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jamespotterismydaddy · 10 months

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In the Wine Cellar

aegon x reader smut

TW: smut, dubcon, incest, pussy slapping, overstimulation, little bit of degrading

word count: 1,845 words

You’re woken up in the dead of night by someone pounding on your bedroom door and you rub your tired eyes as you sit up in your bed. Who would possibly be calling on you this late?

“Who’s there?” You call out nervously, surely your guard wouldn’t have let anyone dangerous get to the door of your chambers.

“Sister…” Aegon’s voice is whiny and he’s clearly tipsy. All of your hesitance fades away but the annoyance sets in. You step out of bed, cringing at the feeling of the cold stone floor against your bare feet as you pad over to the door, opening it to reveal your smirking brother.

“I was sleeping, Aegon.” There’s an impish grin on his face as he takes in the sight of you. Your nightgown is less modest than some ladies would don and you can tell your dear brother quite appreciates it by the intense look in his eyes.

“What kind of proper lady goes to bed in such an immodest state? I am absolutely appalled. I should inform mother.” He leans against your doorframe as he speaks, a mocking look of shock on his face.

“What do you want?” You ask him with a roll of your eyes. He delights in how irritated you seem to be with him.

“Is there something wrong with me wanting to check in on my little sister?” He eyes you seductively, a hand coming up to twirl your hair around his finger.

“Mayhaps you should check in on your wife instead?” You flick his hand off.

“But you are the one who needs true tending to. A sweet rose like you needs to be watered so you may… bloom.” He sucks on his lower lip as his eyes fall to your breasts. You cross your arms to cover them from his hungry gaze.

“By water do you mean wine, brother?” You glare at him.

“Hm… that is a tantalizing thought…” His mouth twitches up slightly as he seems to be in deep thought. “... but I was thinking of my own personal version of hydration. A sweet nectar that can be applied to those soft lips of yours.”

“Leave now. I want to go to sleep.” You place a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly.

“I know the perfect way to help you back to sleep, little rose. It’ll tire you out for sure.” The playful smirk never leaves his face as he gets closer. You can feel the heat of his breath on your face.

“There's no way in the Seven Hells that I am letting you into my room right now.”

“Even if I promised to be extra gentle?” He places a hand on your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“No.” You put both hands on his chest and push him out but he grabs you by the waist and makes you leave the room with him.

“If I can’t come in then i’ll take you someplace else.” He says, taking you by the hand and dragging you along.

“Aegon, I don’t have shoes on!” He ignores your protests as he leads you through the castle. “Where are we even going?”

“My favourite place in the Red Keep.” He grins impishly as he takes you all the way down to… the wine cellar.

“Seriously? Mother will have a fit if she finds us here in the middle of the night.”

“Oh gods, when did you get so boring? Have a little fun for once.” He reaches up to grab two bottles of Arbour Red and hands one to you.

“You know that I hardly have a taste for wine.” You don’t take the bottle.

“C’mon just have a sip for your big brother.” He uncorks the first bottle and gives you his puppy dog eyes with a pout on his lips. “Just one little sip.” He brings the bottle up to your lips and you easily give in, parting your lips to let the crimson wine slip through. You don’t swallow though, not really liking the bitter taste on your tongue. “Now, swallow for me.” The look in his eyes tells you to obey so you swallow the wine, trying not to cringe. “There’s my good girl.” You try to move away but his grip on your hip keeps you pulled flush against him. He keeps pouring the wine down your throat, the bottle held to your lips like he’s feeding a babe. The wine dribbles down your chin and onto your chest as you finally push him off.

“You said a sip!” You wipe the wine off your chest as he brings a hand to your mouth, wiping the drink off your lip with his fingers before bringing them to his own mouth and sucking it off. He never breaks eye contact as he does.

“You can’t handle the taste, sweet rose?’ He takes a swig from the bottle before putting it down. “I can think of another kind of nectar that would help you bloom nicely.” His eyes darken as he presses himself against you. You step back but he just keeps stalking you until you’re cornered against the wall.

“Don’t be stupid.” You duck under his arm and make for the door but he catches you by the arm and he sits by the wine bottles, pulling you into his lap with him.

“Ugh.” You grunt as you squirm a little in his lap but you eventually stop, not truly wanting to leave his hold.

“Good girl. No need to put on a show for big brother. I know what you want.” He lifts the bottle to your lips and makes you drink more before bringing it to his lips and finishing it off. Your head is starting to feel a little cloudy at this point. He turns you a little so he can see your face. His fingertips brush lightly over your lips before they begin to trail down your throat to the swell of your chest. Your hand comes up to hold his, stopping the movement.

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I will.” He whispers these words in your ear as his hand slips under the top of your nightgown to grope your breasts. You can feel the heat of his breath on your neck before he begins to kiss you there; you feel dizzy. Your hands go up to push him away but you end up gripping his tunic instead. He licks up your neck a little and leaves a mark.

“A-Ah…” You moan a little from the combined sensations of him squeezing your breast and sucking on your neck.

“I knew you’d like it, little whore.” His other hand reaches up to grip your hair. “You want me to touch you…” He nips at your collarbone. “... taste you.” The hand that was on your chest reaches up to the strap of your nightgown. He brings his lips to yours in a messy kiss to distract you from him slipping the strap off your shoulder. The hand that was in your hair does the same thing to the other side. You gasp, feeling the cool air on your bare skin as the nightgown falls to your hips. You break the kiss.

“Aegon!” You chastise him as you bring your hands up to cover your naked breasts.

“It’s fine. Be a good girl and move your arms.”

“You’ll ruin me for my future husband.” You glare at him through your drunken haze.

“You’ll never have a husband that’ll make you feel the way that I do right now.” He grabs your wrists and leans in to whisper in your ear. “Let me give you a night to remember.” He nips at your ear. “Let me be your first.” You think for a moment before lifting your hands to his tunic… you begin to unbutton it. He grins. “My naughty little rose.” He undoes his trousers and you pull his tunic off.

“I hate you.” Your words are a little slurred.

“You love me.” He takes your lips with his for another sloppy kiss. He forces his tongue into your mouth before laying you back against the cold cellar floor. He pins his hands above your head so he can finally get a good look at your breasts. “Such perfect fucking tits.” You blush at the lewdness of it all as his mouth moves to your chest. He circles your nipple with his tongue and leaves little love bites all over before he switches to sucking on the other.

“Mmm…” You moan and he lifts his head up to give you another kiss.

“Let’s get the rest of this off, shall we?” He tugs your nightgown off the rest of the way, taking your smallclothes with it. “Look at this tight little cunt.” He gives you a light smack, right on the pearl, and you squeal. “Sorry.” He says, not really meaning it.

He removes his cock from his trousers and your eyes widen at the sight.

“It’s… large.” You bite your lip.

“You’ll love it.”he smirks as he spreads your legs open a bit more and begins to rub his length along your slit, coating it in your arousal. “You’re so fucking wet that it’ll just slip right it.” You blush once more and he laughs before kissing you again, sheathing himself inside your cunny. He gives you a little chance to adjust before beginning to slide himself in and out.

“Oh gods.” You whimper as he hits that sweet spot.

“I told you you’d love it.” He begins to quicken his pace and groans a bit as you squeeze around him. “You’re so tight.” He grunts. “I wanna keep this tiny cunny all to myself.” His thrusts get rougher as he gets lost in the pleasure.

“H-Harder.” You whine and he grins before beginning to piston in and out of you, his hips slapping against yours at a brutal pace. “Fuck.” You moan as his fingers come down to rub your pearl.

“I want to feel you cum around me, little sister. Cum around my cock as I ruin you for every other man.” His cock continues to slam into you as you reach your peak, the waves of pleasure washing over you. He fucks you through your high and then some as he begins to overstimulate you.

“No… no more.” You beg for mercy as his ruthless pace continues.

“Don’t be selfish.” He scolds as he chases his high. You whine as he keeps fucking into you, the pleasure being too much to handle after your peak. He lets you suffer a bit before he finally gets close. You sigh in relief as he finally pulls out and releases his spend onto your stomach. You both just catch your breath for a moment before he lays on his back next to you and pulls you into his side. “Good job.” He mumbles as you rest your head on his chest.

The sight of the two of you sure gives some serving boy a fright the next morning.

taglist (comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies

#aegon targaryen #aegon smut #aegon targaryen smut #aegon x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd smut

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probablygoblins · 2 years

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mayhaps.... 23 or 24.... with mr dingus brando and me afab reader (ik im on anon but you know who this is LOLLL) no pressure!!

Always ready to show love to Mr. Dinkus Binklo the Dino Man.

That's going to be indecipherable to anyone else sldfjsldkf

Diego x afab!Reader - "You can do all sorts of things to me."

DISCLAIMER i know nothing of dingus brando but i am trying my best

He's just so goofy.

That's the first word that always comes to your head. He's so goofy, with his haughty attitude, and his big riding breeches, and his little tricks. Despite the image he tries to portray, Diego Brando is a silly little man, and you love him for that. And he loves you too, even as he huffs and blushes when you call him silly.

His reaction is a little more intense, you discover, when you mention it in the bedroom.

You've suddenly found yourself flat on your back on your shared bed. Diego hovers over you, staring at you with intense blue eyes. Strands of silky blond hair fall over his face, framing his sharp cheekbones. The focus in his expression is impressive.

But still, you can't help but crack up.

Diego groans. "Why are you laughing? Stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry! You're just so cute."

"I'm not cute," he pouts.

"Not buying that for one second. You're the cutest man I've ever met."

"And serious. Suave. Talented. Important."

"All of those things, dear. But you're also adorable."

"Ugh... darling... darling... you're killing my boner right now."

You almost laugh again. Until you process what he actually said.

"What? Oh... oh."

"I'm trying to seduce you, damn it!"

"Oh, well... I mean, call me seduced."

"That's not how it works."

"It did, though."

He sits back on his knees, covering his face in his hands. "Urgh, how am I supposed to seduce you when you're so... you..."

You sigh. Sitting up, you brush the hair from his forehead and kiss it.

"I've already been seduced. You don't need to do it again."

"But I want to do it again," he grumbles.

"I said it worked! You did it! You've seduced me."

You fall back into what you hope is a provocative pose.

"You can do all sorts of things to me."

The gears turn in his head. Diego stares at you with a befuddled expression. He doesn't want to give in so easily... but you can tell he's pent up and needy. In the end, it's the needy that wins.

"All sorts of things, hm?"

Diego scoots a little closer, bracketing your thighs with his own. You smile.

"All sorts of things."

His eyes narrow, and he grasps your thighs for dear life. With quick, sharp movements, he tugs down your pants and underwear. He discards your clothing with a pompous flourish, as if it’s offended him somehow. Diego takes off one glove with his teeth, peeling the tight leather from his hands and spitting it onto the floor with your pants.

He huffs. “Cute... I’ll show you how ‘cute’ I can be.”

Without another word, Diego buries his face between your legs. He licks a stripe all the way to your clit, giving it a harsh suck. You tangle your fingers in his hair with a sigh. Not quite what you were expecting from ‘all sorts of things’. But you weren’t about to question it. Not when he was worshipping your pussy so well.

Diego’s sharp tongue wasn’t just good for spouting insults. He moved with a finesse and pressure you’d only dreamed of before. He hooked his hands under you hips to press himself deeper into your cunt, fucking you with long, glorious tongue. Diego moaned. You lifted your head up to find him rutting into the mattress. Oh, he was needy needy. It only served to turn you on even more, bucking your hips into the blond’s hungry mouth.

“Mmmph... cute... you’re the one who’s cute,” he slurs against your heat. Drunk on the taste of you, Diego slips two fingers inside your dripping pussy. “You’re so cute when you need me!”

Oh, how you need him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them with expert precision to make you arch your back and cry out.

“Holy shit, Diego,” you gasp between breathy moans. “Oh, fuck.”

“God, you’re gorgeous... I want you to cum on my fingers, darling. Can you do that for me?”

You don’t exactly have much of a choice. You’re already so close. Like you’re toeing the edge of a precipice, ready to fall. And when he laves the flat of his tongue over your clit, fingers stroking a spot that makes you see stars, you come crashing down. Your orgasm washes over you in waves, hard enough to make your legs spasm. He fucks you through it, drawing it out as long as he can, before he surges upward to capture your lips in his.

The two of you lay together for a breathless moment as the fog clears from your mind. Then suddenly, Diego spasms. He grunts, burying his wet face in your neck.

“Deeg, did you just...?”

“N-no! Urgh, no I didn’t! I’m not that desperate!”

A wet patch slowly growing over the front of his pants says otherwise. He got so worked up eating you out that he came in his pants. You sigh, pulling him to lay on your chest.

“Heh... cutie.”

