Tumgik
#—you have like. nothing to gain from this
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I Heard Your Voice in a Dream
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Reader’s village in the Spring Court is destroyed by Hybern (F U Tampon), and she is on her own until Azriel finds her. She feels instantly connected to him, but is not sure why, until one morning when he tells her everything.
(Also my first attempt at duel POV)
Warnings: a smutty ending
Word Count: 6.4k
You were running for your life when Azriel found you. 
After the High Lord of the Spring Court made a deal with the devil to bring back his love that fled from him, life looked much different for you. 
Hybern had attacked your village, destroyed your home and everything you had ever known. Your High Lord was nowhere to be found. Most of the people you knew didn’t make it out. Somehow, you had, but you couldn’t help but wonder… at what cost?
You spent your time wandering the endless green spring, not sure what to do. You had missed the evacuation. Nobody knew you were injured or where you were. By the time you were well enough to walk, you were alone. 
The panic was made worse by the fact that you knew what was in these lands -- monsters that you had no hope of beating should they target you. 
And eventually, they did target you. 
You weren’t sure what kind of creature it was -- just knew that those teeth could rip you to shreds and you wouldn’t be able to outrun it for long. 
But you did run, because what other choice did you have? You ran and ran, not daring to look back. You could hear it gaining on you with every step, until you felt, more than heard, the ground shaking beneath you. 
Suddenly, it was silent, the terrible feet of the monster no longer sounding behind you. You risked a glance back, and saw who must have been a warrior, with enormous black wings spread behind him, wiping off his bloody blade on the grass next to the carcass of the beast.
You stopped running, turning around slowly, studying him as he looked up at you. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen, with dark black hair and a completely stoic face, giving away absolutely nothing about what he was thinking. The hard lines of that face terrified you as much as they intrigued you. You realized you were shaking as he walked toward you slowly, as if approaching an injured animal. He was wearing some kind of armor -- all black, with gleaming, glowing circles attached to several points of his body. There were dark tendrils of what looked like smoke circling his arms, his hands. He sheathed his gleaming black blade as he approached you. 
He held his hands out, severely scarred, you noticed, palms facing you as he got closer. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” His deep, commanding voice seemed to echo through the now quiet woods.
You couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t bring your voice to speak.
“What’s your name?” he said softly when he stopped a few feet from you.
You told him, your voice barely above a whisper.
The warrior repeated your name quietly, his hazel eyes softening, then said “I’m Azriel. Are you hurt?”
“I-- I don’t think so.”
Azriel nodded, his eyes scanning your body, as if to confirm it. “What are you doing out here alone?”
You couldn’t help but think that the soft, gentle voice he was now using with you was such a juxtaposition to the fierceness of his armor, his no doubt rock solid body, his massive wings. “I have nowhere to go,” you finally choked out.
His brow furrowed, his eyes swimming with emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Your family?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. The expression on your face seemed to say enough. His jaw tightened as he swallowed.
“Your home?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Destroyed,” you whispered.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, his expression softening as he studied your face. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head, but you couldn’t imagine what he was contemplating. 
“Thank you,” you croaked out eventually. “For saving my life.”
You turned to go, not wanting to inconvenience him further, but his hand grasped your wrist. As you turned around, you noticed his demeanor had completely changed. He staggered back a step, still holding onto you, pulling you forward a bit. Where before he was confident and calming, his eyes were now wide, his mouth open in what could only be shock.
“What is it?” you asked.
Azriel shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. “Come with me.”
You didn’t try to hide your surprise. “You don’t have to do that, I’ll manage.”
He moved his grip from your wrist to your hand, holding it carefully in his, as he gazed at your face, his eyes pleading. “You won’t survive out here. My home -- it’s safe. You’ll be safe.”
Contemplating this, you tried to weigh your options. You knew he was right, that you wouldn’t make it for much longer alone out here. You could try to make it to another court, but how long would that take? And what would happen to you if you got there? But, his home, the one he claimed was safe… you had never seen anyone like him before. Never seen anyone as intimidating. Finally, you asked. “Who… are you?”
His cheeks dusted red as he seemed to grapple for the right words. “I work for the High Lord of the Night Court,” he said carefully.
Unconsciously, you took a step back, pulling your hand from his grasp.
Azriel’s eyes flared. If you didn’t know better you would think it was panic. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice steady despite his body language.
“The Night Court?” you felt your heart beating faster. Why did your savior have to be from there, of all places? The only thing worse than these woods would be the Court of Nightmares, where not just the High Lord, but the people were brutal and malicious.
“If you just saw it, you would understand,” he said, taking a careful step towards you again. “I will keep you safe, I swear it.” His eyes remained pleading in a way that you couldn’t comprehend.
“Why?” you asked, trying to make sense of this warrior before you. “Why do you care so much?”
He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. Finally, he said with all the sincerity in the world, “I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you here.”
You sighed, trying to think. As if reading your thoughts he said, “You either trust me or be eaten by something out here.”
He was right. You knew he was. Still, you couldn’t stop the fear that lodged in your throat as you turned back to him and said resignedly, “Okay. Take me with you.”
---
Azriel tried to keep his breathing steady as the two of you made it to the townhouse in Velaris. He knew he would have a lot of explaining to do. 
He watched your eyes widen as you took in the sight around you. Children laughing, people walking and talking, seemingly without a care in the world. A bustling city nestled between the mountains of the Night Court. 
“Where… are we?” you asked. Your voice had not yet risen to a normal volume in the short time that he had known you.
Azriel didn’t know how much to tell you. He would likely already be in hot water just for bringing you here. “The Night Court,” he said, trying to keep his voice bland. “Sort of.”
You gaped at him. 
Azriel winced as you neared the front door. “I hate to do this. But, I need you to wait out here.”
Your eyes only widened. “You’re going to leave me?” 
His heart cracked a bit at your words. “It should only be a few minutes. I told you, it’s safe here.”
You scowled, crossing your arms, but finally said, “Okay.”
Azriel nodded once, took a deep breath, and walked inside. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhysand were all in the living room. Rhys was laughing at something Feyre said. All eyes looked to you as you stepped into the threshold. 
“You’re back early,” Rhys said.
“I need to talk to you,” Azriel said to Rhysand, his voice sounding off, even to his own ears. “Alone.”
The others looked between the two of you curiously. Rhysand rose, masking his surprise, and gestured to his study.
When they were alone, Azriel didn’t know what to say, how to start. Finally, Rhysand had to say “What’s going on, Az?”
Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “When I got to the Spring Court, there was a woman. Running through the woods, from a bogge.”
“Okay,” Rhys drawled.
“I saved her, obviously. But, Rhys, you should have seen her. She was terrified and alone. I think she’s from the village that Hybern attacked.” 
Rhysand raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Azriel held his gaze. “She’s my mate, Rhys.”
The High Lord swore. “You brought her here, didn’t you?”
“What was I supposed to do? She would’ve died out there.”
Rhysand nodded, processing the information. “It was a risk, bringing her here.”
“I know it was,” Azriel said, unwilling to apologize, not for saving his mate’s life.
Despite the danger Azriel had put them in, Rhysand smiled at his brother. “You found your mate.”
Azriel nodded. He hadn’t really processed the information yet.
“Does she know?” Rhys asked.
“No. She’s going through enough right now.”
Rhysand nodded again. “Just be careful. You know how it went when Feyre found out before I told her.”
“I know.” 
“So,” Rhys said, leaning against his desk. “I guess we let her stay in the House of Wind. She can find her own place later, if she wants.”
Azriel breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Really.” 
---
True to his word, Azriel was back a few minutes later. You were still shocked, trying to make sense of the day. How could this place be a part of the Night Court?
“I can take you to your room now, if you’re ready,” he said by way of greeting. 
“My room?” What, in his house? 
“Unless you want a tour of the city first? I figured you’d be tired,” he said naturally, as if he were speaking about the weather. 
