’t even remember come morning. Though it wouldn’t save you from the dreaded HR meeting. Thankfully, Nami and Robin came to rescue you.
“Where’s Law?” Nami asked when she had finally dragged you away from the throng of nosy faculty.
“Getting us drinks. Nice costumes.”
Nami, as always, was the envy of everyone in the room in a nurse costume even more scandalously short than yours. And Robin was ravishing, as always, in a Cleopatra costume that you had no doubt was historically accurate down to the last minute detail.
It was then that the feeling of being watched came over you once again, but this time when you looked up, there was someone watching you. A man stood at the opposite end of the room, an untouched drink in his hand.
“Who’s that?” You nudged Nami and jerked your head in the direction of the man.
She frowned. “No clue. Maybe he’s a plus one?”
She was probably right. He was in costume at least, looking like some kind of musketeer in a knee-length coat and feathered hat. You ignored him and tried to enjoy the party even as the back of your neck prickled.
It was half an hour before you realised you were still without your date. Where had Law gotten to? Just as you turned to go in search of him, you were met with a firm chest. You looked up into the face of the man who had been watching you earlier.
“May I have this dance?” His voice was accented but you couldn’t place it.
You had barely opened your mouth to answer before he was sweeping you away into the crowd of dancing couples.
“Do I know you?”
The man’s eyes were an unusual golden yellow, like a hawk’s. You found you couldn’t look away.
“No. But we share a mutual acquaintance.”
You only blinked at him. His grip on your hand tightened and you winced, a thrill of fear suddenly running through you. He leaned closer, the mesmerising gold of his eyes glittering with a menacing light.
“Tell me where Dophiel is and I won’t kill you in front of your colleagues.”
Your blood turned to ice in your veins. You tried to jerk your hand back but his hold was like iron.
“You’re insane. Let me go.” You glanced around helplessly but none of the other dancers seemed to notice your increasing panic. You opened your mouth to call for Law but the strange man tugged you hard against his chest, squeezing the air from your lungs until your head spun.
“Scream and you’ll be dead before you can draw breath again,” he hissed in your ear. “Now tell me, foul witch, where you are harbouring your Fallen lover.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you gasped. “I don’t know anyone called Dophiel. Please, just let me go!”
He drew back slightly, his hand still clamped tight at your waist as he gazed into your eyes. It felt as if he was looking right through you.
“Interesting,” he said. “A strong ward indeed.”
You almost fell over as he let go of your waist but were kept upright by the iron strong grip on your wrist.
“Let’s see if we can’t tempt the traitor from hiding then, hm?”
You clawed at his fingers as he dragged you along, eyes raking the room desperately for someone—anyone—that could help you. Where was Law? Where was… The name died on your lips before you’d even uttered it. Who? Who else was there? Why was it your first instinct to call out a name you couldn’t even remember?
The man tugged you roughly up four flights of stairs until he reached the locked door to the roof. With as much ease as twisting off a bottle cap, the lock snapped under his hand and then the cool October night air was buffeting your face.
He shoved you before him onto the roof. The wind whipped at your bare legs, the feathers of your dress tickling your thighs as they erupted in goosebumps. The door slammed behind him, cutting off the faint sounds of the party floors below.
You stared at each other across the rooftop. There was no way out for you. He was blocking the only exit.
“Who the fuck are you? Did you do something to Law?”
He prowled towards you. “You mean your demon boyfriend? I made sure he won’t interrupt us.”
A new wave of fear coursed through you. If Law was hurt…
“As for who I am… I am a soldier and I am only obeying orders.” He grasped you by the neck, squeezing harshly, and began dragging you across the rooftop. Your feet scrabbled at the concrete, fingers tearing uselessly at his hands. He stopped just before the edge, holding you at arm’s length above the long drop to the black tarmac below. Your heart was a jackhammer in your chest, your feet reaching desperately for even an inch of purchase on the parapet.
You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “Why?” you sobbed. The cold wind whipped at your bare legs.
Golden eyes fixed yours in a cold glare. “Because you are the only thing he cannot bear to lose.”
And with that, he let go. You seemed to hang there in the air for a fraction of a second as you clawed in vain for purchase on something, anything, then the air began to rush around your ears and a scream was ripped from your throat as you plummeted toward the ground far below.
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