#dangle bangle my beloved #diego brando #n s f t #diego brando x reader #diego x reader #steel ball run #jjba fanfic #jjba #fanfic #jojo fanfic #sbr

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turkfra · 2 months

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im sending you a million hugs and kisses (open or closed mouth dealer’s choice). and orange juice (pulp or no pulp ur choice) OR EVEN APPLE JUICE, IF YOU’RE A TASTE GODDESS OUTSIDE OF SEXUAL TASTES. and a fancy cup of tea. and freedom for the foreseeable future. I am not a doctor BUT. trust that i AM a prophet and quite literally just had a vision thattttt…. everything will be alright cus im coming to find you*🤞🤞🤞and i missed you and im SOOO GLAD UR BACK HOME 😿 and and and I LOVE YOU I HOPE YOUR TESTS GO WELL AND IM ROOTING FOR YOU ❤️🧡🤍🩷💜 🫂 ❤️🧡🤍🩷💜

i hope cleorrrr—and SIGH hubby too… ❤️—gets the biggest hugs ever, and she licks your face and gives you those crazy ass humanlike cat hugs you see on twitter MWAH MWAH

*idk if u like the killers, but read this in the cadence/with the vibe of “everything will be alright” by them

THANK U <3 this is so sweet im sobbing ily too... puppy eyes emoji x2... if i put my trust in anyone on this gosh darned webbed site its u. i have faith in ur sapphic healing powerrs dr maggie (prayer hands emoji) and I MISSED YOU SM i have never been in a hospital for that long... and without frussy?? torturous.

anyway the consensus is that it's probably both migraines and the intracranial pressure conspiring together to inflict maximum suffering. i got a few prescriptions and once my spine gets tapped like a maple tree im gonna feel much better <3 im just frustrated bc i dont know when exactly im getting that procedure done so idk what to tell my work?? like they said they would call to schedule so im just waiting for that. hopefully i'll know by the end of the day.

i missed cleurrrr so much... sobbing emoji... i heard she was being a MAJOR STINKER while i was gone and now shes being very sweet and sooky <3 zana refuses to come near me... bitch ass... as for my husband he's the same... he's a moid after all but it was weird being away from him tho </3

anyway i'll take uhhhh sopping wet open mouth kisses (gay) and orange juice WITH PULP bc im a sick freak who likes bits of slimy chewy stuff suspended in liquid. boba. chia seeds. secretly im hungry for tadpole. and mayhaps i shallst brew a cheeky pot of T2's finest french earl grey... ohohoho... a delight for the senses .... a positively brilliant suggestion milady....

(and yeah the killers are p alright they're my favorite mormons definitely... 'all these things that i've done' is a certified banger + 'when you were young' makes me ugly sob... ukus coded??)

#<333 #i wuv u #my beloved mutual #ask and ye shall receive

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tommyssupercoolblog · 7 months

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HEY GIRLIEPOP!!!!!!!

IT'S ODDLY CHAOTIC AND I WANT A LIL ADVICE IF YOU DON'T MIND

IT'S FINE IF THIS IS PUBLIC (DUH) BC MAYBE SOMEONE ELSE HAS THIS THINGY HAPPENING TOO

How do I know which second sex vibes best? I know they aren't based off of stereotypes but I really fit just about every Omega stereotype in the BOOK (including a nsfw thing or two but I'm pretty sure I need to leave that at the door) except for:

I am hungry

protecc

smoler than me? I will either lord it over you or protecc HARDER!!!

you cannot escape me holding you (unless you ask me not to)

I will bite you (not hard (usually))

relates to the Den thing in Alphas, despite objectively nesting

what do???? fren??????? wassdis?????????

hmmm... all that gives me omega vibes too because to me protec can be omega, but also mayhaps you are like. Nonbinary? Or smthn?? :0 who knows! Only u can answer dat an find the truth,,,, i know @transalpha-coining has a lot of gender terms. Maybe start there?

#i made a textpost #miscefelis #miscecanis #a/b/o lifestyle #misceanimalis #miscelupus #omegaverse #omegaverse lifestyle #miscecanis lifestyle

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poursomesunaonme · 2 years

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hate you, want you

pairing: solf j kimblee x fem!reader

summary: a conjugal visit to an old lover...

a/n: do not perceive me LMAO this piece of... something is part of @cyancherub back from the dead collab!! ty for the wonderful idea darlin, ive been waiting for a push to write for this dummy

wc: 3.8k

cw: nsfw, minors dni, fmab spoilers, hate fucking, kimblee's in handcuffs teehee, fingering, cockwarming, threats of violence, degradation, teasing, voyeurism/exhibitionism mayhaps, rough sex, dacryphilia, squirting, a sprinkle of angst bc who am i without it

you keep your eyes downcast, following the guard down the long corridor. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end under the hungry gazes from behind the peepholes that cut through every cell door. your shoulders hunch and your pace quickens to escape the whistles and cat-calls that echo behind your retreating figure. you can’t help but hope in vain that the familiar walk somehow gets shorter.

you don’t notice how little you pay attention to your surroundings before you nearly run into the guard when he stops at the cell. he knocks twice to get the prisoner’s attention. muffled footsteps approach the door from the other side. a pair of eyes roams over your figure when the sound finally stops.

“one hour,” the guard says. your fingers curl into your palms as you clench your fists. the crescent shaped divots from your fingernails threaten to draw more blood than resolve.

that’s more than enough time for the both of you, and you know it. in truth, the sessions have gotten shorter and shorter recently. it might grant you the opportunity to worm your way out a little earlier. even more undeniable was the increase in strain and discomfort that came with each visit.

in all honesty, you aren’t really sure of why you keep coming back.

the man on the other side of the door doesn’t say anything when the guard opens it up to reveal your frame. the guard takes a step forward to undo the prisoner’s handcuffs, then stops.

he scoffs at the man whose disheveled black hair falls so far down his body that you can see it from underneath your lidded eyes. “don’t think i trust you enough to let you out of those, kimblee.” he turns to you, offering a curt nod. “sorry, miss.”

you shrug, already having experienced guards like this before. you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel more comfortable with the handcuffs on. the man’s hands are cursed, feared by many but especially hated by you. the change in circumstance presents itself as a blessing, seeing as you don’t even trust kimblee anymore, not in the slightest.

the guard steps back over the threshold and shifts to the side so that you can get through. without lifting your eyes to face him, you cross under the doorway.

something in the pressure changes. the atmosphere shifts. every ounce of air in your lungs threatens to leave as you clench your fists once again, attempting to keep your breathing and heartbeat steady. the door locks behind you, echoing in the plain cell. you don’t feel cornered, or even trapped, just numb. kimblee doesn’t make a move towards you.

“miss me?” his cocky voice slithers over you, slippery and smooth like snakeskin.

biting back a bitter laugh, you answer. “you wish, kimblee.”

he lets out a chuckle and takes a heavy seat on the bed. it creaks under his weight, and you try to suppress the sounds of your past visits that echo around your mind like a ghost. without even looking, you know exactly the posture that upholds him, how he can maintain his pride in such a place as this. solf has a presence that would make him look comfortable, even regal, anywhere. a dingy prison cell is no exception. even when it suits him perfectly.

you approach him slowly, finally lifting your gaze to find his blue eyes already trained on you. he pats his lap, legs spreading ever so slightly to let whatever was growing between them breathe. you know the drill. you take off your panties and toss them to the floor, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of undressing you.

you’re not afraid to face him head on when your knees drop to either side of his hips, cunt pinned against his groin. you’re not afraid to watch his eyes wander over your body like it’s still his. if anything, it pisses you off.

“we gonna do this or what?” you cross your arms over your chest. kimblee clicks his teeth as he senses your impatience. his eyes narrow, but they crinkle at the edges with a soft smile. the complexity of his expressions intrigues you, but also sets a pit in your stomach.

“i like how assertive you’ve gotten,” he muses, stroking your cheek. the touch is strangely tender despite the bulky wooden handcuffs that ensnare his wrists. you jerk your head to break the contact. you aren’t here as a lover. you still don’t know why you came.

“things have changed.” you shrug, watching as his fingers ghost down your torso. shivers threaten to shake your body, to raise gooseflesh on your skin, but you suppress those reactions that he loves so dearly.

kimblee doesn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry. his hands reach the bottom of your torso, reaching from within their bounds to languidly massage the muscle of your thighs. you hike up your dress to quicken the process. kimblee, for once, takes the hint.

the lazy pace is probably some new routine that he’s cooked up to torture you, to keep you in the room, with him, for as long as possible. the battle of wits, you well know, is something you can’t win. your thighs clench on either side of his.

kimblee lifts his fingers to his mouth, training his eyes on your emotionless face while he sucks and spits on them to coat them amply in his saliva. your expression doesn’t change. you refuse give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

however, that resolve threatens to crumble when his lubricated fingers slide in between your folds. the spit provides a dense barrier that prevents kimblee from feeling if you had already been wet before he began touching you. you certainly won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that, begrudgingly, you had been.

your teeth grit. kimblee’s fingers curls up perfectly into your cunt. he finds his usual rhythm like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him. you fight against every muscle that aches to squirm on his hand, to get just a little more friction. scissoring, pumping, stretching - nothing changes your expression under kimblee’s hawklike gaze. but he can feel every twitch, every clench. he’s quite the calculating man.

“unusually quiet today, aren’t we?”

you don’t answer. it proves his point.

you turn your nose up at him to focus on the ceiling, not wanting him to know that you fight back a moan every time he twists his wrist, every time the knuckle of his thumb brushes against your clit. but if you know solf j. kimblee, you know that he loves to get a rise out of people. your unresponsiveness is going to drive him over the edge.

you’re too busy counting the stars under your eyelids to notice him preparing to thrust into you. his cock replaces his fingers before you know it, so unfortunately, you can’t bite back the moan that tears from your lips. your chin tucks to your chest, and you catch a glimpse of his triumphant expression.

“there you go.” his mouth twists into a wicked grin. “i knew my little slut was in there somewhere.”

“‘m not yours,” you force out immediately, sinking down on his cock. adjusting to his girth makes holding back the moans that bottle up in your throat a lot harder. your eyes widen, your head lolls back, and you swear that in the clarity, you could count every crack in the stone.

“that tight little pussy of yours says otherwise.” his catlike eyes flicker up to meet yours when your head snaps back into place, and you hold his gaze haughtily. “let’s see how long it takes for that pitiable resolve of yours to break.”

he doesn’t move a muscle. you shift your hips uncomfortably, trying to accommodate his girth that you hadn’t felt in a few weeks. his expression doesn’t change from the sly smile, watching your face contort in discomfort and eventually, exasperation.

you finally pick up on the fact that you’re merely cockwarming him.

fighting back the urge to roll your eyes, you ponder what would be worse for you to pursue, warming him to prove his point or fucking yourself on him like a bitch in heat.

even though you know it’s the latter, you still decide to do it.

the moment you shift your hips an inch, kimblee holds up a hand. you stop, stomach dropping because while he’s silent, you know that twinkle in his eye, the one that speaks of a plan brewing in his demented mind. he doesn’t say anything. his hands meet the hem of your skirt to lift it up over your thighs. they hover over the exposed skin.

a horrifying glow from the bottom of your vision sends shadows slinking across his face, contouring his features. your eyes tear from his to focus on his hands that just barely leave enough space between his palms and your thighs. you don’t need to turn over his hands to know that he’s charging up his symbols. the sparks send your heart spinning out, even though you know that he can’t do too much damage without his cuffed hands joining.

“you wouldn’t…” you mutter in disbelief, attempting to hide the shaking in your voice. he’s never done it before, but those symbols would hurt like a bitch being burned into your skin - being branded by him.

“you wanna test me?”

it’s best to accept whatever he wants to do. solf has never taken out his power on you, but you’ve seen what it does to others. you know the potential that those symbols carry. deep down, you’d like to believe that he wouldn’t ever hurt you, despite your history; but the ways that he’s changed hearken you to be smarter than that. you swallow past the lump in your throat and shake your head.

“good girl. now stay still, or it’ll happen.” he pauses a moment, turning up his chin and reveling in how his threats have broken your haughty spirit down completely. with a wicked smile, he continues. “or, you can beg me to fuck you like the slut you are. and maybe i’ll do it.”

it takes less than two minutes for you to crumble.

“solf… please fuck me.” tears bead in your eyes at how ashamed you feel, how the warmth that blossoms under your cheeks is a result of your embarrassment, but also a sprinkle of anticipation in having your former lover tear through you. as much as you hate to admit it, kimblee could fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

“what did i tell you to say?”

you almost let out a shriek of exasperation. you can practically feel the ears of the other prisoners as they lean towards the sounds that you make during the visits. kimblee knows their habits. it’s probably why he asks you to make the most lewd of sounds.

“do i have to?”

the warmth blooming from his palms answers your question.

“please… please fuck me like the slut i am.” the walk down the hallway is going to be absolutely miserable.

kimblee wastes no time in granting your wishes, as much as he prepared the buildup. your chest collides with the mattress, nearly knocking the wind out of you. the angle at which kimblee bends you in half threatens to break your spine. you feel so exposed. the chilly air seeping in through the cracks in the walls coats your exposed skin in gooseflesh.

you bury your head as deeply as possible in the thin mattress in a vain attempt to prevent the moans that echo from your mouth from reaching his ears. it doesn’t work. they bounce off all the walls, all the way down the hallway, to those deplorable prisoners who are probably getting themselves off to your pretty little sounds.

kimblee’s fingertips dig into the globes of your ass, jerking you onto and tearing you off his cock with breakneck speed. the roughness reminds you of the first few times you had hooked up after you had officially broken up with him. kimblee had just come back from the ishvalan war. you knew that he was fucked up beforehand, and maybe that was what attracted you to him. maybe you could be the one to fix him.

but after he killed thousands of innocent people, you found yourself drawing the line.

nothing boiled up within you more at the time than self-hatred. you couldn’t bear to look at yourself in the mirror when you left to reponsd to his summons in prison. there was something in you that thought that maybe he needed company. as much as it wasn’t your job to be there or to be his creature comfort, you couldn’t say no. it’s wasn’t like you were a spy, bringing him special messages. you didn’t talk about anything important in your life when you went.

hell, you never even kissed.

as unfortunate as it is, something keeps you crawling back.

“so, you want me back?” kimblee’s question reflects your thoughts a little too accurately. you turn your head so that your cheek rests against the mattress. you hate to say it, but seeing kimblee’s vantage point and ensuing power over you sends a flood of arousal down between your legs.

“who said that?” you manage to bite back between breathy gasps. you grit your teeth as he slows down his thrusts, but makes up for the change in speed with how deep he reaches into you. your eyes roll back into your head at the pressure of his tip nestling against your cervix.