You couldn’t help but gawk at him. “I get a room?”
“Yes,” he said, as if it were obvious.
“Okay,” you said cautiously. “Sure, let’s go to… my room.”
He cleared his throat, taking a tentative step toward you. “We’ll have to fly.”
You just blinked at him. Surely, he didn’t mean…?
He motioned toward you. “May I?”
Resolved, you said, “At this point, why not?” 
The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before carefully, he swept you up in his arms, glancing at your face before flapping his mighty wings, taking the two of you up over the city, toward a large mountain.
You clung to him, your stomach twisting in knots, until he landed gently on a balcony on the top of the mountain.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he set you on the ground.
You nodded, looking past him into the formal dining room inside. “Where are we?”
“This is one of the High Lord’s residences in the city. He doesn’t really stay here with us,” he said, opening the door and leading you inside. 
“Us?”
“Me and a few others that you’ll meet. His inner circle.”
Again, you felt that fear spike through your body. The High Lord of the Night Court. His inner circle. What had you gotten yourself into?
As if sensing your fear, he stopped and faced you, looking at you intently. “The stories you’ve heard… they’re not real. At least, not in the context that you think.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to form a response. But, surprisingly, you wanted to trust him, this man who saved your life. 
When he realized that you weren’t going to say anything, he cocked his head, motioning for you to follow him through the house. You silently obeyed, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty hallways. 
Finally, he stopped before a room, shouldering the door open and gesturing for you to step inside first. It was more lavish than any room you’d seen in your village in the Spring Court. The four poster bed was huge in the center of the room. To the right was a sitting area with two chairs and a couch, cozy looking rugs, and through an open door you could see a washroom. It was more inviting than you had expected. 
“Will this be alright?” Azriel asked as you surveyed the room.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, this should be just fine.”
He smiled faintly. “I’m just a few doors down, if you need anything.”
“You’re leaving?” you asked, for the second time that day.
Hesitating by the door, he said, “I thought you’d like some time to unwind. I imagine it’s been quite a day for you.”
You nodded, but couldn’t help the pang you felt at being left alone again. Azriel was starting to feel like all you had in the world. 
After studying you for a beat, he said, “I can come back in an hour? Give you some time to settle in?”
You couldn’t stop the small smi']le that tugged at your lips. “Okay.”
---
An hour later, Azriel was knocking on your door, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. This morning, he was leaving for the Spring Court to check on how Tamlin had been handling things, and now his mate was staying a few doors down, with no idea where she was or anything about him. 
The breath was knocked right out of him as you opened the door. You had changed into leggings and a sweater, the shape of your legs on full display, your hair, slightly damp, was falling loose in ringlets over your shoulders. 
An angel, he thought. You looked like an angel. 
“I’m glad you gave me that hour,” you admitted, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel felt faint. “I haven’t had a real bath in ages.”
Clarity struck his brain again at the reminder of what you had been through, how you had been living since the attack on your home. His heart ached for you. He wanted to rip Hybern apart with his bare hands.
“Do you want the tour?” he asked, dumbly, trying to stomp down his emotions,
You agreed, and he led you through the halls, the tug in his chest dazing him. He ached to reach for your hand, to bring your body into his. How had Rhys endured all that time with Feyre, feeling like this?
As you walked through the house, you started asking questions, and Azriel answered to the best of his ability. He told you about Velaris, how secret it was, why it had been kept a secret. The Court of Nightmares, the lies they had to spin. He explained that he was the Night Court’s spymaster, explained his shadows, his shadowsinger abilities, his wings. He didn’t give a ton of details, not wanting to overwhelm you, but not wanting to lie either.
You told him of your past, too. Of your life with your family before Hybern, your cottage, your friends. None of them had survived the attack. Azriel clenched his fists as you spoke, marveling at how kind and reserved you were, despite the horrors that you had been through.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the direction of the dining room and he winced. He would have to bring you to dinner, to face the entire group. Azriel knew that Rhys had relayed the information by now about his… guest. That was why they had all insisted on coming to dinner, to scope you out.
He felt guilty about keeping you out of the loop, that everyone would know that you were his mate. But you knew how much pressure could be put on females to give into their mates. He would never do that to you, he wanted you to have a choice. 
He would just have to wait until you were settled, until you knew that you were safe with him. 
You looked at him questioningly, and he simply said, “Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner.” 
“Dinner…” you trailed off, a question in your eyes.
“With everyone. Yeah.”
Your eyes widened and he couldn’t help himself. He took your hand in his like he did in the woods, what had made the bond snap into place. “It’ll be okay. They’re good people.”
You looked skeptical, but nodded, moving a bit closer to him. He swore he felt his heart miss a beat. 
Azriel led you to the dining room, still holding your hand. At the threshold of the room, you dropped his hand and stood behind him, peaking around his shoulder at the loud group. He could tell you were frightened, and wanted desperately to hold you, to take the fear away.
He cleared his throat, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked at his friends sternly, willing them to behave, at least for tonight, before he introduced you to them. 
You remained behind him, creeping out the littlest bit, placing your hand gently on his bicep. He looked back at you, trying to calm you down like he had in the woods. 
“Come on,” he murmured, lightly placing his hand on your arm and guiding you to your seat. You followed, your body taut. 
Azriel introduced you to Cassian, Mor, Elain, Nesta, and Amren. You stayed silent, wide eyed, no doubt realizing the power in the people around you. Finally, he gestured to Rhys and Feyre. “And this is the High Lord and Lady.”
Your eyes widened further then, taking in Feyre. “High Lady,” you murmured, in awe. 
Right. The High Lady. Feyre was the one who had tore the Spring Court apart from the inside out. Azriel hadn’t even thought of that, and watched your reaction. 
Feyre smiled at you kindly and Rhys looked extremely proud. “Honestly, that… that’s amazing. A High Lady,” you repeated. Azriel let out the breath he was holding.
“We sure think so,” Rhys smirked, his eyes sliding warmly to Feyre.
Azriel could feel some of the tension leave your body, and he nearly slumped with relief. 
Your reaction seemed to please his friends, too. Azriel couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. 
Throughout the course of dinner, you had remained silent, your doe eyes taking in everything before you. Azriel was hyper aware of you beside him, trying to sense your every reaction. 
After dinner, Azriel walked you back to your room, pausing at the door. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“I think I’m okay,” you said. “It’s not what I expected.”
Azriel nodded. “In a good way?”
You smiled lightly up at him. He nearly fell over. “Everyone seems… normal. Like a family.”
Azriel smiled faintly. “They are. We are a family.”
Studying his face, you stayed silent for a moment. “Thank you,” you whispered.
He squeezed your shoulder gently, feeling his heart constrict at your vulnerability. “Sleep well. Come get me if you need anything, okay?”
You nodded, still smiling slightly as you went inside and gently closed the door behind you.
---
Despite your exhaustion, you lay awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, your mind spinning. A family. That’s what this was, all of these powerful fae in one room, the mightiest warriors, the most fearsome High Lord… talking and teasing and laughing at dinner. 
You had felt Azriel’s eyes on you, gauging your reactions. 
Azriel. He was what was truly keeping you up, you thought. The most beautiful man with the scarred hands and the siphons, you had learned, that helped him harness his unbelievable power, the apparently legendary blade at his side. And yet, the way he watched you, the way his voice changed when he spoke to you…
You couldn’t help but trust him, feeling safe next to him. He had saved your life, after all. It was that thought that was wisping through your mind as you finally drifted off to sleep. 
---
The first night in your new bed, you had slept through the night once you were finally able to sleep, too exhausted from the events of the day to be chased by monsters in your dreams. 
The second night was a different story. 
You didn’t even realize you had been screaming until scarred hands were shaking you awake, hazel eyes so close to yours, full of worry and protectiveness, saying your name over and over until your eyes cleared. 
Azriel’s fingers were rubbing soothing circles on your shoulders. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It was just a dream,” he said softly, cupping your cheek in his rough hand when you had stopped trembling.
“I’m sorry,” you croaked, tears springing to your eyes. 
He gently wiped the tears away with his thumb, not taking his eyes off you for a second. “For what?” his voice was husky from sleep.
“Waking you,” you whispered, captivated by his hands on you, his eyes swimming with emotion. 
“Don’t be sorry,” he said gently, his thumb still absently stroking your cheek. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, not trusting your voice to be audible enough for him to hear.
“Do you want -- I can stay. If you want. Until you fall back to sleep,” he said hesitantly. You hadn’t known him long, but you imagined it was rare for him to stumble over his words like this.
“You don’t have to do that,” you said quietly, though you felt your heart swell at the offer. “I appreciate it, but… I’m sure the spymaster needs sleep.”
The corner of his mouth turned up into a faint smile as he pulled back from you, settling in the armchair against the wall. “I’m used to staying up because I’m the spymaster,” he said, humor lining his voice.
“You’ve already done so much for me--”
His voice was still soft, but added a commanding edge as he cut you off. “Sleep, my lady. I don’t mind.”
You considered protesting again, but knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere. And honestly… it did make you feel better to have his comforting presence in the room, chasing away all of your invisible demons.
---
It didn’t take long for your breathing to go steady, lost in a deep sleep. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to leave you yet, though. 
The sound of your terrified shrieks ran over and over in his mind. He had been protective of people before, of course, but this. The terror he could feel radiating off of you, the tears streaming down your face, the look in your eyes before you realized where you were… his hands gripped the armrests so tightly that he worried you might not have a chair in your room tomorrow. 
He focused on you now: your peaceful face, your hair draped across the pillow, your breathing even. It calmed him down slightly, but not enough.
Azriel wanted to stay. Just to be sure that you were alright, to ensure that he would be able to stop the nightmares before they escalated this time, but he did not want to invade your privacy. He knew that you probably wouldn’t be happy to find him still sitting there in the morning. 
So, after you had been sleeping peacefully for quite some time, he dragged himself out of the chair and silently went to his own room, where he could not sleep at all, those screams rattling around in his mind.
---
Azriel stayed by your side for weeks after you arrived in the Night Court, only leaving, seemingly, when he absolutely had to. The two of you would relax in the library, raid the kitchen, wander around the streets in Velaris that seemed endless to you, in the best way. Despite everything that you had heard of the Night Court and its inhabitants, you were starting to feel at home there. Though you still were extremely intimidated by everyone except Azriel, and couldn’t imagine spending time with any one of them if he wasn’t present. 
Though you were starting to adjust to your new life, you continued to wake Azriel so consistently with your nightmares that you wondered if you should just offer to let him sleep next to you. Of course, you knew you couldn’t possibly do that. Your cheeks flushed at just the thought. Guilt gnawed at you though, for being the reason for his lack of sleep, so much so that you offered to switch rooms, somewhere further from him, but he would hear none of it. Nearly every night he came into your room, shaking you awake, then soothing you back to sleep. You couldn’t imagine how he was functioning on so little rest.
One night was particularly bad. You dreamt of the attack on your village, the bloodshed you saw, the terror you felt. You knew Azriel could sense that it was worse than usual, as he wouldn’t take his soothing hands from your arms until you had stopped trembling, which took significantly longer than it normally did. His eyes were filled with more worry than you had seen before, and when he pulled away from you, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and gently grabbing his wrist. 
His eyes widened a bit in surprise as he turned back to face you, but he said nothing. 
“Can you come here?” Your quiet voice cracked on the last word and his jaw ticked at the sound. 
He approached you slowly, like he didn’t want to do the wrong thing. “What can I do?” he murmured. 
“Can you -- I mean, would it be too weird…” you flushed, unable to get the words out.
Comprehension flooded his expression and you were so embarrassed that you wanted to take it all back, but then his eyes softened with so much warmth that you wanted to cry. “You want me to lay with you for a bit?”
You bit your lip. “Would you?”
The ghost of a smile. Your heart melted.
You scooched over to the far side of the bed before he settled into next to you, agonizingly slowly. He faced you, propping his cheek on his fist. “Is this okay?”
You could only nod, concealing half your face with your sheets in an attempt to hide how red your cheeks had no doubt become. The heat radiated off his body, his shadows nowhere to be found in the dim light. 
He smiled faintly as you looked at him. He murmured, “you have to close your eyes to sleep, you know.”
More heat rose to your cheeks. “You could sleep too. You don’t have to stay up and guard me.”
His smile grew. “Isn’t that literally what I’m here for?”
“You’re here for…” you contemplated how much you should tell him. “Your comforting presence,” you finally said. 
“You find my presence comforting?�� he said, his voice losing that teasing note he had been using moments before.
“Of course I do,” you said, slightly mesmerized by those hazel eyes that rarely left yours.
His expression was unreadable as he studied you for another moment before laying down and murmuring, “Go to sleep.”
So, you did.
---
Azriel could not sleep.
His mate. His mate, who flooded his thoughts day in and day out, whose tug on him drove him mad every waking moment, was in bed with him. And she had no idea what she was. Or what he desperately wanted to do to her.
Your comforting presence. 
The words drifted around his mind ceaselessly. He was willing to bet that his mate was one of the only people who would ever feel that way. Most people feared him, or were at least wary of the near-silent shadowsinger.
But, his mate… 
Azriel’s eyes whipped to you as your breathing changed, ready to wake you up again if need be. He watched the rise and fall of your chest carefully, before it evened out again and he relaxed back against the mattress. 
He would have to tell you. Soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this, without having any idea how you felt about him. 
He thought of you, as he always did lately, when he finally drifted off to sleep. 
---
Strong arms were holding you when you awoke. Before you were fully conscious, you snuggled further into the warmth. Mother only knew how long it had been since you had felt that safe. 
It wasn’t until you heard the grumble of a sleepy male behind you that your eyes sprung open and you realized where you were. You were in your bed, faint sunlight shining through the curtains. And the shadowsinger was behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle, your bodies flush together, his breath tickling your neck. 
You were spooning. Azriel was spooning you. 
And he wasn’t awake yet.
Mother above and Cauldron save me.
Should you pull away? You didn’t exactly want to. And it had been so long since he had gotten a good night’s rest, thanks to you. 
Selfishly, you couldn’t bear to leave those arms. So, you did what any rational person would do. You pretended you were still asleep and savored the feeling of the strong warrior’s body pressed against yours.
It was a little while later when he shifted and stiffened. He was awake. 
Carefully, he untangled himself from you, backing up to where he had started the night. After a moment, you turned around, to face him, feigning grogginess. 
He was gazing at you, his expression more open than you had ever seen it. His eyes swimmed with something that looked like longing. Or maybe that’s just what you hoped it was.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. It made your toes curl beneath the sheets.
“I slept really well, actually,” you said, honestly. “Did you get to sleep?”
He nodded, his expression smoothing back to that unreadable blankness. 
“Thank you for staying,” you said softly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Azriel’s eyes softened. “I don’t know what I would do without you, either.”
You sat up a bit, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Me? What do you mean?”
He furrowed his brow, as if he were contemplating whether to tell you something or not. 
“Is something wrong?” you asked. 
He swallowed, his jaw clenched slightly. “There’s something I should tell you.”
You just waited, gazing at that beautiful face.
Taking a deep breath, his eyes not wavering from yours, he said, “That day, when I touched you in the woods, I realized that you’re my mate.”
If you weren’t in your bed, you’re sure you would have fallen over. Your heart started pounding and you sat up fully, now very aware of the thin night clothes you were wearing. 
Azriel sat up too, studying, trying to gauge your reaction. 
“That’s why you were so adamant about bringing me with you,” you said quietly, your mind reeling. 
He nodded. “To be fair, I might have done that anyway, but… yes. I couldn’t leave you there.”
You watched his hazel eyes looking back at you. You had been right before, you could see that now. He wanted you. Longed to be close to you. 