“why do you continue to respond to my summons, then?”

you want to cum to avoid the conversation, but the question puts you in such a hard place that your orgasm slips away from you.

you turn back to smush your face in the mattress, hiding from invasive inquiries that make you want to crawl into a hole and die. you know why, but if you say it out loud, then you’d allow it to be true. and you never, ever, want to admit why you still see him.

ever the sadist, kimblee’s fingers tangle into your hair and pull you upright. you cry out at the sensation, at how roughly he turns your head to face him. his eyes sear into yours. he already knows the answer. he just wants to torture it out of you.

“i asked you a question.”

the thrusts hit much deeper now, seeing that he essentially rooted you in place, even pulled you back on his cock from time to time. the orgasm that had seemed so far now touches your fingertips. if you could only reach out, it would be yours. but kimblee’s persistent pulling on your hair kept it withdrawn from you.

“as much as i hate you, solf… i still want you.”

there it is. the truth, out in the open. and the hard truth it is.

because as much as kimblee had committed atrocities and war crimes that you would never be able to forgive him for, you knew that you still had feelings for the man he used to be. the man before all the power came into play. the man before the power made him a monster.

you weren’t sure if he was still there, deep down, but there was something in you that believed it to be true, no matter how much it hurt you.

but the more you visited, the less you saw of the man you once knew. all you saw was a plotting creature, one that was going to escape the cage that it was put in, eventually. and you weren’t sure that you wanted to be around when that happened.

the more you saw solf slipping away, the less you wanted to be there. by the same token, you wanted to stay all the longer. it was a delusional hope that maybe you yourself would have the power to resurrect the kind soul that he used to be. but your reality kept crashing down upon you time and time again.

this wasn’t solf.

this was kimblee, the crimson alchemist. the conqueror of ishaval.

it broke your heart in half.

you hated to love him.

“now that… that’ll keep me going till i get outta here.” kimblee lets go of your hair and you hide your face in the mattress in shame. you know that isn’t him. it’s a stranger in kimblee’s body. fucking him isn’t going to bring him back, but at least the shared anatomy is a creature comfort.

you don’t realize you’re crying until you inhale moisture from the thin sheets. opening up your eyes, you recognize tear stains on the fabric. trying to minimize the sniffles, you let out a few more extra moans as sacrifice.

your ploy doesn’t work in the slightest. kimblee clicks his teeth, leaning down over your frame to peer at the stains under your face.

“oh now, what’s all this for?”

before you can answer, his giant hands clutch your waist and turn you over on your back. you try to cover your face with your hands, evading the crimson alchemist’s intent stare, but your efforts are in vain once he gets focused.

his hands clamp around your wrists and pin them over your head to hold you in place. you wince at the sneer that he wears, the one that tells you you’re so fucking stupid for coming here, that your solf is gone. all those years of accumulating power, of stabbing backs, of taking lives, they’ve all drowned him. this man is not yours, but he’ll certainly claim you like it.

he leans down, which earns the turn of your head to avoid him, but his hands keep you rooted. there’s no escape. his hungry lips kiss and desperate tongue licks the salt away from your dewy skin. you shiver at his hot breath on your cheeks.

“think i like it when you cry,” he muses. he releases your wrists, but only for a moment. he pushes on the back of your knee to open up your hips, and it does much more than he had imagined. kimblee’s hands clasp around your wrists once more, the wood of the block digging uncomfortably into your forearms. the angle sends a fresh wave of tears rolling down your cheeks at how deeply he thrusts into you.

“you’re just a sadist,” you fire back. he laughs, clear and loud. the sound makes you want to spit in his face.

“i think you’re right.”

despite the information being blatantly obvious, you don’t resist him. in fact, you continue to rock in sync with him - eagerly, might you add. before you know it, you remember that time is almost up and you hadn’t gotten the chance to cum yet. it’s on the verge of unraveling, you just know it is.

in your head, you tell him over and over again that you hate him. you hate how intrinsically evil he had become, you hate what he had done, you hate how fucking handsome he is. you hate how well he fucks you. you hate how well he knows your body. you hate how dexterous he is when it comes to coaxing an orgasm out of you.

as if those thoughts were some form of dirty talk, they bring you to the crest of an orgasm. unable to hold back anymore, you scream your thoughts from the rooftops.

“i f-fucking hate you, kimblee!”

you swear that you’ve never had a better orgasm. your walls contract so hard around his cock that the extra stimulation has you squirting over his cock. the juice spills down your ass, soaks up into the mattress, much to kimblee’s delight.

“if this is hating me, then i never want you to love me again,” he laughs, gripping your wrists till his knuckles whiten and thrusting into you like his life depends on it. the kick in your walls tells you of his approaching climax right before he pours himself fully in you, fucking each drop of his essence into your throbbing cunt.

kimblee releases your elbows and pulls out, cum spilling out of you. your legs fall to the mattress while you lay there, panting like a dog. he takes a seat next to you, raking the hair out of his face. everything is silent while you both catch your breath. neither of you know what to say.

after a few more moments, he breaks the silence.

“i like it when you come,” he murmurs. at first, you think he’s referring to your orgasm. it nearly brings a grin to your face. but then you see the misty look in his eyes.

“what’s that?” you push yourself off the mattress and pull your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. you wince, feeling the thin sheets dampen under your ass with sweat and cum.

“i said i like it when you come,” he says, louder, lacking in the usual confidence. for a moment, you think that you can see who he used to be shining through the depths of his hardened skin.

“well in that case, you’ll never see me again,” you grumble. you turn away from him, leaning against the cool stone wall. it sends a shiver down your spine. your words hold a lot of value, but one response to an invitation would render them meaningless. he knows this.

“you’ll come back. you always do. i know you.”

“no you don’t. not anymore.”

the clenching that comes from your aftershocks says otherwise. your bodies haven’t changed and they never will. maybe your brain is just hard wired to love him - or to need to fuck him. the only way to test your resolve is to get another one of his summons.

you’re silent as you dress. kimblee seems too tired to threaten you more. his touch burns into your skin as if he actually branded you with his alchemy symbols. your whole body is damp. your face is wet. something about this visit is irrevocably different.

you don’t bother to look at him one last time before you knock on the door to be let out. you feel kimblee’s watchful eyes burn into your neck, but that doesn’t entice you to spin on your heel and scream at him. maybe that’s all part of your development. maybe this will be the last time.

the guard doesn’t look at you as he opens it. you push past him, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for the long corridor. you drown out the cat-calls of the prisoners claiming to have gotten off to you getting fucked, hoping that the taunting jeers will deter you from coming around the next time. you clench your fists at your sides, swearing that you won’t ever return to the dingy prison.

taggin: @saphhonic (ty for screaming abt this dumb whore w me)

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 2 years

Text

Day 8: Free Day (Softness)

Rena/Aymeric. Follow-up to Soft. NSFW

Once Aymeric reached the door to their bedroom, he let Rena down with a laugh. “By the Fury, I feel twenty years younger right now.” The second the door was opened, Rena dragged Aymeric in, slammed the door, and then locked it. “Darling!”

Already removing her clothes, she smirked. “Better to have the door closed, my handsome knight. Otherwise, my sound charm won’t be as effective.”

“Oh my dearest,” Aymeric sighed, unbuttoning his shirt. “Always thinking of us. And so talented too!”

“Ah, but not nearly as talented as my dear husband with his silver tongue…” Rena sauntered to him, her amethyst eyes staring into his sapphire ones. “And what a marvelous tongue it is, my love.”

“Pray tell, my lovely wife, what would you like my tongue to do precisely? Taste your pretty little cunt? Devour a succulent breast? Kiss your swollen lips? Or mayhap, all of the above?” I will do all this and more. A greedier man one would struggle to find in this moment! I want my wife!

With a twinkle in her eye, Rena lay on their bed with her legs open. “My darling husband must so hungry…have some cunt, Aymeric.”

The look that appeared on Aymeric’s face was a mixture of excitement and adoration. “My wife, I hunger for you.” He slipped off his smalls and crawled to Rena on his hands and knees. I’ll feel this in the morning! But it’s worth it! My wife is worth it! With a maniacal grin, he dove into his lady’s pretty little cunt. Fury take me, how is she still so sweet? I crave her very essence. My wife. My wonderful wife.

“Aymeric, y-you are excited today aren’t you?” Rena breathlessly said while rubbing his ears. “Had me at lunch, on your break, and now…” Her delicate hands moved to his salt and pepper curls. “Kami preserve, I love the gray on your hair, my love. You look even more distinguished…”

Aymeric grunted, far too busy driving his wife wild to comment.

“Ah, ah, my handsome knight…” Rena moaned, feeling herself release.

And here I am---a greedy man who absorbs his lady’s noises all for him. Drinks her sweet nectar. Gobbling her cunt. He sat up and straightened his back. That’s…not good. But I will continue! “Now, my dear, how do you want me?”

Rena pretended to think and then suddenly grabbed his thick waist. “Just like this! I want you all, husband. All of you.”

“Then I humbly request,” he murmured softly, undoing her hair from her usual tight bun. “to see all of you.” The gray in her hair is so lovely. A perfect contrast with the dark blue of her hair and scales. So lovely. My wife is perfect. Aymeric then lined himself with her entrance, taking a breath before rolling his hips. Fucking hells!

“A-Aymeric…my handsome knight…fuck me into the mattress, darling…”

I don’t need to be told twice! Aymeric grunted once more, his hips moving quickly as he thrust in and out of his lady. Oh dear, that’s a tweak in my back. Must. Keep. Going. “Dearest,” he growled. “I don’t know how long I can last…” I can already feel my balls tightening. Damnit man, last a bit longer! Or is it a testament to my beloved wife that she arouses me so?

“Doesn’t matter. Just don’t stop!” Rena cried. She was touching herself and seemed ready to come a second time.

Sweat pouring down his brow and his grunts growing louder by the second, Aymeric thrust as hard as he could. My love! I can…feel her… “Fuck!” He shouted, his seed pouring into her and lining her walls. After a few moments, Aymeric felt himself collapse next to Rena, who played with his curls. “Dearest?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Would you be a darling and have the hot water bottle prepared? I fear I may have tweaked my back again.”

“Aymeric, you know full well I can—” Rena began but was silenced by a long, elegant finger touching her lips.

“I’m aware, but I see it in this way, my love---hot water bottle means us on the couch or in bed together cuddling.” He winked, and she giggled.

“My brilliant husband! The finest man in all the star!” Rena exclaimed loudly, while nuzzling his soft belly (which still she loves by the way! And still fucks! My wife!). “I love you, Aymeric. The life we have…the life we built together…I wouldn’t trade it for anything…”

Aymeric felt tears in his eyes. Fucking hells, I’m such a sap…but I wouldn’t trade our life for anything. Our children. Our home. The nation we both love. And how I adore you, my beloved.

#rena calab #rena de borel #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #wolmeric #middle aged and still frisky af #oops aymeric did a thing #aura april #au'ra april #au'ra xaela #auraapril

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beepen · 3 years

Text

Hello gays and gays only. You may have known me as dicks-out-for-adam :) felt a little nostalgic and wanted to post a little something for the adashi tag. Happy pride and happy summer, here’s two hockey players getting midnight snacks on a road trip.

------------------------------

“Adam….”

Adam stirred in his sleep, nuzzling further into his pillow. His sore muscles protested his awakening and he couldn’t agree with them more. He wanted to continue sleeping….

“Adam.”

“No….”

Let him sleep. He loved sleeping.

“Adam!”

A poke to his shoulder had him scrambling for his dreams to come back, reaching for them and wanting to cover himself in them like a blanket. But they were already too far away and Adam was already too awake.

He sighed, saddened by his loss. “What?”

“Are you up?”

“No.”

“Do you want Mcdonald’s?”

His stomach immediately reacted at the question, growling, and Adam finally opened his eyes to peer over at Takashi kneeling beside his bed.

“Are you serious?” Adam said, voice cracking from sleep and hissing as he stretched his aching limbs.

“Yeah, I’m serious. Do you want some or not?”

Ignoring his question for the moment, Adam reached for his phone. He squinted at the brightness as he read the time. “Takashi. It’s 12 A.M.”

“I know.”

“Did you even sleep?”

Takashi chose not to answer, instead he rose to his feet, his tall frame now towering over Adam’s horizontal form. Adam noticed even in the dark that he was dressed to go out.

“Can you answer my question, please?” Takashi said, his entire being now starting to radiate impatience.

Adam sighed again and rubbed his eyes, giving his hunger levels a once over. He didn’t really have much time to eat except for a couple bananas and a protein shake after the game. The others went to have dinner together but Adam was beat and set out to his hotel room, where he made a quick change into some shorts and literally sunk into the mattress. His stomach was now beating him up for not having a proper meal. He lost so many calories during the game that his body was in a starving state.

“Well?” Takashi crossed his arms and glared down at him. He was probably hungry too.

“I am hungry….” Adam sat up in the bed, keeping the blankets over his shoulders for warmth. “But I don’t want Mcdonald’s.”

In fact, the idea of it made his stomach recoil a bit. He didn’t mind the fast food usually, but after waking up from a deep sleep? Not ideal.

Takashi was silent for a moment, seemingly thinking. He then pulled out his phone and began typing on it.

“Do you feel like walking?” Takashi asked.

Adam shrugged. A midnight walk didn’t sound awful. He actually enjoyed them if he was in the company of a friend or two.

“There’s a 24/7 convenience store five minutes from here.” Takashi looked up from his phone to stare at him, inquiring. “Do you want me to pick something up for you?”

Adam thought about it. On one side, he wanted to stay in bed. The hotel room was especially cozy, and the city lights outside his window tried to lure him back to sleep. And looking at the streets below, he noticed fresh snowfall. He could stay inside, safe from the cold, and wouldn’t have to get dressed either.