“That’s why I feel so connected to you,” you whispered, noting that tug in your chest that is always leading you to him. “Why you always make me feel so safe.”
His expression flooded with emotion. “You really feel that way around me?”
“Of course I do. Since the very beginning,” you said, inching closer to him, so your legs were almost touching. You couldn’t quite believe it. 
Azriel was your mate. The sweet, mysterious, strong spymaster from the Night Court who saved your life. Who had given you a home.
He was your home, you realized with a start. 
“Are you…happy?” Azriel asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. 
He had been worried, you realized. Worried that you would be upset, or wouldn’t return his feelings. 
Without a word, you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him.
You felt the relief rush through his body as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to him. You settled on his lap, straddling him, deepening the kiss. 
He moaned quietly into your mouth as he slipped his tongue inside and you tightened your grip on him, raking your nails down his back. You felt his hardness pressing against your leg, and flushed at that feeling of being wanted.
His rough hands trailed up your bare thighs, toying with the hem of your nightdress. He stopped kissing you long enough to pull back, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded, smiling, and kissed him fiercely before he slowly pulled the dress up and over your head, his eyes raking your body, now completely bare save for your underwear.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling, before he kissed sensually down your neck. Then lower and lower…
You gasped as he took your nipple in his mouth, biting gently before soothing over the peak with his tongue. 
“Azriel,” you moaned, and he growled in response, tightening an arm around your waist and flipping you onto your back, pressing your body into the mattress with his.
“You never answered my question,” he said, his voice husky, desperate. He toyed with one of your breasts while he devoured your neck, biting and licking and kissing.
“What… what was the question?” you panted, your mind spinning. 
He laughed into your skin, low and sensual, making your back arch. “Are you happy?”
You took your face in his hands, guiding him to look at you. His fingers stopped, his eyes open and yearning. “I’m home, Az. You’re my home. I’ve never been happier.”
His smile lit up his entire face, and he kissed you sweetly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he murmured. 
He continued kissing you slowly and lovingly before the two of you got heated again. You tugged at his shirt and he helped you peel it off. He leaned against you, and you reveled in the feeling of his skin against yours, the feel of his muscled back under your fingers.
Your breath got stuck in your throat as he kissed down your body while sliding your panties down your legs, eventually settling his face in between your legs, his mouth hovering an inch from where you needed him. 
“Az,” you groaned, twining your fingers in his hair. 
You could’ve sworn you heard a soft grunt before his mouth connected with your center and you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. 
“We’re the only ones here, you know,” he said, eyeing you mischievously, sliding a finger into you while his mouth was occupied.
“Meaning?” you panted.
He smirked, sliding another finger into you. You gasped, your back arching off the mattress. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he said, his voice velvet. 
Before you could react, he ducked his head back down, sucking hard on your clit, while pumping his fingers in and out of you. 
You couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you, tugging at his hair, pulling him further into you.
Laughing into your skin, he splayed his free hand over your stomach to stop your squirming and continued devouring you.
Eventually, you needed more. “Azriel?” 
“Hmm?” he hummed against you, his mouth still working.
“If you don’t take your pants off right now, I might die,” you said, your voice breathy.
He finally took his mouth off you, leaning his head back and laughing louder than you’d ever seen from him. The sound was deep, filling the room. It made your heart swell.
Sliding off the bed, his eyes laser focused on you, he said “I suppose I can’t allow that, can I?” 
He held your gaze as he slowly slid his pants off. When he was naked before you, he stalked towards you, his eyes predatory. 
You gulped, trying not to show how surprised you were at the size of him.
Azriel was smirking, more smug than you’d ever seen him. He placed his elbows on either side of your head, hovering over you. “Was there something you wanted?” he teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge.
You scowled at him and he grinned. “You know what I want,” you groaned.
He cocked his head, feigning ignorance. 
“You were so much nicer before,” you mumbled, still trying and failing to pull his muscled body on top of yours. 
Leaning his lips down so they were hovering just over yours, he whispered, “I want you to say it.”
Your mouth fell open. “I can’t,” you squeaked.
He smirked. “I’m your mate. You can tell me anything.”
Sighing, you looked to the ceiling, unable to look him in the eyes. “I want you.”
“You already have me,” he said, lightly nipping at your throat. “What do you want me to do?”
“Azriel.”
He laughed lightly. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to take a guess then.” 
Before you could respond, he slid into you, groaning as he did so. 
He leaned his forehead against yours, forcing you to look up at him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him, saying “Did I guess correctly?”
Biting your lip, you nodded and he grinned. 
“Ready for more?”
You groaned in response, unable to speak.
Slowly, he started moving in and out of you. The two of you moaned in unison.
He groaned, “You feel --”
“So good,” you finished, and he let out a breathy laugh, moving his hips faster. 
Azriel was gazing at you with so much love and affection as he was moving in and out of you, you could barely breathe. You placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled against your mouth, his breathing ragged. 
You couldn’t believe you had eternity to do this with your mate. 
---
Azriel did not leave your bedroom that day. Frankly, he never wanted to leave it again.
He knew he probably could’ve kept going long into the night, but he could tell that you needed a break, so the two of you had settled against the pillows. You were now asleep, your head on his chest, your fingers lightly gripping his waist. 
His heart swelled as he lightly ran his fingers through your hair, savoring the feeling of being in love and having you close to him. 
He never wanted to let go.
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marauroon · 2 days
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congrats on another new blog for a new fandom 🤭
as a blog-warming request, can we add another fic to the best friend James with no boundaries pile???
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HYPOTHERMIC - J.POTTER
you are the only feasible solution that james can think of to warm up his frozen extremities
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WARNINGS: james and reader have an unconventional friendship, james and sirius being brothers as per, swearing, typical teenage antics
james potter x fem!reader || fluff || 1.8k || requests open!!
a/n: another new blog has spawned for another fandom (the marauders are encapsulating all of my thoughts rn)🤭 thanks for the ‘blog-warming’ request ml 🫶🫶
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It’s a crime James thinks, to have snow in April. It never snows in April back down in England, hell they’re not likely to have snow at all.
But apparently living up north in Scotland spelled different news.
It was even more of a crime that he had to go out in the snow. Quidditch was great, but no one should have to be flying in -2° weather.
It was April, it was snowing, and James was cold.
By the time the team hit the showers he swore his fingers were going to fall off from hypothermia, a sentiment shared by most of his teammates as they spent a collective ten extra minutes under the hot water.
The trudge back to the Gryffindor common room was almost as treacherous as the training itself, the stone walls of the castle doing absolutely nothing to block the chill that ran through it’s corridors.
Sirius swears to him that he sees some of the paintings shaking, and honestly he can’t blame them, he’s practically shivering himself and he had a long-sleeved t-shirt and a jumper on.
He has one singular plan. Sit in front of the fire and stay there until he was sure that all of his organs had defrosted, even if that meant missing dinner. That was a lie, he would definitely leave the embering comfort of the fireplace for dinner.
Now he was thinking about it, he was starving. Maybe he could convince Sirius or Peter to go down to the kitchens early with him to sneak something back up.
There’s an almost unanimous sigh of relief as the team walk through the fat lady’s portrait, like their muscles relax just from seeing the familiar red and gold decor and decide to just give up right then and there.
It’s a sight to be seen for sure, a majority of the student’s who’d taken up the lounge sofas and chairs for the afternoon looking on at the group with raised eyebrows and small muttered chuckles at their collective state.
“Have fun then?” There’s a decided smirk on Remus’ face as James and Sirius drag themselves over to the nook that you and him had curled yourselves into over the last few hours, and the two boys share a glance before turning it in your paired direction with a dissatisfied glare of jealousy.
You could not look comfier if you tried, tucked in either corner of one of the long sofas right next to the fire with blankets over your laps and flushed cheeks from the warmth of the room.