But on the other hand, it was only a five minute walk, and walking in the snow sounded just as inviting as laying in the warmth of his bed. And Takashi would be there with him. That idea alone had Adam craving something similar to companionship, but not quite. He couldn’t quite explain it. Something about walking around in the middle of the night, seeking food with his best friend in a city constantly bustling with college students who were also out on a walk, whether for food as well or from a club…it was like nostalgia, in a way. But Adam could not recall ever doing such a thing in the past. Maybe with family or old friends, but never so late.

“Okay.” Adam made up his mind, stretching one more time before pulling the covers away.

Takashi tilted his head, looking for a clearer answer to his question than the one he was provided with. “Okay, what?”

“Okay, let’s go to the convenience store.”

“You want to come with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Alrighty. Hurry up then. I’m starving.”

In less than five minutes, they were exiting the hotel elevator and made their way outside through the grand lobby. It was quiet, and their footsteps echoed against the smooth tile. The receptionist paid them no mind.

As soon as they stepped outside, it was even quieter. The snow had built a heavy blanket over the sidewalks and parked cars, muffling the sounds of the city. Passing vehicles drove carefully over the salted roads and squelched over gray sludge. Only a few groups of people mingled about, most of whom were inside the many cafes and diners in the area, trying to stay someplace warm for a bit.

And walking beside Adam was Takashi, who made it his duty to talk Adam’s ear off. In the five minutes it took for them to reach the corner store, Takashi was on his tenth topic of conversation, water-vapor blowing from his mouth in short puffs of smoke from the cold. And when the doors slid open for them, his voice lowered into a low mumble to match the volume of the store.

It continued like this as they wandered down all six aisles of the small shop. Their conversation quickly shifted to food as they eyed various snacks and groceries. Shopping while hungry was dangerous, and Adam tried to suppress his urge to buy everything he craved. The team was leaving for a different city tomorrow morning, so the less baggage the better. He just needed something he could eat and dispose of quickly.

He had to constantly remind Takashi of this as well.

“Ha, look.”

Adam turned away from the many versions of Cheez Its to peer over at what Takashi was pointing at. He grimaced. “Sour Patch Kids cereal?”

“Sounds gross right?” Takashi laughed, then paused to stare at the abomination for a moment. “I want it.”

“You’re disgusting.”

It took Adam a few tries to convince the impulsive man that he shouldn’t buy it. Takashi only agreed with him after Adam pointed out that if he bought cereal, he’d have to buy milk, and what was he going to do with the milk tomorrow? Leave it at the hotel? Dump it and waste money? Bring it with him on the bus and risk spoiling it?

“I’ll just eat as much cereal as I can with it and then drink the rest if I have to.”

That resulted in Adam snatching the box from a laughing Takashi and placing it back on the shelf.

After more wandering, they eventually found food suitable for their cravings: Adam decided on a premade buffalo chicken wrap, hot chocolate, and a bag of hot fries, while Takashi settled on a lunchable, chocolate milk, and four Slim Jims. They paid and traveled back to the hotel, eating their snacks on the way.

Adam watched with absolute horror as Takashi opened up each Slim Jim, held them in one hand, and bit into all four in one bite.

“Takashi.”

The barbarian glanced down at him, asking what was up with a mouth full of Slim Jims.

Adam gave him a disappointed look. “Why?”

His only response was a goofy smile.

Upon arriving at their shared hotel room, Takashi’s Slim Jims were gone, Adam’s hot chocolate was warm enough to finally drink from, and his bag of hot fries was half empty, courtesy of both Takashi and himself.

“What lunchable did you get?” Adam asked as Takashi unlocked their door. Pushing it open, Takashi marched inside, singing his answer to Adam’s question with a light voice.

“Pizzaaa~”

“Of course~” Adam sang back.

They convened in Adam’s room with the rest of their food. Well, more like Adam had walked to his room and Takashi simply followed. Adam of course didn’t mind.

They easily melted into their usual comfortable and laid back routine, chatting on the bed as they chowed down. Takashi was very particular in how he set up his mini pizzas; the order absolutely had to be sauce, then cheese, then pepperoni. Adam pointed out that if he placed the pepperonis down before the cheese, he could use them to spread the sauce around evenly. Takashi looked at him as if he was the one who had bit into four Slim Jims all at once.

“Heretic,” Takashi accused him, and when Adam kicked his leg, he threatened to crush him if he did it again. Adam didn’t hesitate—he kicked Takashi again.

Takashi stared at him with a twinkling, impish look in his eyes. “You have until I finish my lunchable to apologize.”

Apparently by ‘crush’ Takashi meant plopping his entire body on top of Adam’s.

Once they finished their food and after Takashi felt Adam was adequately crushed, they settled into a comfortable silence, laying side by side. It wasn’t until Adam whipped out his phone to scroll through social media that Takashi repositioned himself on his side, head on Adam’s shoulder as he watched him scroll mindlessly.

Adam didn’t mind. He trusted Takashi, and if anything weird popped up, he knew Takashi’s socials were probably even weirder. That didn’t stop his commentary though.

“Kinky.”

“Shut up.”

Takashi chuckled, the breathy kind. The type of laugh that was only a puff of air and a soft hum. It brushed against Adam’s skin. His heart felt like it was blooming.

“Do you want to finish that one walkthrough?” Adam whispered, and he mayhaps turned his face a little so his nose could bump against Takashi’s.

Takashi hummed his affirmation, eyelids drooping. His breath once more tickled Adam’s skin.

Knowing they were going to fall asleep, they both decided to discard their jeans. Adam changed into the same shorts he had slept in before while Takashi remained in his boxers, too tired to travel the distance to his room. Adam didn’t want him to anyway. He knew Takashi would probably fall right asleep in his own bed if he left to change, and Adam wasn’t quite ready to give up his companionship just yet. He wanted to stay close, nuzzling his shoulder back underneath Takashi’s head to reclaim their position from before. Takashi happily obliged and let out a sigh so blissful one would think he had found the gates of heaven. Adam tried his best to ignore the way his skin prickled, how his heart felt opened and exposed like a blossoming flower. He swallowed it all down and played the video game walkthrough they started watching together last week.

Ten minutes in and Takashi was sound asleep, warm and comfortable against Adam’s side. Adam wanted to soak himself in that warmth, bury himself in it. Every point of contact between them was set aflame: the head on Adam’s shoulder, the arm resting flush against his, and the knee laying on top of his thigh. It was a loving and furious kind of heat, one that battled against the snowfall outside.

The best sleep awaited Adam, one he had no issue in partaking in. He only wished he could stay awake a little longer to appreciate all that was around him, like the soft mattress, the heavy duvet splayed over his form, the soft light protruding from the window and the now quiet city beneath it. And Takashi, dreaming beside him.

Soon, Adam will be dreaming as well, but before he could submit to the warm embrace of a good night’s rest, he turned his head until it bumped against Takashi’s.

Adam exhaled a final sigh, and drifted off to the lullaby of Takashi’s soft breathing.

#adashi #shadam #vld shiro #vld adam #vld #voltron #phew havent used those tags in a while #hockey au #yes i am still very much into hockey LMAO #cant stop wont stop

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albatris · 2 years

Note

Hello beautiful you!!! You!! With the Wonderful Music Taste!! Mayhaps.... Quinn? I ALSO want Nat, because I am SELFISH. Also I love you I am gifting a soup mug of my beloved sweet potato chili served with your choice of greek yogurt, cheddar cheese, chives, or a mix of any in a tiny leetle decorative mound for fancie mwah

hello!!!!! mwah!!! I hope you're having a good day!!! thank you for this question and thank you for your gift of sweet potato chili with this beautiful assortment of extras and fancie ;-; I am hungry now ahahahaha

(on this note I have never tried sweet potato chili before and I would absolutely love to taste some of yours because it sounds so good. so so good. aaaaa)

anyway. Quinn tunes! Nat tunes! mayhaps some Quinn And Nat Combined tunes? I got a few of those up my sleeve!

Quinn and Nat were both popular choices for this ask game ahaha, so I'm planning to do different flavours of tunes for each response to keep it interesting maybe possibly. or maybe not, maybe I will just end up throwing tunes about with no rhyme or reason. but for now. uh. Nat And Quinn Tunes!

ramble time ramble time I'm sorry I'm sorry it's ramble time

first up are "Hey, Runner!" by The Arcadian Wild and "call me pretty" by elliotly, which both vaguely tie into the Nat/Quinn dynamic at different points of the story c:

"Hey, Runner!" I believe is told through a single narrator but in relation to the story, the lyrics slip between Nat Narrator Vibes and Quinn Narrator Vibes from line to line in a way that's meant to be confusing and hard to follow. their energy is essentially Quinn being in control and convincing Nat he's in control and just lots of stupid mind games that usually result in Quinn winning out and Nat not realising he's being manipulated into helping them. it's a bop! as a general rule the chorus belongs to Quinn,

"You better run fast / Get it done even if it takes all night / I don't know what else you've been told but I'm above that / And if I change my mind it'll be alright / It's not like you got somewhere to be"

as do any lines referencing being a volunteer, as a fun little hop between this person who is absolutely 100% in control and pulling all the strings and manipulating others to get what they want, but also being someone who feigns ignorance at the last second all like "no no no no, see, I'm the one helping you, of course! that's obvious! I'm no threat, you're in control here, not me :)", which is basically the entire foundation of Nat and Quinn's early relationship

hey! you owe them :) you need them :) they're helping you out of the goodness of their heart <3

the bridge belongs to Nat,

"I've got somewhere to be / And I'll never get there while you're stepping on me / I'm caught beneath you / Caught beneath your vanity / So why do I keep running?"

n "Go take a ride on your high horse / And don't you wait to ask for more" also belongs to Quinn, immediately followed by "I've got an eternity of time to abuse / Never mind, it's all for you to use" which belongs to Nat

also this song is such an earworm lmao

"call me pretty" is...................... self-explanatory. for a mid-story Nat/Quinn dynamic. after Nat steps the fuck up and calls Quinn on their bullshit and knocks them down a few pegs and Quinn is weirdly weirdly into it because being on equal footing with someone who can destroy you as easily as you could destroy them is just deliciously thrilling

"Call me pretty, not my name / What can I say? You're to blame / Your hands, your face / Wrap me in lace / Call me yours, I'll call you mine / Tracing flowers down my spine / Make me a god / You're fanged and clawed"

but honestly the whole song and all lyrics r just. chefs kiss. perfect vibes

oh, just a little tune for the start of an equal Nat/Quinn dynamic with a dash of unhinged romantic tension, and the realisation that they can both help each other reach their Full Deranged Potential if they accept each other as partners in a team and have each other's backs

also did I mention the Unhinged Romantic Tension

you can have a few other tunes!

“I Will Follow You into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie is good and tender, though a bit of a cliche choice perhaps

“Love of mine / Someday you will die / But I’ll be close behind / I’ll follow you into the dark / No blinding light / Or tunnels to gates of white / Just our hands clasped so tight”

n I’ve gotta toss “Crane Your Neck” by Lady Lamb out there too

like! idk, it’s a gentle song, and it is also absolutely not a gentle song at all. idk. the general overarching vibe between Nat and Quinn is “let me help you be gentle and soft” and “let me help you be monstrous” respectively, just like!!! after they establish equal footing, Nat consistently allowing Quinn the space to be vulnerable and soft and open and to learn how to be loved rather than feared, n Quinn consistently allowing Nat the space to be Rightfully Fucking Furious at his circumstances, at the way the world works, at the way he’s been stepped on, and to not take any of it lying down

n this song is just such a nice bridge between those two energies while still being just such a tender vibe

finally I’d be remiss if I didn’t add “It Will Come Back” by Hozier

both for the extremely literal and on-the-nose “Don’t let me in with no intention to keep me / Jesus Christ, don’t be kind to me / Honey, don’t feed me, I will come back” but also because the whole song is just “good fucking luck getting rid of me now lmao” from start to finish which goes both directions for these two fucking idiots

anyway those are some Nat and Quinn tunes, I hope you vibed with ‘em, n thank you for letting me ramble as always

:D!!!!

ily B!!!!

#''autoclave'' by the mountain goats gets an incredibly honourable mention but i had already rambled enough ahahaha #anyway uhhh #idk if i'll have enough tunes to mix it up #i have Quinn Tunes #i have Nat Tunes #i have a subset of Nat Tunes which are Garble-Nat tunes #i have Nat And Quinn tunes #the closest thing i have to a subset of Quinn Tunes is ''Tunes That Are Quinn Tunes That Quinn Would Absolutely Despise''#which is fun for me lmao #a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears

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catte-bard · 3 years

Text

FFXIV Write 2021 #13: Oneirophrenia

Urianger in his few months of knowing the pixies felt there were two very important facts about them. They were rather friendly, little creatures. And they were mischievous little devils. Fond of mayhem they were always trying to find little tricks to play on visitors to Il Mheg.

And Urianger was their favourite playmate. The mysterious elf who spoke with a funny voice and who had taken up residence in one the old mortal dwellings. He absolutely delighted them. Mortals never stayed in Il Mheg; they feared the fey and usually tried to pass through quickly when traveling its roads.

Today he had been making notes of the different kinds of flora that bloomed the land. Making quick sketches—though his hand wasn’t as talented as young Master Alphinaud’s—as well as jotting notes down about them.

Fascinating, it was all incredibly fascinating. He had theorized that Il Mheg must be somewhere geographically where Ishgard is on the Source. And yet it possessed a completely different clime.

He had been studying the plant life, curious to see if there were any similarities to those on his home shard. However, much of the flora seemed to have evolved in its own way separate from those on the Source. Which he supposed would make sense. The First’s history had been carved out in a different path from the Source. It had experienced its own eras, its own disasters, tragedies, and other impactful events. And so the flora and fauna and even the landscape itself would’ve adapted differently.

“Urianger!” A chipper voice suddenly popped into existence.

“Good morning to thee, Kenn Beq.” Urianger hummed as he scribbled something down in his journal about the tree he was resting under.

“What are you doing this time?” Kenn Beq asked, flitting close to look over his shoulder. “Oh what pretty pictures! Uri likes flowers! Lemme see! Lemme see! Don’t be shy now!”

And with a flick of their wrist, Urianger’s journal was suddenly lifted out of his hands and into the air. The Archon let out a noise of protest. It seemed the pixies were in a mischievous mood today.

“Kenn Beq.” Urianger fiercely said as if reprimanding a child. “Return that at once.”

They merely giggled at him and leafed through the pages. “Oh calm yourself. I only want to look. Oooh, Uri seems to be a scholar as well. Kenn Sul, come look!” They then called and another pixie popped forth.

Kenn Sul and Kenn Beq were perhaps the equivalent of twins in the world of mortals. The other pixies explained that the pair had been “born” together. And thus the two of them together were the source of much mayhem.

In truth, Urianger always found them rather endearing. Perhaps, reminded of another set of twins he knew well; and thus tolerated their presence. However, today he was in no mood to entertain these two.

“Oooh, how pretty!” Kenn Sul fawned. “You should have told us you liked flowers, Uri.”

He sighed. “Aye, I wish to learn more about thou’s land. And I’ve found the best way to learn about one’s surroundings is to observe the plant life. Now if you would be so kind.” And he stretched out his hand, waiting for his book to be returned to him.

The twins shared a look. And he did not like the smirks on their faces. The pixies were like children, he’d decided—very naughty children. Always scheming something wicked.

“Oh fine.” Kenn Beq agreed and sent the book floating back down to him.

“Uri, if you like flowers we can lead you to some very special ones!” Kenn Sul then said. “Ones that aren’t in your pretty book yet!”

Kenn Beq clapped their hands together in excitement. “Yes, yes! Oh I love those! I would love to see them in your book!”

Urianger eyed them warily. Wisely wondering if the two were up to any tricks. One had to be careful when trusting a pixie. Sometimes they were honest creatures and sometimes they would lead you straight into the jaws of a hungry draco.

And these two were no exception. Nay they were much worse!

“I am too busy for games, my friends.” He shook his head. “Mayhaps another time.”

And Kenn Sul made a stomping motion in the air, crossing their arms. “But it is no game. We mean it!”

“Yes!” Kenn Beq added. “There is a flower patch on the far end of Il Mheg that we know you want to...to sturdy? No that’s not the right word for it? Um Kenn Sul, what was it scholars like Uri did again?”

“I believe it was study.” Their twin offered. “Oh you were quite close!”

Kenn Beq did a twirl in the air at the praise before turning their attention back to Urianger. “Come, come! We’ll show you. And if it’s a rotten trick of ours then you’re free to cuff Kenn Sul across the head a few times as punishment.”

And with that Kenn Beq flitted off.

“H-hey!” Their sibling called after them as they followed. “Why do I have to take the brunt of the blame?!”

Urianger sighed; he could just stay here and return to his studies. Perhaps even return to the Bookman’s Shelves for a lunch. But he felt the twins would take offense to that. They would come pester him until he agreed to come with them on their little adventure. And if not that, they certainly would find a cruel trick to play on him.

And so against his better judgement, he tucked his journal under his arm and followed the tittering fey.

“See Uri!” Kenn Sul proudly announced when they had arrived at their destination.

The pixies flew excited circles around him, pointing at a cluster of shrubs with bright purple flowers blooming on them. Indeed he had never seen these flowers on his travels before. And drew closer out of curiosity. Upon closer inspection he found the flowers’ petals were also speckled with yellow like little freckles. And the flowers themselves were about the size of his entire hand.

“How fascinating.” The Archon hummed and opened his journal to take notes. “And what are these called?”

Kenn Beq came flitting up to rest upon his shoulder. “The mortals that lived here long ago had a name for them—I don’t remember what it was though. We pixies however call them Dreaming-While-Awakes.”

An odd name. He’d have to poor through the tomes at his home to see if he could discover its proper one.

“Are they poisonous? Or dangerous at all?” Urianger tilted his head. He knew many flowers were deceptively beautiful and here and the land of fey one could never be too careful. Just the other day a pixie had warned him to stay away from a cotton-like plant that was said to sting like nettles despite its soft appearance.

“No.” Kenn Beq said, casually swaying their legs. “We’ve never seen it harm mortals before.”

He nodded and assuming Kenn Beq’s knowledge could be trusted, he made note of the observation in his journal. And out of curiosity reach out to touch one of the soft looking petals.

The moment his finger brushed against the petal the flower shuddered and sprayed out a cloud of what he assumed to be some kind of mist or pollen. And then it closed up at once, curling itself into a tight little bud.

Urianger startled, coughing and hacking on the strange concoction it had assaulted him with. The smell was absolutely horrendous, it burned his throat and made his eyes water.

Faintly he could hear the twins laughing at him. Accursed little imps! He should have known better! However, before he could berate them for their trickery, they quickly flew off.

Whatever ailed him seemed to finally dissipate after a few agonizing minutes, though Urianger still suffered from its effects. Do not rub your eyes. It could spread the irritant and damage sight. His studies reminded him. And so he kept his hands away from his face.

It took a moment, but the burning seemed to abate to a more tolerable level. He paused for a moment, doing a mental well-being check. He didn’t seem ill or in any pain—the only thing plaguing him were eyes and a slight headache. But otherwise he didn’t seem to be in any danger.

It seemed Kenn Beq had not lied in that regard. The spray probably was some sort of defense mechanism for the plant. To keep itself from being eaten. He made a note of this within his journal before turning to head home.

During the walk back he did not encounter Kenn Beq or Kenn Sul again. The pair of them smartly staying away from him while his anger was still hot. On the morrow they’d probably come bearing gifts of apology, usually polished stones from the river that they thought were pretty.

And so his walk had gone undisturbed. However, about halfway he had to pause. The throbbing in his head had grown steadily worse. Going from a dull ache to a full on piercing pain. A side effect from the flower?

He groaned, clutching at his head with a hand. He winced at the sun beating down on him. was it always so bright? It made him feel nauseated under its beating warmth. Had that flower been poisonous?

Gods, above he felt so dizzy—the world was spinning and—

“You alright love?”

A voice snapped him from whatever was ailing him.

“You’re not looking too good. What tried to drink Thancred under the table? Though I have to say that’s not a very hard feat to accomplish.”

That voice…

His head still ached and he had to squint through the bright sunlight at the figure before him. It couldn’t be and yet...it sounded like her. It...it looked like her.

He could feel himself trembling as his lips parted to form her name. It couldn’t be. It was impossible.

Yet there she stood grinning at him, hands propped on her hips. “Come on then, up you go.” She insisted. “We need to get back home;?don’t want to be out here in the dark, do you?”

Finally. Finally he had the strength to form her name on his tongue. “Moenbryda?” He whispered incredulously.

She cocked her head. “Were you expecting someone else?”

Once again he was left speechless. How? How was this possible? This had to be a trick! Some cruel, cruel trick done by the pixies. He felt angry. He felt sorrow he thought he buried welling up within him again.

Abruptly, Moenbyrda’s smile fell and was replaced by an expression of concern. “Are you alright, love?” She asked moving forward to cup his face between her hands. And Urianger was surprised to find her touch warm. So real.

“How…” Urianger managed to find his voice. And he could feel tears misting in his eyes. “How are you here?”

Moenbryda seemed surprised and even offended at that. “Urianger...I’ve always been with you. Don’t you remember?” A frown furrowed her brow as she placed the back of her hand against his forehead. “Hmph, that flower must’ve done a number on you, eh? You’re positively burning up. Come on, let’s go back home and prep some tea. That always makes you feel better.”

“But…” Urianger began to protest.

“Hush my dear.” Moenbryda told him and patted him on the cheek. “It’s all going to be okay. You just need to rest.”

Something in her words seemed to soothe him. The emotions rattling within him stilled. And suddenly he felt so tired.

“Right...right.” He murmured, feeling dazed and let her lead him back home.

This felt strange. Like it shouldn’t be happening. And yet...her hands had felt so real against his cheeks. Her fingers felt so real as they entwined with his. And her voice, her sweet voice—he could never mistake it. It was her.

And yet it couldn’t be. Back and forth his mind warred like that. Illogical and logical fighting to dominate his mind which right now felt as if a fog had settled over it.

It didn’t feel right but Moen had promised all was well. And well...he trusted her.

They had made it to the Rising Stones.

Wait...that’s not right. Is it?

He couldn’t ponder on it much longer before Moenbryda dragged him inside. She had settled down at a table and quickly shooed him away, insisting that he start a kettle for them.

“And why am I making the tea when it was thee whom suggested it?” Urianger had asked.

And Moenbryda grinned that wonderful smile of hers. Wry and filled with mischief. “Because you need something to occupy your mind, silly thing. You’ve walked the whole way here with a blank look on your face like your head was suddenly empty.” She teased. “You need something to do to get that brain of yours working again.”

He merely shook his head and wandered over to the stove to prepare the tea. Cheeky. She was always so cheeky. And that was one of the things he loved most about her.

The thought tugged at something at the back of his mind. And the dizzy spell that had ailed him earlier had suddenly returned. The elezen had to lean against the nearby wall for a moment to get his bearings. Why was he feeling so nauseous all of a sudden?

“Is everything alright, Urianger?” he heard Moenbryda call out to him. “You haven’t been acting well since that incident with that flower. Funny thing must be messing with your head.”

“Yes...the flower.” He murmured and clutched at his head. Something about that was making his head throb again. What had Kenn Beq called it? Something wasn’t right. “The Rising Stones. How...did we get here? We were just in Il Mheg.”

“We walked here, obviously. Are you feeling okay?”

No. Not at all. Something...something wasn’t right.

“I am fine.” Urianger reassured, shaking his head to clear it. And with trembling hands he turned his attention back to his task. Right...he needed to put the kettle on to warm the water—

Two cups of tea sat before him. Warm and with steam rising up from them. How? Had he already brewed it and just wasn’t paying attention?

“Uri!” Moenbryda called impatiently. “Are you going to hog it all for yourself?”

He pushed down the nauseated feeling rising within him and turned to carry the cups to his waiting companion. This was nice. How long had it been since the two of them enjoyed a nice tea and chat together?

Again the tugging at his mind came. The flower. Il Mheg. Sitting here in the Rising Stones didn’t seem to fit with it. His sluggish mind swept it away. Focus on tea with Moen not that.

The two of them chatted pleasantly. Reminiscing in old memories and recounting stories of their time after graduating the Studium. It was a pleasant time and Urianger felt he had not had genuine laughter in so long.

He couldn’t help but to feel he was forgetting something though. Something that kept nagging at the back of his mind. It had been tugging on him ever since meeting Moenbryda again.

There was something about her. Something about this day. This very moment. And every time he tried to focus on it he was left feeling dizzy.

“Mm you always made the finest tea, Urianger.” Moenbryda praised as she took a long sip. Knocking it back as if it were a tankard of ale. “Always could taste the care you put into it.”

“Preparing tea is an art.” Urianger replied as he took his own sip. Puzzlement welled up within him. His tasted so plain. Had he put enough herbs in it? “Master Loiusoix taught me that important lesson. “

Moenbryda hummed. “You were always his favourite.”

He set his foul tea aside, no longer having the taste for it. “Do not pretend that he never had a fondness for thee.”

She merely shrugged at that and crossed one leg over the other. “Do you miss him?”

The question seemed out of nowhere and surprised Urianger. He scowled and looked down at his lap. “Aye.” He admitted. “Every day, I long for his wisdom and his guidance. For there are some days where I oft wonder if I am taking the right steps. And if I am taking them down the right path.”

Moenbryda hummed thoughtfully. “And me? Do you miss me?”

That question was odd that it made him jerk his head up to see...her fading.

“Moen?” He whispered in worry.

She was fading. Fading away again.

Something...something was wrong. He felt hot all over and that piercing pain in his head from earlier had returned.

“Moen…” Urianger reached out to grasp her hands. “Moenbryda, what is wrong?!” Desperation made his voice hoarse.

And his dear friend stared at him sadly. And yet she smiled. “Ah told you that silly flower was messing with your head.”

The flower? Yes...yes he remembered now. The fog was slowly lifting and his head was clearer.

Kenn Beq had called something peculiar…Dreaming-While-Awake.

“This isn’t real.” He admitted to himself.

“No.” Moenbryda beamed. “But at least it was nice while it lasted.”

He stared at her sadly and when to grab her hand this time his fingers brushed through it. He closed his eyes with a grimace. Of course, he should’ve known better. Known that such a perfect moment could only exist within the confines of his mind.

“Oh don’t be sad, dear.” Moenbryda consoled. “I told you before, I’ve always been with you.”

“Yes…” He agreed, closing his hand into a fist and looking down at the table. “But only within mine dreams.”

“And within your heart.” She told him.

“And within mine heart.” He repeated solemnly. “I suppose it does answer thine question though. ” He murmured, looking up at the empty air where she’d once been. “I do miss thee terribly.”

When he came out of the strange vision, Urianger found himself lying in a field. Likely somewhere in between where the flowers had been and the Bookman’s Shelves. He hadn’t seemed to travel far in his stupor.

He groaned, wincing at the piercing pain in his skull. Now seeming a thousand times worse with him being awake. He awoke feeling sweaty and hot. And when he tried to stand he instantly regretted it, forced back to his knees as he retched up the contents of his stomach.

Twelve, allow me strength to make it back home.

This would be the last time he trusted the fey on botanistic excursions.

Journal Entry No. 63

Dreamer’s Neem (the the pixies seem to dub it Dreaming-While-Awake)

A beautiful looking flower that grows to about the size of a grown Elezen male’s hand. A light shade of purple and dappled with yellow freckles it seems to grow on shrubs in isolated patches around Il Mheg.