James is the one to give up on his seething anger first, practically collapsing himself onto the unoccupied space between you and Remus and flopping over until he’s got his face firmly planted across your knees, a loud defeated groan rumbling from his throat and vibrating through the blanket to meet your skin.
“I’ll take that as a no—” You can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your mouth at the display, unperturbed by the side eye you gain as James adjusts himself so that he can lie on you without suffocating himself or crushing his glasses.
“I swear my organs were freezing over out there,”
“That’s a little dramatic,” Remus shakes his head from behind the book propped up against his knees, amused smirk still lining his features.
“It is not dramatic Moony, we were getting hypothermic out there, seriously,” Sirius gives a tug to James’ legs so that he can sit down with his head over the back of the cushion, and it leaves James sat on the floor as a result.
“Oi, first come first served—” James tugs one of the decorative pillows you have tucked under your arm from you so that he can throw it at Sirius’ head, and it is promptly returned by Sirius with a middle finger and a triumphant look to go with it.
James lets out a sharp scoff of indignation as he rears the pillow for another throw, but its plucked from his, stiff, frozen hands before he has the chance to.
“That’s enough both of you, we were trying to have a calm afternoon here,” You scold the two with no real malice as you tuck the pillow back into it’s spot underneath your arm, and James sighs heavily as he slings his arms over your legs to rest his chin on top of them.
“It’s not my fault Sirius doesn’t understand sofa etiquette,”
“You were hogging the whole thing,” Sirius scrunches up his face in exasperation, gesturing outwards widely with his hand and almost knocking the book right out of Remus’ lap. “Sorry-”
Remus sighs, and the two of you share a glance and a silent shake of your heads.
You loved the boys to death, but my god did they not know the concept of sitting still for more than five minutes.
That point was only further proven as James gets up from the floor to wedge himself between you and Sirius, giving his leg a deft kick in the process for payback as he tried to worm himself in between your side and the back of the sofa.
“James—” The movement laves you lost for balance, and you almost tumble right off the edge of the sofa as he invades your spot, one of your legs falling from the seat to brace against the floor.
“What? I’m cold, and you’re right next to the fire,” His invasion continues as he tugs the blanket you have draped over you towards himself until it’s covering his lower body entirely and leaving you half-uncovered.
“You can’t just kick me out of my spot—” You huff, more than a little miffed at being forcibly removed from the position you’d spent almost ten minutes perfectly arranging to make you as comfortable as possible for the afternoon.
“I’m not, I’m not,” There’s a strong grasp around your torso, and then you’re being tugged backwards until your half situated on top of him with your back to his chest. “I’m sharing your spot,” His words are emphasised by his chin landing against your shoulder and his arms encircling your waist like you’re a soft toy a child would take to bed.
It wouldn’t be too bad of a position if you couldn’t literally feel how cold James was through your clothes, like a human ice pack attached to your back.
“You’re freezing James—”
“I know,” He takes your words as an affirmation to bury his face against your shoulder, curling up his legs under the blanket and in turn forcing you to do the same. “I’m warming myself up,”
“The fire’s over there mate,” Remus and Sirius share an incredulous look at the two of you. “She’s not a heating pad,”
You have half the mind to agree with them, and James can feel the way you nod at the observation, responding with a dissatisfied grumble and his hands pulling up the hem of the jumper you’re wearing to warm his icy extremities against your skin.
“James—” The temperature makes you physically jolt, your back shooting up straight and forcing his head from it’s position against your shoulder.
“What?” He tugs you back against his chest with false innocence dripping from his vocal chords, his hands using your stomach as his own hot water bottle. “You’ll get used it it, it’ll be fine,”
“It is not fine, your hands are practically ice,”
“I was playing Quidditch in the snow,” He wastes no time in reclaiming his place with his head hidden against the crook of your neck. “Of course they are,”
“Ugh, you two make me sick,” Sirius puts his index finger inside his mouth in a mock gagging motion as he shifts to stuff his feet underneath Remus’ thighs in his own attempt at warming up.
“Sounds like jealousy to me,” James shrugs, and it jostles you slightly in his arms. “You don’t have to project Pads, we all know you’re sad because Moony won’t give you a cuddle,”
“That is not true,” Sirius huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, though his gaze turns to Remus nonetheless, and he is immediately met with a shake of Remus’ head. “Whatever,” He scoffs, raking a hand through his curls with an almost unnoticeable pout on his face. “Just get a room already will you? You’re disturbing everyone with your PDA,”
“Why don’t you just shut your mouth already?” James tilts his head with an annoyingly cocky smile, lifting his face just far enough off your shoulder so Sirius can get a good look at his expression. “I can smell your breath from over here,”
“You little—” Sirius rips one of the decorative pillows from underneath Remus to launch it at James’ head, but considering your position as a literal human shield it misses him completely, hitting you square in the face.
“Hey—” Your arms aren’t raised quick enough to block his assault, but they do return fire the minute the pillow is in your vicinity.
“Sorry sorry,” Sirius is more successful than you at blocking the projectiles pillow, laughing in the process. “Collateral damage, it’s what you get for pairing up with him,” Sirius scrunches up his nose in exaggerated disgust, and James responds by sticking one of his hands out of the blanket to flip him off.
You take the opportunity of James’ loosened grip to slip out of his arms and onto your feet, and his pettiness towards Sirius immediately turns into betrayal towards you. “Where are you going?”
“Somewhere actually quiet?” You roll your eyes at him in feigned indignation, a small chuckle bubbling in your throat. “I love you guys but you are ruining my cozy afternoon,”
“No no I’m sorry I won’t fight with Pads anymore don’t leave,” He reaches his arm out to grasp at your wrist, giving it a small tug. “Stay c’mon, please?”
You raise your eyebrow at him, clearly not believing a single word coming out of the boy’s mouth.
“I promise,” He extends his hand out with his pinky finger raised.
You give him a narrowed gaze, but upon a prompting of his hand as he waved it in your direction you linked your finger with his, and he used it as leverage to pull you right back into his grasp.
“See? It’s very cozy,” James ignores the way Sirius rolls his eyes as he shifts you around in his lap until you’re both comfortable.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
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nohoperadio · 3 days
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That cool bee book I was talking about a while ago mostly refrains from philosophical digressions (which I think is a strength, I appreciated how the author had total confidence that just clearly presenting the facts about his subject would be enough to make a fascinating book without the need for any "...and here's why that should blow your mind" editorializing, and he's totally right), but there was one towards the end I've found myself thinking about a lot, which is: he wants people to stop using "self-consciousness" (i.e. the concept exemplified by the mirror test but used implicitly or explicitly in tons of other contexts) as a criterion for which animals can be considered sentient/morally relevant/having significant inner lives/however you want to describe it. Not, as you might expect, because he thinks it's an unreasonably high bar to meet, but because it's such a low bar that it produces no distinctions: he argues that basically any animal with any kind of developed central nervous system has to have some kind of self-consciousness almost by definition.
The example I remember best is: imagine you can see an object in your visual field getting closer to you. No matter the specifics, it's obviously always going to make a huge difference to how you evaluate this situation whether the cause of the object getting closer is a] the object is moving towards you, or b] you are moving towards the object. If a, then something might be pursuing you or falling on you or a thousand other things that are just not even worth considering in the case of b. But visually the two cases are indistinguishable; if you're going to be able to track the difference, your brain has to be putting at least some work into keeping tabs on what your own intentions are and what choices you're making as you move through the world, predicting the expected consequences of those choices, and maintaining a fairly tidy mental separation between stuff in the world that you're making happen and stuff in the world that's just happening of its own volition. Otherwise, every time you walk towards a rock you'll freak out and think the rock is rolling into you, or vice versa.
And it's not hard to see how this applies to your entire sensory world right, it applies to sounds and tactile sensations and even feelings internal to your body to some extent, if you're going to both perceive the world and take actions in the world then it's mandatory to mentally separate yourself and the world before that's going to yield even an ounce of helpful information, you just can't function successfully on the most basic level if you're processing stuff that you're doing on the same level as stuff that's happening, if you're in that state then you simply don't have a usable model of the world at all, you just have chaos.