As a defense mechanism against creatures that would try to prey upon it, the plant sprays the aggressor with an agitating powder before closing in on itself. It should be noted that this powder contains a very potent hallucinogenic agent that causes truly powerful visions that seem to affect all the senses.

The former human inhabitants seemed to have used the flower for recreational purposes. Similar to the use of milkweed on the Source. It should be noted however, that while the plant may not be deadly it is best to avoid it. The effects of its defensive powder could prove to be overwhelming to individuals not familiar with the plant.

It should also be well noted that an individual exposed should be given cool water and broth for the rest of the day. The after effects of the hallucinations may leave them weak of stomach. And solid foods could agitate their condition.

Have care for thee whom wouldst seek out this plant. For the vision it offers may not always be pleasant. Speaking from mine own experience it was rather tame. Though other accounts I hath read indicate more nightmarish experiences. How lucky I was in mine own…

#ffxivwrite2021 #final fantasy xiv #Urianger Augurelt #writing

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benhardypout-archive · 3 years

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016. fever

a/n: another chapter from my Wonty “comfort fics “Dirty Little Secret”. As I mentioned from the previous chapter I posted few days ago, I’m just going to post some chapters which I enjoyed writing. So the number is the chapter of this fic, and this is the chapter 16, hence, 016. Enjoy reading! 🙈

Monty didn't sit next to me on our third. But if I'd be honest, I'm still salty about yesterday. I know I'm not in the place to do so…

Maybe I'm just hoping that somehow he cared about me since that's what he's starting to make me feel, and not let me hope for nothing.

Just because he apologized, and agreed to meet you in your place tomorrow, you thought he cared.

Ugh! whatever.

So when I caught him staring as I ate with Charlie that lunch, maybe I had been extra chatty towards the latter.

Yes, he joined me at lunch again, and with Alex this time. Unfortunately, Charlie just made himself look awkward. He obviously didn't know how to make a conversation with Alex, so he talked to me instead, which became favorable for me. Apparently, Alex got the wrong idea and thought that Charlie was hitting on me.

Oh, if only he knew.

I exchanged numbers with him since he asked for it, only to bombard me with questions about Alex. I told him that I'm not some slam book or Alex's diary who's carrying all the information he wanted to know about him, so he should be the one making a move towards the guy himself. But he pleaded, for me to help him out at least, and enlighten him some basic things about my friend- he's been using the word to persuade me- like his favourite food, movie, color, hobbies and such, which I realized I didn't really have ample knowledge about. Though, I still promised to help him in any way I can, as a kindred spirit I am. Then I just learned that my friend and Zach wasn't like a real thing yet, but they have a thing. Well, relationships could be complicated.

And that's it, that's all I know about my 'so-called friend'.

So, I deemed it safe for Charlie to take his chances and make a move on Alex. Even giving him words of encouragement to do so. Go, Charlie!

By afternoon after class, since the Football practice had been cancelled due to Coach Kerba's absence, I spent it at Monet's, attempting to do some homework. I didn't ask Estella to come. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a while.

"Is this seat taken?"

I froze knowing the voice so well.

What's he doing here?

Looking up, I had to blink a few and asked myself if I'm dreaming. Then I glanced around before I nodded and let him sit with me, taking the seat in front of me.

We were quiet at first, me flipping through my notes. Pretending rather, as I found it hard to concentrate anymore with him around.

I cleared my throat and asked where Estella was. I wanted to reason that he couldn't come here all by himself, so he should be at least with his sister, but decided against it. He said she's having a night out with some friends.

I just hoped it's true and she's not with that guy, Gavin, somewhere. Perhaps, I'm starting to be protective of her too, and I caught myself sending a quick text to her asking where she was.

She replied: With Gavin.

I knew it.

I told her to be careful and to call me if she needed some help or just anything.

I turned back to Monty and asked him in a hushed tone, "What are you doing here?"

He let out a smirk and said, "What do you think?"

I looked around, even though it's obvious that students from Liberty were everywhere in this little coffee shop. "I think we're not supposed to be here together."

He moved towards, resting his elbows on the table, his face quite dangerously close to mine and whispered, "We're working on a project." He held my gaze and gave a ghostly smirk, before leaning back to his chair. We were silent for a second as he lightly tapped his fingers on the table. Clearing his throat, he said, "By the way, I… apologized to Tyler."

Blinking, I looked at him in disbelief. Smile then stretched out my lips. I wanted to ask why, though I didn't want to sound like I doubt his sincerity. I wanted to believe he's wanting to change.

Then I caught Ani with Jessica from afar glancing our way.

I casually moved my gaze back to Monty. And focused down my homework. "People are looking," I whispered.

"Let them look," he said.

He, mayhap, asked me about Charlie's deal with me as he began pulling his own homework, suggesting for us to work together.

I said nothing. And changed the topic to where we are now… in my house.

We only had the place to ourselves. Our maid was out shopping for groceries, so it may take a while before she could come back.

We're settled in the living, flopped down on the couch.…watching some movies on Netflix. A bowl of popcorn between us. We both pretended to pay attention to the movie, when my hand, as I blindly grabbed a handful of popcorn, accidentally collided with Monty's, whose hands were already dipped in the bowl.

I stopped and turned to him. His gaze on me.

"Sorry," I pulled my hand away.

He sighed, taking his empty hands off the bowl, and shifted closer to me, enough to make my heart skip.

I just focused my eyes back on the show. It's a movie from the 80's, entertaining enough. Although, I know I would appreciate it more, but not with Monty around who had completely stolen my interest.

"Seriously, what's your deal with Charlie?" I heard him say.

I sat back, suppressing a smile. I couldn't believe he's not done with that talk yet. So he really wanted to know.

I turned to him, making sure I looked innocent. "I told you. None."

"Then why does he keep clinging to you?"

Clinging?

I looked away and decided to chew on some popcorn since I couldn't hold my smile anymore. Thanks, popcorn.

"Maybe he's just trying to be friendly," I reasoned after swallowing the popcorn down. Then I shifted, turning my body his way. "I think I should be the one asking you why your friend keeps on hanging around us."

He moved his eyes to me from the TV and I swear, I could stare at him all day, and wouldn't be tired. I began counting the freckles that scattered around his face.

"We're not really that kind of friends," he said. Then he snatched the bowl of popcorn from my hands to his lap.

I frowned. "Hey--"

"Trying to be friendly, eh?" he scoffed and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth and added, "Why don't I believe you?"

I grimaced. Couldn't believe he would show me his unethical side.

"Didn't your parents teach you not to speak when your mouth's full?"

It's too late when I realized what I said. I know his deal with his parents. Fuck you, Winston.

But then he smiled, and playfully threw a popcorn to my forehead.

Frowning, I touched where the popcorn hits. Okay, I think I deserved that.

"Why don't I believe you?" he said, but he's still smiling. It took me a second to realize that he just repeated what he said; maybe he thought I didn't understand him after speaking with his mouth full.

I decided to play dumb. "What do you mean?"

He just ignored me and continued on his rambling.

"Really, why?" This time he looked serious and held my gaze. "He isn't like…" he trailed off and moved his eyes to the side, looking away, "... trying to hit on you, right?" With reluctance, he moved his eyes back to me.

Hiding a smile, I turned to face the TV. "And… what if he does?... I mean, Charlie can be cute."

He scoffed, a loud one at that. I felt him shift, but I kept still, trying to make sense of the movie and failing.

"So you like him."

My skin jumped, feeling his breath close to my neck, his voice soft but clear against my ear.

I glimpsed at him, he's a little close with me, but still keeping a safe space between us. However, for me, it's dangerous.

I swallowed. "...I don't."

He scoffed again. "Oh yeah? Is that why you find him cute?"

"Just because I find him cute doesn't mean I like him. Give me back the popcorn."

"No, you get it yourself."

"Tell me why does it seem a big deal to you?" I turned to him, forgetting for a second how close he was, and now we're practically face to face. I held my breath, and froze in my place.

None of us moved. Our eyes silently travelled down to our face with our hitched breaths and racing hearts.

Damn. I wanted to kiss him. So. Fucking. Bad.

But I'm surprised how I'm still able to control myself; maybe it's the fear he'd punch me again.

Though, my mouth started to feel dry.

"Kiss me," he whispered against my lips, causing my heart to beat even faster as if it's possible.

My throat moved as I looked down his lips.

Slowly, I inched towards him, closing my eyes, until his dry trembling ones brushed against mine. I'm glad I wasn't the only one who's trembling. I didn't make a move and just teased our lips together, but that simple contact already caused us to inhale sharply. So we had to break off, when I felt him grab the back of my neck and pulled me back, crashing his chapped lips on mine.

He took in a deep breath, and stayed just like that, unsure what to do next. So I decided to take the lead.

Sliding my hands between us, I reached for his chin, opening our mouths, so I could have more access.

His breath hitched, making me smile, as I grazed my tongue, licking the dryness of his lips before I slid it in and explored his mouth. He inhaled once more and quivered against me. His hands were tight on my sides but I loved how he's holding me.

"Relax," I whispered as I continued drowning him with my fiery kisses. He softened and I gave him time to adjust until he's able to catch up with my kisses.

I inhaled, feeling his tongue poking against mine. Soon we're kissing like mad. Our breaths sharp with every stroke of our hungry lips. His hands grabbing my hair and my arms tight around his neck. Our bodies glued together, feeling the heat. We kissed as if our lives depended on it.

I moved my hips wanting to feel him and we tensed feeling how hard we were. He pressed his body more to mine as if it was possible, and felt him move, his hardness rubbing against my thigh, causing me to draw a breathless moan and suck on his lower lip. Our kisses became harder. Hungrier. Intense. And I'd never kissed anyone like this before.

I never knew he could be this passionate and I'm all here for it.

We only stopped to catch our breaths, but he soon collided his lips back to mine, and his kisses became slower but just as ardently.

I could feel myself wanting more, feeling him getting harder as he continued riding my thigh. I didn't notice that he already got me pinned under him, with my back on the couch.

The movie still played in the background as we continued kissing and grinding each other desperately.

"I want you…" he said, breathlessly, between feverish kisses; making me melt but even harder. Is that possible?

"Come on," I pushed him gently, and stood up. And impatiently led him to my bed room.

It only hit me that we were making out boldly in the living room. I'm just relieved our maid hasn't come back yet, or I didn't know what I'd do if she caught us screwing here. Though, the idea seemed thrilling.

We didn't waste any time and kissed as soon as we got to my room. I just managed to push the door. I didn't know if I was able to lock it. I didn't really care.

He shoved me on the bed, and crawled on top of me. I smiled and pulled him down as I brushed my tongue sensually against his parted lips. He smiled, kissing me before he sat up and yanked his top off. Then we began to help each other be free of our clothes; hands fumbled against the fabrics. We gasped as raging teenagers we are, whenever our heated skins made contact. And, I loved it. Loved the feel of his warmth and his weight over me, and how hard he was against my thigh, sending delicious shivers down my body.

Feeling suddenly bold, I reached for his ass. And gave it a meaningful squeeze, earning a moan from him. The sound he made, did things to me. And I'm even more eager to hear them again.

We continued to fool around the bed, moaning and breathing each other's names like a song as the height of pleasure rose within us.

#13rwedit #13rw #13 reasons why #wonty #winston williams #montgomery de la cruz #alex standall #chalex #zalex #charlie st. george #winston x monty #*writings #*wonty #otp:igotthegoodsideofyou #*wonty:dirtylittlesecret #*excerpt #*2021 #hope you guys like #♥

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kesleyjo · 3 years

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I was tagged by the absolute gift that is @sullypants.

How many works do you have on AO3?

4. But hey! One of them is new!

What’s your total AO3 word count?

262,518. Well.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

When I was in high school I wrote for Twilight and General Hospital. The range.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I only have four, but from least kudos to most:

Written in Blood (hey its new!)

Leo & Grace

I'm Sorry for the Things I Said When I was Hungry

For the Crown (the crown jewel...see what I did there...)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! Sometimes very belatedly but I really appreciate every single comment that I get, and I try and make sure that you wonderful people know that. I also really love the different interpretations that people get from my writing and I always find in fun to talk about that.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Well I only have one fic that is actually finished...but since I am very clear on how the other three end... the angstiest ending is and will be for all current fics: I'm Sorry for the Things I Said When I was Hungry. Even then, I don’t think its angsty?

Also I guess possible spoilers for the other three? Not really?

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

So its not written yet, but I think its safe to say the happiest ending will be For the Crown. So something to look forward to!

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Nope! Maybe one day!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I was actually just commenting to some mutuals that I got my first negative asks ever after my most recent fic. And it was pretty mild so I consider myself super lucky. Kudos to all the lovely people who handle the negativity with grace. You are my heroes.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Not yet ;)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know? Knock on wood...

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have had someone ask, but I have not seen the finished product, yet. I cannot imagine the work that would take...so claps all around.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet!

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I mean current fave is obvious. But I have some old faves that still hold a lot of love in my heart.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I’ll be honest, I worry about Leo & Grace. I wrote that as my answer to a soulmate AU...and then I wrote a soulmate AU. The endings are very similar in the two fics and I feel like the ending of the new AU is a little cleaner...but mayhap I will come back to it eventually. I hope to! The outline is done!

What’s your writing strengths?

I take a lot of pride in my ability to incorporate humor in my work. I also think I am pretty good at writing the angst.

What’s your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue I always stress over, but I think my greatest struggle is communicating the tone in my mind into the written word by use of punctuation. I am so used to writing speeches that sometimes I forget the power of punctuation. @sullypants is an absolute hero for assisting me with this.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I am always nervous about it, even in languages that I technically speak (double check my Spanish everybody).

What’s the first fandom you wrote for?

General Hospital. My god.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I have very specific things I like about all my fics, but its got to be For the Crown. It is such an incredible world to write in, and I always have so much fun with it.