So you can very easily eliminate a certain seductive narrative about the evolution of consciousness, which starts with very primitive animals who are mentally processing nothing but basic sensory inputs, then as you rise up the chain more complex animals are forming concepts of objects and building up a more nuanced understanding of the world, until finally you approach humans and the mind becomes so subtle and sophisticated that it gains access to this special advanced meta-level of thought where it can even understand itself! No, the self is precisely the one idea that has to be in place from the very beginning, before any of it has even the most rudimentary practical value. Self-consciousness isn't the pinnacle of the mind's evolution, it's one of the lowest, most basic foundations that everything else builds off of.
I think this is really cool stuff! I don't know enough about the relevant academic philosophy of mind debates to say how far all this does or doesn't speak to that, maybe someone will tell me the "self-consciousness" concept being attacked here is a strawman somehow, I don't know. But it's definitely impacted the way I (just a dumb guy who likes creatures) think about our small small cousins and what their lives might be like and I think it's super interesting. If you think it's interesting too then maybe you wanna buy The Mind of a Bee by Lars Chittka and read it. It's mostly not about this stuff, as I say it's light on philosophy and heavy on bee-life immersion, but if you actually read this whole post then you're probably in the market for that I feel like.
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yestrday · 2 days
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: ̗̀➛ ALL OR NOTHING. yan! aventurine / gn! reader
it's a nice feeling to finally be on the winning side, feigning fairness when all the winning cards are in his hand. but it's not like you can fault him for cheating. after all, you who has nothing chose to challenge him, the one who will gain everything.
( overarching theme of sl4very, anim4l cruelty, anim4l death, bl00d, graphic description of violence, hinted obsessive behavior, im unoriginal and stole kafkas spirit whisper for reader ) + 7.5k words
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"It's just a bet," he suggests, as if this gamble won't cost you your everything. "Juuust a bet. Exactly what are you so scared of?"
He sits laid back in his plush velvet chair, twirling a cocktail as he enjoys the finest luxuries in life. He is clad head to toe in the finest clothing, dressed like a peacock waiting to impress. You, on the other hand, feel more like the peahen— dreadfully drab in your rags and no choice but to watch as the peacock flaunts his feathers. You are knelt on the ground, but your eyes show no submission.
"I'm not crazy, gambler," you bite. "I know the IPC. They are full of shit. And you, Aventurine." Your eyes set on him with hatred. "You're the smelliest of the lot."
Aventurine, the gem of lies and luck, sighs dramatically. "Pup, you know I don't like it when you're so vulgar, y'know? I'm giving you a chance at freedom, so you ought to at least treat me at least a little bit nicer. I'm not the one who shackled you, so I don't understand what the aggression is all about."
"You're the reason why I'm here in the first place!"
"No, Jade was." He presses a finger to your lip and you'd bite it if it weren't for the annoying bind you were under. "Jade came across you and thought you and your talent would make for a nice gift. You were a gift and I'm just the receiver. So don't go barking up the wrong tree, pup."
"So." He leans back into his couch and shoots you a sly grin. "Up for round one?"
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You are lost.
The meaning of Paths and their symbolisms are lost on you. You don't care for Aeons— no one on your home planet was. You were busy diving in dumpsters for a scrape of food, tricking your 'friends' into sacrificing themselves for you, and killing whatever was left of your humanity just to make it to another day. You walk on no Path but yours.
You don't even know which way you're going. So you are lost.
You think Aventurine is lost too.
He has every detail of his facade practiced. His gait is relaxed enough to not be intimidating, but not sloppy enough to be called out as bad posture. He talks in a smooth voice that eases fools and makes enemies wary, his smile is charming to sway the opponent into another gamble, his hair is fixed to frame his pretty face, and he chooses words that cannot be turned into loopholes. He is Aventurine. But he is not himself.
He does not care for the Preservation, but he rejects the Elation. He is on his own Path too, but he knows the destination he must reach— his 'End'. In that way, he is different from you, because you know not your journey or your ending. Still, he is just as lost as you.
But he makes a darn good show of not seeming that way. Right now, you watch as he throws the dice on the table, and the whole table watches with bated breath as they turn. A six and one— he lost the bet to the other's six and five. They cackle gleefully as they collect their earnings from Aventurine. They have chips upon chips on their side of the table while Aventurine's winnings are cut in half.
"I think I'll call it a day, pretty boy," the gambler cackles, greedily eyeing his earnings and possibly dreaming about the cash he's made tonight. "Even a gambler knows when to call quits, right?"
Aventurine pouts. "Aww, so soon? C'mon, the night's only begun! Who knows, play another round and you might just end up with more money than you have right now~"
The man laughs again, obviously not fooled by his pity act. "Boy, I'm not as addicted as you are. I know when to stop instead of letting you bleed me out dry." But Aventurine isn't fazed; rather, he snaps his fingers and you lower your head as you step to his side.
"Well, we can't have that, can we? [Y. Name], be a dear and persuade this gentleman into another round with me."
A glow of your eyes. Then you fix the man with an eerie gaze as you say, bright and clear, "Hey, you: Play another round with my master."
As if in a daze, the man's eyes cloud over and sit right back. Another round later Aventurine wins all his losses back and more, leaving the other gambler's side naked and bare of chips. The man is barely out of his stupor when he realizes what just happened— that he's fallen for a trick and now he's ended up with no money to even cover his lodgings— but you and Aventurine have sauntered out of the casino doors by the time he's begun cussing you out.
"Ha! That was fun." Aventurine shrugs off his jacket now that you're in the car and raises an empty champagne glass to you. "You're a good partner, [Y. Name]. Honestly, that Spirit Whisper of yours is such a nice trick. Just like that Stellaron Hunter, right?"
"... Kafka?"
"Yes, her. Enigmatic woman, isn't she? A bit ironic how those with such a powerful ability ended up as slaves. Her as Destiny's, and you as... mine." He gives your collar a little tug and you growl in warning, but you inch closer to him anyway. "So. Gambling. You up for that round?"
You scoff and grin at him with all teeth and no mirth. "You really think that a Cornerstone would bet on their slave's freedom?" Aventurine's own grin grows wider. "C'mon. Even Pteruges-V has better lies than you."
"Ah, right, your homeworld. No wonder you're so brazen all the time, even to your superiors. I forget that fear is a foreign concept to you people. Still," he raises your chin with a finger. "If you're so fearless, why not bet on a gamble? It's not like you're scared."
"There may be fools from my planet that you can trick with that taunt, peacock, but I'm not one of them. I'm fearless, not stupid. And with the way you're so eager to involve me in this bet, I'm beginning to suspect that you need this more than I do." You push him away. "So, no, master, I won't indulge you. I'll bide my time and look for an escape. Just like I've always had."
"And what?" He looks at you from behind his sunglasses. "Will you kill me to gain that freedom?"
You flash him a sharp grin, now amused. "Of course you'd think that, master."
The smile on his face is wiped clean. You really are a brazen thing, you.
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Jade has always mentioned how soft Aventurine is on you. A dog of your attitude should merit a little more disciplinary action and even the good Doctor has told him this once or twice after seeing your arrogance despite the collar around your neck. "Your dog bites more than it deserves," Ratio scoffed while you made an action of biting him behind Aventurine. He frowned in displeasure. "You ought to make it learn a lesson or two."
"Now, now, doctor," Aventurine had laughed. "Not everyone shares the same sadistic tendencies as you." An image of you collared and shaking on your knees flashes through his mind, and he finds himself gulping. Ratio looks at him like he doesn't believe him.
It's not like he hasn't thought of it, of chaining you to the wall and starving you so that you learn that your attitude has its consequences. You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, not when he's been so good to you. But that... that was exactly the line of thought his old master had. That wicked man who put a brand on him and sullied his hands with his wretched man... he couldn't risk turning into a monster like... that.
Aventurine is weak. Unable to let go of past sentiments and memories, he makes it up with his grand display of bravado and high-stakes gambles. He gambles even as he spoils you, laughing at your audacity and even rewarding you for it sometimes, not knowing whether you'll leave him or if you'll stay with him. It is a gamble indeed, but you were worth every risk.
"What do you think of me, [Y. Name]?" The cityscape beyond the window is glowing with Pier Point's nightlife, and his suite provides him a good view of the world beneath him. He glances back at you, stirring his coffee for him. "Your dear master Aventurine. What do you think of me?"
"Annoying, stupid, a fool, an addict, and pathetic." You don't hesitate to badmouth your master. "You lie too well, you think that luck of yours will never run out, and you try to be someone that you can't."
"And who is that someone?"
Your eyes flash. "Someone strong. Someone confident. Someone who isn't afraid to admit his weaknesses and hope that things get better."
"I didn't peg you for an optimist, dear pet."
"Hmph. That's not optimism. I may not know what exactly fear is, but I know that what is holding you back isn't it. You do not fear things, gambler. You stake it all and bet on something so intangible as luck. That can't be fear."
"Then what is it?"
The stare you give him sets his heart off, looking straight into his eyes and giving a grin so devilish and knowing like that facade of his never mattered in the first place.
"You're a coward. A plain, old coward. Nothing more, nothing less."
That conversation had always popped up in his head in the most inconvenient of moments, especially when he was about to get some sleep. His heart beat faster every time he recalled that knowing gaze of yours, invading where he didn't want the world to see and baring his soul right before your very eyes. His facade doesn't work on you.
He could care less. You were the one person he didn't want it to work on, though he'd never admit that out loud.
This meeting with the other Ten Cornerstones could not interest him any less, and it seemed to be that way for the others too. Jade is saying something on behalf of Diamond, again, and everyone is busy doing their own thing. Only Topaz seems to be the one paying at least some attention, and even then she gets distracted by Numby from time to time. Aventurine glances at the clock.
He wonders how his pup is faring while he's away. Ecstatic, perhaps.
"— All evidence leads to an underground network that is scattered among numerous planets, though thankfully all of them are within the same galaxy. I'll be forwarding an email to you all with a detailed report on each of these. Just know that most of us will be likely deported to these countries to break up the—" In the middle of Jade's tiresome monologue, the security alarms start to blare and two officers slam through the doors with looks of urgency. One of them scans the room until his eyes land on Aventurine, and they quickly approach him.
"Sir!" They say, desperate and alarmed. "Your do— I mean, slave! They've– They've escaped!"
Surprise streaks across the faces of the Ten Cornerstones, even Aventurine's. He collects himself when he catches Jade's knowing smile and chuckles to himself.
"Well, I guess this is the master's consequence for not disciplining their pet."
Did he really think you were fucking stupid? Taking on a bet for your freedom... what a bunch of bullshit. He can proclaim about how much he loves a fair gamble, but you know that's only reserved for the people around the table. You are his slave, the one he demeaningly calls 'pet'— you don't have the chance to make your own dealings.
"Halt! In the name of Qlipoth, you better stop while we're giving you a chance." These IPC henchmen were slowpokes, the lot of them. You weave in and between salary workers, crashing trolleys full of wares and coffees and hopping between levels just to shake them off their tracks. By golly, they might be incompetent but Aeons damned they were nothing but persistent.
"Ha, the Devil Hunters were more annoying than them," you mutter to yourself, skidding around the corner only to come face-to-face with two IPC henchmen. They raise their polearms to strike, but with a chilling grin stretched across your face, you say: "Hey, you: Jump."
You don't look back to see whether they made the seven-floor drop.
This reminds you of the nights you spent back in Pteruges-V: making fools out of the prissy rich, jumping across buildings to shake of the Hunters, and using whatever you had to make things go your way. Not everyone had Spirit Whisper, but those who had made good use of it and you sure as hell wouldn't miss a single chance to use it.
Your mind runs with plans as you continue to run away. Maybe you'll find a nice ship to stow away on, hopefully, one that leads to a nice planet that isn't so stuffy and rigid. Maybe like Homberto-σ, out of sight from the IPC and where everyone minded their own business.
For what felt like forever trying to shake your followers off, you finally came to a stop when you realized that only the sound of your footsteps could be heard in this labyrinth of hallways and corridors. Finally having shaken them off, you sigh as you climb up the stairs to the rooftop. 'Just jump down and sneak off to the nearest hiding place you can find.' You tug at your collar and scowl. 'When I escape, not even this collar will matter anymore. Not when I'm somewhere they won't reach me.'
You've escaped so many life-or-death situations before. Escaping slavery is no different.
"Slave [Y.Name], subordinate of Cornerstone Aventurine, you are surrounded!" A voice blares through a megaphone the moment you step onto the roof deck. You hiss as multiple glaring lights settle on you, shielding your face from them and the helicopters' onslaught of wind. "Surrender now before we are forced to take extreme measures."
Through the gaps of your fingers, you can barely make out the men in black pointing their guns at your head, the red hot of the laser making you a point-blank target. You click your tongue. Those bastards tricked you into thinking you were safe. Fuck. You couldn't even be mad. This was all on you.
"Oh, little pup. I guess I really should have listened to them when they told me to discipline you." Aventurine's seedy voice sighs behind you, smirking as he nonchalantly strides up to you. "Did you really have to do all this instead of taking the bet? Do you really hate the thought of playing with me, hm?"
"Fuck off."
"No can do, little one, you know how much I'm obsessed with you, right?" He chuckles, catching your chin between his thumb and index and forcing you to look into his eyes. Those Sigonian eyes are covered by the cloudy purple of his glasses, but even you can tell just how much he's enjoying this mess you've put yourself in. "You know I don't have a need for your skill. I could easily persuade anyone without trying, but I still let you stick around. Pup, I can't just back away from you when you know how much I want you."
You smile darkly. "That's cuz you're a sicko who likes tugging on the chain instead of being in it."
Those pretty eyes of his darken for a moment, embittered by the snarky comment at his past, before his hands trail down to your collar, hooking it with a finger and pulling on it. "Dear, while I usually have the patience for your tirades, I'd rather not do it today. You've humiliated me enough in front of the entire Corporation. So—" Pulling once again on your collar, he starts to lead you to the door. "— Let us depart without much hassle, okay?"
Humiliation sears your nerves like a hot metal, a warning growl eliciting from your mouth as he continues to tug you away from the rooftop. Close, you were so fucking close. Here you are breathing in the fresh night wind, a jump away from freedom, but then these IPC idiots all had you fooled. You don't care how many bullets will embed themselves into your skin, all you just needed to do was get away from this grip Aventurine has on you.
You grab the wrist pulling on you, yanking him towards you. His eyes widen before narrowing again, as if not believing that you still had the energy to fight like you don't have red laser points on your forehead. "[Y. Na—"
"Hey, you: S—"
You couldn't even get another syllable out. Your collar beats a few pulses before it starts squeezing your neck, crushing your windpipes and forcing you down on your knees as you choke on your blood. It sears hot around your neck and you collapse writhing on the ground as you sob and gurgle on your screams and congealed blood.
'WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY ME—' You can only curse and scream inside your head as you painfully thrash on the cement. '— A BILLION BASTARDS IN THE WORLD AND IT HAD TO BE FUCKING ME.'
Darkness is pushing in on you and the pain is making it too hard to go on, but you've always been a fighter. Even if you think that your squirming is pathetic and futile to the onlookers, you continue to tug and pull on the collar like you have a chance. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are too fucking blurry to see with, but the fight doesn't die down.
Aventurine places a soft palm on your hair. Even through the tears stinging your eyes, you can barely make out the faint expression on his face. Damned fucking bastard, damned Signonian, hypocrite and the fucking devil—!