Tagging @darknessaroundus @iconic-ponytail and @heartunsettledsoul

#tag game

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rwbyvein · 3 years

Text

Firen Lhain: Chapter 706: The Great Beasts: Part III/III

The eight sat in the back of the bullhead as they flew back to the tower. "Alright," Jaune said, "Before anyone asks, I think we're all going to want to shower when we get home. What time is it?" he asked.

"Just after 16 hundred!" Taj shouted from the front.

"Then let's say," Jaune continued, "we'll meet at 18 hundred to talk about it over dinner."

"That's a LOOOONG shower." Nora stated.

"Nora." Ren admonished.

"Hm?" she asked.

"They might be otherwise occupied during that time."

"Meaning?" Nora asked, until it occured to her, "OH!" She then let out a nervous laugh.

Jaune then looked between his wives, "In the interest of fairness, I won't talk about it until then."

"What are we going to do in the meantime?" Ruby asked.

"'Shower'" Nora said with airquotes.

"Am I missing something?" Ruby asked, and Yang pulled her in for a hug.

"You'll see, sis." Yang whispered.

* * *

Jaune walked in the office to put the paper down and then walked back out. "I can trust everyone to not go in there?"

"Even Weiss?" Ruby asked.

"If she wants to get spanked." Jaune replied.

"A connundrum." Weiss said contemplatively.

"Uh-huh?" Yang asked, pulling off her top, "Enough of this." She then reached behind her back to undo her bra. She did it so vigourously that her breasts bounced around delectably as she pulled them off. "I can't be the only one looking forward do this after a day in the woods."

"Looking forward to what?" Ruby asked.

Yang then slipped off her short skirt before hooking her fingers into the panties, "Maybe we can make the tower shake again."

"No." Jaune said. "I'm a little tired, so we'll have to make this quick."

"An hour and half is quick?" Blake asked.

"For us, it seems." Weiss replied as she slipped out of her dress.

* * *

Jaune slowly hobbled down the stairs, RWBY moving passed him. They were all moving at a relaxed pace, but Jaune was just moving so much slower.

* * *

Everyone stood around the large table, now with centrepieces. They made it more lovely, but also harder to actually see people on the other side.

"LEADER!" Nora shouted as Jaune walked up to the table, and he had to look beside the centrepiece to see her, giving her a weak smile.

"So," Yang asked, "what the hell happened?!"

"I am curious." Weiss said, and Blake gave her a curious look, "Extremely curious."

"What was that?!" Ruby asked.

Jaune raised his hand, causing everyone to quiet up. He breathed in deeply, and it gave him enough energy to stand up properly. "So, the Black Hart is the King of the Woods, and I'm apparently an Earl."

"Why did you ask to be an Earl?" Blake asked with non-judgemental curiosity.

"That," Jaune voiced, "was actually Ren's idea."

"Way to go, Renny." Nora said as she loudly slapped him on the back.

"Okay?.." Yang asked him.

"He was asking for a number of specific allowances." Ren simply stated, "I turned it into a more general grant. I also felt that if we were the stewards of the Woods, then he would be more willing to accept our pressence."

"Okay?" Ruby whined, "but, i mean?.."

"The Black Hart was created by the Brother of Light." Jaune simply stated.

"I'm curious?," Weiss asked, "why no one has encountered him before?"

"It's kind of simple." Jaune stated.

"Kind of?" Weiss asked.

"He doesn't know what we are." Jaune voiced.

"He described us as between Humans and beasts." Ren added.

"He expels Humans from the woods." Jaune stated.

"But?," Nora asked, "the castle?"

"Someone had to come here?" Yang asked.

"They always had trouble." Blake stated, "I wasn't sure what to make about it. A black beast causing problems. I assumed it was a Grimm."

"But?," Yang asked, "I mean, before it was a castle, it was used for cows, wasn't it?"

"When they had sheep," Blake stated, "they were never attacked in the woods. But, they were harried into leaving. The Humans always came and went with the animals, as a form of protection."

"But, it was used, right?" Ruby asked.

"On and off." Blake stated. "They moved in an out a number of times. In the end, the isolation was too much for them, and just gave up."

"So?," Ruby asked, "they WEREN'T living here?"

"By the time of the Great War, the castle was abandoned." Weiss replied, and Blake nodded. Blake then looked at Jaune.

"Now, the big question, is what did you get out of him?"

"Freedom of the woods," Jaune stated, "the right to hunt and forage. The right to sustainable forestry."

"And?," Weiss asked, "the first thing you did when you saw a great black beast was to ask for the right to... forage?.."

"He?," Jaune asked, "talked to us."

"That's it?" Weiss asked, "He talked to us?"

"He didn't have a Grimm mask." Jaune said, "As I said, hang back until we find out what it can do."

"What the fuck was that?" Yang asked.

"hm?" Jaune asked.

"You?," Weiss intejected, "equated feeling out an opponent's modus operandi with... talking to someone who looked like a Grimm?"

"He didn't have the mask," Jaune said, "skull?, whatever."

"And so?," Weiss asked, and momentarily paused to collect her thoughts, "your first insticts were to talk to the mayhap-a-Grimm?"

"What if it attacked?" Yang asked.

"I'm quite durable." Jaune stated.

"That's your answer?" Yang asked.

"He knew where we were." Jaune stated. "If I didn't come forward, there's a good chance he would have attacked us."

"So?," Yang asked, "he would have attacked us anyways?"

"Why did it have to be you?" Ruby asked.

"Because?," Jaune asked, "I wear armour? I have a shield? My primary fighting style is extremely close range? The rest of you are good at swooping in at the last moment and saving me?"

"He makes," Blake said, "several, good points."

"Unfortunately," Weiss stated, "he does."

"It doesn't mean I have to like it." Yang stated.

"No," Weiss fretted, "it does not."

"So?," Ruby asked, "Jaune did something crazy, and it worked out? I do that all the time."

"And it never ceases to surprise," Weiss stated, "and unnerve."

"My point is we should be happy." Ruby emphatically stated, "Jaune did something amazing."

"At that," Weiss voiced, "there is no doubt."

"Not that any of us doubted he would." Aurora stated. "Now that the big reveal is out of the way, I have prepared a meal for our hungry Huntsmen and Huntresses."

"And me?" Taj asked.

"But of course." Aurora stated.

"What about you?" Nora asked, and Aurora smiled brightly in reply. "Once I'm sure the rest of you are satisfied."

"We kind of already took care of that." Yang stated.

"We sapped what little energy he had left." Weiss quipped, and Yang just eyed her.

"Was that?.." Yang asked her.

"Perhaps?" Weiss said with a grin.

"The question?," Blake asked, "is what we do with it?"

"Jaune's spunk?" Yang asked, causing Weiss to cough.

"Perhaps a little too rich for her blood." Aurora interjected.

"It is blue." Blake stated, and Weiss started flushing light blue.

"Well," Ruby added, "the obvious answer is show Ironwood."

"That's obvious?," Weiss asked her, "is it?"

"No, I like it." Yang stated.

"And the sisters agree." Blake stated, "Either the world is going to come to an end, or they are right."

"Damn straight." Yang said, "I mean, uh?, darn."

"What was that?" Weiss asked, and Yang looked about nervously, before looking her back in her eyes.

"It's just, now that I'm certified as a adult," Yang added, "I figured I would start acting like it."

"Like what we did in the bathroom!" Ruby exclaimed.

"Well, no." Yang said, "Okay, I mean, well, yeah, obviously, and I don't intend to stop, but I mean, like, not swearing, and not being such a hothead and whatnot."

"Being a hothead is one of the most amazing things about you." Jaune said to her, causing Blake to eagerly nod.

"You can count on us to cool you off." Blake said to her.

"We so pledge." Weiss added.

"Really?," Yang asked, "I mean, I'm always getting us in trouble."

"Not as much as Ruby or Nora." Blake stated.

"You know it!" Nora shouted, and Ruby looked about nervously.

"Just count on us," Weiss warmly said to her, "to be there for you."

* * *

Note: It always bothered me about how they talked about the gods creating before Humans and Grimm, but this never gets brought up in the story.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight

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rosettesandthorns · 3 years

Text

Is it true? World leaders in Glasgow committed to change?

In 1975 my Dissertation on Climate Change was rubbished by my examiners. Sad souls who wanted to believe what they wanted

Now we and our children/ grand children must face that future due to the denials and inaction of those representing the selfish, greedy and power-hungry.

We need perhaps to read “The Ages of Gaia.” and listen to David Attenborough’s “Blue Planet” and “The Mating Game” to understand why humans should retire from Planet Earth or at least breed at most one per couple per lifetime. Perhaps time for a new Papal Encyclical? Or allow our extinction?

Breed less should be the new Mantra for survival -mayhap?

In a recent article for the Guardian James Lovelock wrote:

“I don’t know if it is too late for humanity to avert a climate catastrophe, but I am sure there is no chance if we continue to treat global heating and the destruction of nature as separate problems.That is the wrongheaded approach of the United Nations, which is about to stage one big global conference for the climate in Glasgow, having just finished a different big global conference for biodiversity in Kunming.This division is as much of a mistake as the error made by universities when they teach chemistry in a different class from biology and physics. It is impossible to understand these subjects in isolation because they are interconnected. The same is true of living organisms that greatly influence the global environment. The composition of the Earth’s atmosphere and the temperature of the surface is actively maintained and regulated by the biosphere, by life, by what the ancient Greeks used to call Gaia.Almost 60 years ago, I suggested our planet self-regulated like a living organism. I called this the Gaia theory, and was later joined by biologist Lynn Margulis, who also espoused this idea. Both of us were roundly criticised by scientists in academia. I was an outsider, an independent scientist, and the mainstream view then was the neo-Darwinist one that life adapts to the environment, not that the relationship also works in the other direction, as we argued. In the years since, we have seen just how much life – especially human life – can affect the environment. Two genocidal acts – suffocation by greenhouse gases and the clearance of the rainforests – have caused changes on a scale not seen in millions of years.Because subjects like astronomy, geology, and meteorology are taught separately in schools and universities, few people are aware of the natural forces affecting the Earth’s surface temperature.For billions of years the Earth’s surface temperature has been determined mainly by the radiant heat coming from the sun. This energy increased over time because it is the nature of stars like the sun to increase their heat output as they grow older. But temperatures on Earth remained relatively stable thanks to Gaia: forests, oceans and other elements in the the Earth’s regulating system, which kept the surface temperature fairly constant and near optimal for life.The global warming that concerns all of us, and which will be discussed this week in Glasgow, includes a great deal of extra heating that comes as a consequence of extracting and burning fossil fuels since about the middle of the 19th century. That releases methane, carbon dioxide and other gases into the atmosphere. They absorb radiant heat and stop it escaping from Earth. This is what causes global warming.The amount of global warming depends hugely on the properties of water. When cold ice forms, much of it is white snow. This reflects the sunlight back to space and is cooling. But when it is warm, the water vapour in the air is a powerful greenhouse gas that makes it warmer still.Much of the confusion over global heating comes about because of the huge quantities of heat needed to change the state of water. Few are aware that to melt a gram of ice takes 80 calories, enough heat to raise the temperature of 1ml of water to 80C. Try an ice cube in your boiling hot tea.Then imagine how much heat was needed to melt large areas of the polar ice cap during the recent summer and how much hotter the world would have been if the ice had not been there. No wonder there is confusion about whether there is global heating or not.Warnings that once seemed like the doom scenarios of science fiction are now coming to pass. We are entering into a heat age in which the temperature and sea levels will be rising decade by decade until the world becomes unrecognisable. We could also be in for more surprises. Nature is non-linear and unpredictable, never more than at a time of transition.Lowering these risks and adapting to those we can no longer avoid will require a mobilisation of resources on the scale of a war economy. We have no choice but to reduce the burning of fossil fuels or face even worse consequences.But we should also not become over-reliant on renewable power, which will leave us with an energy gap. We need to build more nuclear power stations to overcome that, though the greens will first have to get over their overblown fears of radiation.The dangers are nowhere near as bad as they are often painted. I’ve travelled millions of miles by air, and all that time I have been exposed to levels of radiation that are ten times as great as at ground level. The dangers are exaggerated.We also need to address the problem of overpopulation and to urgently halt the destruction of tropical forests. Most of all, we need to look at the world in a holistic way.I am not hopeful of a positive outcome at Cop26, knowing who is participating. I was not invited to Glasgow, though that is hardly a surprise. As well as being 102 years old, I am an independent scientist, and the university academics have never been comfortable with that.But my fellow humans must learn to live in partnership with the Earth, otherwise the rest of creation will, as part of Gaia, unconsciously move the Earth to a new state in which humans may no longer be welcome. The virus, Covid-19, may well have been one negative feedback. Gaia will try harder next time with something even nastier.

James Lovelock is the originator of Gaia theory and the author, most recently, of Novascene. This op-ed was told to Jonathan Watts, the Guardian’s global environment editor “

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sezja · 3 years

Text

Conversation

Or: An excerpt from that fic I swear I’m going to finish someday

“Why did you join the Gods’ Quiver?”

“Taking an interest in my life all of a sudden?” Guydelot was hard at work fletching arrows, taking advantage of the Dravanian forest’s ample supply of chocobo feathers to resupply. He spared Sanson, who stood over him, only the merest glance, before returning to his task.

Sanson sighed. “You’re skilled as an archer, but you’re ill-inclined toward the rigors of duty. Why not remain a hunter?” He gestured toward a pair of hunters who’d strolled into Tailfeather, laughing merrily and boasting loudly about the day’s catch: a spirited young chocobo, by the sound of it, sure to fetch a fine price in Ishgard. Bragging. Cheerful camaraderie. “Did you not enjoy it?”

“I liked it well enough.” Deft with years of practice, Guydelot managed to work without pause, giving Sanson ample time to admire the skill and sureness of each movement: the man had wonderful hands, be they fletching arrows or strumming a harp. “But you’re wrong if you think there’s no duty there, Sanson the Stiff. There’s rules. Everybody’s got a role to play, and if you mess yours up, you might go hungry.”

“Is that why you gave it up?”

“I gave it up because I wanted to join the Gods’ Quiver.”

Sanson heaved a frustrated sigh. “But why did-”

“Why’s it matter?” Guydelot shrugged, all his attention on his task, sacrificing little for Sanson.

Sanson wanted to snap the arrows over his knee and secure the bard’s attention once and for all… but then, like as not, they’d have need of those arrows soon. It was suspicious, the hunters of Tailfeather seemed to believe, that Sylviel should be gone for more than a couple of days at a time - and they were fast approaching a week since Sanson and Guydelot had arrived.

“It matters because you are skilled, yet you don’t seem eager to apply yourself,” he said instead, settling himself down on the ground beside his partner (and ignoring the frown this earned him). “So why join their ranks in the first place, when you clearly find yourself unwilling to do what you must to rise through those ranks? Why join at all when you don’t enjoy the work?”

“Who says I don’t enjoy it?”

“Your behavior says it,” Sanson retorted. “Quite clearly. You shirk every duty-”

“Aye, shirk duty, disrespect for authority, general nuisance; anything else you didn’t cover when we met?” Guydelot gave him an irritated glance, then returned his focus to the arrows. “Why’d you join the Adders?”

“To serve Gridania,” he replied promptly, which earned a snort of derision from Guydelot. “What?”

“‘To serve Gridania,’” Guydelot parroted, flicking a stray bit of feather at him. “What’s serving Gridania about the Twin Adders? You’re just answering to a bunch of bastards in fancy hats who think they know what’s best for everyone. But mayhap that’s just my flagrant disrespect for authority, eh?”

“It certainly is.” Sanson flicked the bit of feather back, biting back a smile when it landed squarely on Guydelot’s nose, leaving the man swatting at his own face. “But why did you-”

“Gods, you’re like a bandersnatch with a bone.”

“I am persistent.” After all, persistence had earned him the chance to seek out the Ballad of Oblivion. Sanson was prepared to regard it as one of his best traits.

“You’re a nagging-” Guydelot sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I knew I was good at what I did. I wanted to do something with it.” A shrug. “Then it was all just drills and patrols and tiresome errands, putting arrows in Ixal, listening to bastards giving orders with their heads square up their arses.”

“So you stopped trying.”

“So I stopped caring, ‘til I heard Jehantel performing.” The bard’s eyes softened with memory in a way that made Sanson’s heart stutter, and he struggled to school his face to stillness - not that it mattered; Guydelot’s thoughts were clearly elsewhere. “And I thought, hells, I could do that. Stir men’s hearts on the battlefield, rouse flagging spirits? I could do that.”

And you’re good at it. Why can’t you see how much better you could be? “But training with Jehantel doesn’t seem to have improved your work ethic.”

Guydelot’s expression soured. “Aye, well, I ended up here, didn’t I? You’re right: a fat lot of good it’s done me so far.”

Sanson relinquished the conversation with a sigh, retreating to his journal and leaving Guydelot to his arrows. Surely Master Sylviel would return soon, hopefully bearing the answers to their search… and then he and Guydelot could go their separate ways, hopefully no longer at one another’s throats - and Guydelot’s horrendously wasted potential would no longer be any of Sanson’s concern.

#sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #ffxiv #my writing #i'm really weak for how sanson's clearly had a change of heart about guydelot by the time they get to tailfeather #but guydelot's so sick of his shit by that point that he fails to notice it #so there's a lot of miscommunication and a lot of misreading each other #until it finally blows up with guydelot just storming out and sanson just 'oh no what have i done'

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Note

could we mayhaps see chris as he just starts to get comfortable. tentatively interacting with people in the house for the first time, antoni being a nice roommate and helping him feel comfortable. jake trying to hold in his excitement that chris is properly coming out of his shell and interracting🥺👉🏻👈🏻

CW: Referenced drugging, neurodivergent character trying to “pass”, VERY vague referenced to past noncon, conditioned internal dehumanization/conditioned behaviors

Takes place directly after Chris Gets a Name

Tagging Chris’s crew: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @stxckfxck , @slaintetowhump, @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout

“Hey, Chris, you’re up.”

Oh, he forgot that his name is different now, that he chose one for himself. It felt like part of the fever, he hadn’t been sure if he actually chose a new name or if he just made that up.

“Chris,” He repeats, knowing he sounds like a parrot, and his eyes trail over to the curtains over the kitchen windows, gingham curtains, old-fashioned and homey like a family on TV that he watches with Sir some evenings, curled up with him, warm beneath Sir’s blankets and feeling perfectly, truly cared for when the games are over and he’s won or he’s lost and he takes the pill and is allowed just to be quiet and still and good and not scared-

“My name... is Chris, now.”

“Yeah, and it’s a good name. Everyone, this is Chris.”

He has met all these people at the table, but they look at him as though they’ve never seen him before, and he cringes back and away from their murmured greetings.

The tall blond man, Jake - who isn’t an owner, Chris understands that now, and he’s wearing a t-shirt plaid sleep pants - is sitting at the table and the boy’s eyes go immediately to the plates of biscuits with white gravy layered over the top, the smell of frying sausage heavy in the air in the kitchen, although an open window lets in a soft breeze and the scent of lilacs from a bush at the house next door.

The boy feels his stomach flip, uncomfortably unsettled. Miss Nancy smells like lilacs and Sir likes biscuits and gravy, has them every morning once per week, the boy thinks of days in the food Sir eats. Biscuits Day, Omelette Day, Cheese Danish Day.

Is it Biscuit Day here?

The others are at the table, too - not the older woman with brown hair, the boy could hear her talking to someone up in the attic when he first left the room.

He felt like standing for the first time in days, since he’d gotten so sick and hidden in the storage room. His legs wobbled, weak and weary, underneath him as he made his way downstairs but now, leaning against the doorframe and wrapped in a big fluffy blanket that smells like some man’s cologne but not Sir’s, he feels better.

“D’you want to sit?” Jake gestures at the table. There is one chair empty, the lady’s chair, but the other seats are taken by the other ones like him.

Not like him at all.

There’s one girl with a ponytail, wearing a big sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking at him with nervous wide eyes that seem a little too big for her face. The other girl has short dark hair in a bob and barely looks at him at all. There’s a boy, too, older than he is (they’re all older than you are) who has dark hair mussed-up and shadowed, faintly feline eyes that turn up at the corners just a little, a hint of a smile on his face. He looks at the boy directly, and gives a little wave with his free hand.

The boy lifts his arm just enough to give a wave back, then drops it again, curling himself even more tightly up in the blanket.

“Do I... want to... sit?” He paces his words, careful and calm, just like training. Try to figure out the expectations and deliver on them. “Should I...” He hesitates, swallowing hard. “In your... lap, Sir?”

The dark-haired girl chokes on her food and jerks forward, coughing into one hand, while Ponytail pats her on the back, whispers something into her ear. Both of them look back up at him, briefly, and Chris can’t tell if they hate him or pity him but their eyes are shuttered closed and he cringes away, ready to run back upstairs to the bedroom and the stuffed puppy he’s been petting while he stares out the window and wonders if he’ll be allowed outside, sometimes, here.

Jake clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh... no, man. No, you don’t... no. We’re not like that.”

“You will never be expected to do that here,” The other Box Boy says, his eyes on Chris’s, warm and inviting. “Jake is offering for you to sit in the chair.” His voice is low and deep, his words soft and slow and gentle.

They sink into Chris’s mind like the feeling of petting a rabbit’s ears, and he takes one step forward and then another.

“In the... chair?” He looks around at them all, trying to understand. “But, but, but but but I’m not allowed-” He flinches-

silence is better than stammering, darlin’

-but when he looks back up no one looks angry, just... curious, still. Maybe nervous. Are they nervous, too? Chris is nervous, he doesn’t know what any of this means or who to be, here, how to be anything but what he’s always been, the only thing he remembers how to be.

It’s been days since he had a pill and his mind feels normal again, running on all his tracks, and he notices that the sausage gravy looks heavily peppered at the same time he thinks that Jake has lots of muscles and the girls are very pretty but one has a scar over her lip and eyebrow and the other one’s hands are shaking and are they shaking because of him?

“You are allowed to sit wherever you please,” The other Box Boy says, gently. “Whenever you want to sit there. There is no allowed, here.”

Chris’s eyes skip from him to the girls, who give him small soothing smiles, and then to Jake, who has pushed the chair out a little in an obvious invitation. Jake feels safe, he feels like maybe a good kind of handler, like he will be the one to teach Chris the things he needs to know and won’t even have to hurt him to do it.

“I will... I will sit in the, the chair,” Chris says slowly, and moves into the room in a shuffle-step with the blanket still pulled tightly around himself. It’s a light blue downy fluff blanket that puffs out like the puffy vest Sir likes to wear on cold days - Southern affectation, I admit you can take the man out of the South but you’ll never get the South out of the man whispers his soft slick voice in the back of Chris’s mind - and he settles into the chair despite the bone-deep urge to slip to his knees, because he doesn’t get to use a chair unless it’s Sir’s.

“Chris,” Jake says, leaning over to squeeze his shoulder, and Chris closes his eyes at the brief warm touch that feels so good, so right. “You know I’m Jake. You’ve heard the other’s names but i’m guessing you probably forgot... this is Krista-”

Ponytail smiles at him, a little more warmly this time. Her eyes roam over his face and whatever she sees makes her smile even warmer. Chris had expected her to go cold. The other ones never like the ones like him. He doesn’t know that he’s ever met one before but it doesn’t matter, they all know that, they always tell you don’t even bother, they’ll all hate you in the end.

But Krista only smiles at him and says softly, “Hi, Chris.”

She’s so pretty, with the ponytail that swings over her neck and her wide, wide eyes. He wants almost to kiss her, but he doesn’t want to kiss her at all.

What you want is no longer relevant. What are your options now?

Be g-good, or... or be in trouble.

He can kiss her, if he needs to. He can be good.

“H-hello,” He whispers back. Jake gets up and Chris flinches at the sound the chair makes as it scrapes along the kitchen floor. He still feels a little shivery around the edges, like the fever wants to come back and is lying in wait. He’s tired and weak and it feels like one of the nights Sir plays games, except he feels like they don’t do that, here.

He’s in a shelter. This is a safe place for escaped pets, he tries to remind himself of what he was told when they brought him inside. They call him a rescue, now, not a pet.

“And I’m Leila,” The girl with short dark hair speaks next, leaning over to catch Chris’s eye. Her smile is more impish than Ponytail’s, and he could definitely kiss her, too, but there’s also a distance, there. She seems... cautious of him. Or maybe of everyone. “All our names we pick ourselves. I like yours.”

“I am Antoni,” The other Box Boy says, smiling calmly at him. “Are you hungry, Chris? Jake made us breakfast.”

Chris swallows, hard, looking around at the plates of biscuits and gravy. He can almost feel Sir’s fingers wiping a bit of gravy from the corner of his mouth. “Can, can I please...” He swallows, hard.

Calm. Quiet. Careful. Slow.

“Can I... please just have something else?”

There’s a silence, as the three other ones stare at him, and Jake is quiet by the stove. Then, with nothing but the same genial welcome in his voice, Jake says brightly, “We have Pop Tarts, would you like those? It’s just strawberry, but Leila likes them, so Nat keeps them on hand.”

“What... what’s a Pop... Pop Tart?” Chris asks, hesitantly, then winces. Is this something he should have known? Will he be in trouble?

Leila’s eyes light up. “Oh, God, you don’t remember them. Oh, Jake, give him one of mine!” She looks at Chris, right at him, and he feels the urge to cringe away and lean closer, both at once. “You have to-... you’re going to love Pop Tarts, I promise!”

“‘Love’ might be a strong word...” Antoni murmurs, and Krista shushes him with a little giggle.

Chris discovers himself smiling, a little, as Jake opens a little rectangular foil package and lays what looks like icing-covered sprinkle bread in front of him. He picks it up - it feels hard to the touch, like it’s overcooked, but all of them are watching him, now.

Sir has never fed him anything like this.

“Go ahead, man,” Jake says brightly. “Take a bite.” He drops back down into his seat, and Chris looks at him - strong and tall and muscular and nice-looking - and he thinks, I could be so good for you.

Chris picks up the thing and puts it in his mouth, takes a bite and chews. His eyes widen at a sudden burst of nearly chemical oversweet flavor, the crunch of icing and chewy bread part and then a kind of sweet filling like jam but it doesn’t taste like any jam Chris has ever had before. He chews and chews, it sticks to his tongue a little, but finally he swallows it down and stares at it, looking at the center full of a deep red something-or-other. It does look like jam...

Then he puts it back in his mouth and takes another bite.

“See, I told you he’d like Pop Tarts,” Leila says, almost smugly.

“No, you told him he would like Pop Tarts,” Antoni answers, humor lacing his voice. “And so he does.”

“You owe me, Ant.”

“We did not make a bet!”

“I’ll tell Nat to buy some more,” Jake interrupts, and Chris looks over at him and smiles around his mouthful, and Jake smiles back. Chris pulls his feet up to sit cross-legged in the chair, blanket tight around him, and starts to tap on his stomach hidden by the blanket where none of them can see to stop him.

“I, I, I I-I feel better,” He says after he swallows.

No one says anything about his words.

“I feel so much better.”

He really, really does.

#trauma recovery #trauma recovery whump #conditioned #conditioning #pet whump #memory loss #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #Antoni Sings Lullabies #Leila the Mermaid Girl #Krista Girl #recovering whumpee #oliver branch is gross #all comfort no hurt #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #tw: implied/referenced drugging

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