He even has the audacity to look sad for you, as the light slips away from your eyes.
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The first round is simple. Play a round of poker with him.
Aventurine hums delightedly as he shuffles the cards with clean and practised movements, looking right at home at the dealer's table he has sitting in his suite. You blankly look at the cards, not even an inch of a reaction from your side. He chuckles as he deals your cards.
"C'mon, look alive, dear." It's almost like he genuinely wants you to cheer up. "Look, I even poured out alcohol for you. It's not everyday that you get to taste Pier Point's most exquisite wine!"
You continue to stare blankly. You haven't given up yet, of course not, but... you can barely bring yourself to move.
When Aventurine is done dealing all the cards, he leans back on his chair and studies his opponent, just like he always has in the past. If you were acting normally, this would have been an easy win. After all, you always wore your heart on your sleeve and abhorred being told to control your emotions. You acted the way you felt— you curse when you anger, you boast when you're feeling smug, and you press your lips together and blush as he praises you for another job well done.
But now. Well. Bandaids cover the seared marks on your neck as well as your head after you've slammed it against the pavement during your delirious fit on the rooftop. Your arms are littered with purples and blues, the aftermath of a disciplinary session that went on throughout the night. Despite the abuse that Aventurine has (rightfully, in his mind) dealt to you, he had made sure to tend to you afterwards.
Settling your head on his lap, combing through the strands as he placed an icepack on your bruises. He hummed you an old children's rhyme from his home planet as you lay limp across the couch. You could barely move, mind unable to process the pain and despair of having an inch of freedom being ripped away from you. He had wiped away the tear that would fall from your eyes.
You couldn't feel comforted at all.
"This will be the first round out of four. Today, we'll make this a bit simple. Five quick rounds of Indian poker. If you're confident that your card is higher than mine, you can bet as much as you like. Not confident? Fold, and that won't count as a round. Loser has the lower card." He raises his glasses to his hair and smiles at you. "Understood?"
"Understood," you grunt. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot."
Aventurine only smirks. It irritates you, but you don't have much fire in you to snap at him.
The room is silent save for the clinking of chips against each other. The two of you cast a chip to the middle of the table. You raise your card to your forehead.
You cast two more chips. Aventurine casts three. You stare at the printed picture on his card and throw in another chip. He throws in another five. You frown.
"Fold."
"Ah~ You should've been more confident in yourself!" Aventurine chuckles as he begins to shuffle the deck to deal another round. You scowl at the Ace of Clubs in your hand, mocking you at your relinquished defeat. "Is a little intimidation all that's needed to make you submit? You weren't this docile before."
"Shut the fuck up and let's play again." He decides to stifle his laugh for the sake of your nerves.
"Raise." Your win, six of hearts to three of spades.
"Raise." Your win, queen of spades to jack of hearts.
"Fold." Could've been Aventurine's, ace of spades to king of spades.
"Raise." Aventurine's win, eight of clubs to six of hearts.
"Fold." Could've been yours, queen of hearts to 10 of clubs.
"Raise." Aventurine's win, nine of clubs to seven of spades.
Aventurine's practiced hands thumb through the cards as he begins to rearrange them again. His glass wine is almost empty, while yours is untouched. The man knows that you don't drink, so why would he...?
"Last round before one of us wins," Aventurine's voice lilts as he throws you your card. "How about we make it exciting? No one is allowed to fold this round." You frown at him but don't say anything. You cast another chip to the table, and he follows suit.
He has a 10 of spades pressed to his forehead, and your fingers dig deep into your skin.
'Oh please, there's other cards higher than a 10.' You remind yourself, but you gulp down your dry throat as your vision zeroes into his card. 'Jack, Queen, King, Ace. Anything. Please.' Aventurine notices your hurried breathing and smiles knowingly. You gulp whatever cowardice is rising in your throat and throw another chip.
"Raise." Fuck it. If this is the last round, then let's just ball.
He cocks his head, finding the motion unnecessary in this last round. But he sighs with a smile and plays along, casting his chips into the fray, "Then I'll raise too."
"This is the last round," you say, more so to remind yourself.
"Yep." He leans forward on the table and the fluorescent lights cast a shadow over those alluring eyes. "Nervous?"
'How could you say that? How could you taunt me like that? When you were just like me?'
You strengthen your resolve and glare up at him, the fire lighting back up in those blank eyes. "I hope you go to hell."
You throw your card to the middle, with the rest of the chips.
Jack of Clubs.
Aventurine cocks his head at you, smiling as usual.
"Congratulations, pet."
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One would expect that Pier Point was the peak embodiment of wealth and luxury, being the base of the Interastral Peace Corporation. But the brightly something shone the darker its shadows.
Aventurine just so happened to like those shadows, even shrugging off those fancy clothes of his just so that he could find solace in those sleazy bars and play rounds of poker with dead-eyed salarymen and recently fired hopefuls.
The surroundings didn't fare any better. Amongst the dying neon lights, Pier Point's worst neighborhoods featured a just as nasty environment. Drunkards lying beside dumpsters with shattered beer bottles around them, cats hissing at each other in a fight for survival, and abandoned children peeking at them around the corner as they lay in wait for an opening.
Aventurine has shedded his elaborate peacock coat in favor of a simple white button-down and slacks. Despite the simplicity, he still looked out of place amongst the rags, though it made people think of him as a fearless idiot rather than run away at the sight of the IPC's elite.
"Mmm, that robin is indeed very plump," the blonde idiot remarks out of nowhere. "Quite out of place for this kind of area."
You pay him very little attention, mindlessly kicking the broken half of a bottle with your heel. It bumps into a smelly bastard who shoots you an irritated look, but quickly cowers when you return it tenfold. "Maybe it's been feeding on the leftovers of you prissy IPC folk," you spat, taking a look at the fat robin for yourself.
He takes no notice of the slight towards his kind and instead cocks his head at the cat slinking around the corner. "Well. Its health has attracted a rather unwelcome predator." He turns to you, with a mischievous smile. "How about we make this round two? Who will die first, the cat or the robin?"
Seriously? You were betting your freedom on something as stupid as this? You consider the cat— snarling, insipid thing, balding and thin as a stick— then the robin, tweeting fearfully at its perch on the graffitied wall. "Am betting on the cat. Could eat the fat thing while you go on another gamble."
He laughs, sliding on his shades as he walks into the seedy bar. "Then I have no choice but to bet on the poor robin. Let's have some fun before we see the results of our bet."
The cat is lying on the ground, heaving its last few breaths. Its yellow eyes are barely peeking out from its eyelids, probably delirious and starving in its last moments. You poke it slightly with your foot.
It meows pitifully. You instantly feel bad.
It might just be the ugliest thing you've laid your eyes on, but even the ugliest creatures deserve some sort of companionship in their last moments. It hisses weakly when you draw your hand close, but it can't do anything but relent as you stroke its hairless head. It purrs a bit, ragged and breathy, but the heaving of its ribbed chest slows as it relaxes.
"Don't do that," you murmur. "Just... just be quiet. It's okay."
The quiet steps of leather shoes stop beside you, and Aventurine watches on in silence as you comfort the dying thing. His gaze moves from the cat to the robin, still perched on top of the wall with his fat little chest and beady eyes. It hasn't moved from its position at all, just... staring and staring.
"So—"
"I know," you murmur, focus still on the poor thing. "I know, okay?"
The fat robin chirps again, tittering with its mocking chirp, before it flies away into the sky.
Your cat closes its eyes shut, and its skinny chest finally slows to a stop.
Aventurine stays with you for a while as you find a nice spot of earth to bury it.
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No matter how much you want to believe your preconceived image of the blonde gambler— irresponsible, materialistic, money-wasting— you can't just make up lies about him in your head when all of his missions end on a win for him. Right now, he's heading for another mission in a galaxy far away again. And like always, he's dragged you along whether you like it or not.
"Come on, you like sightseeing other planets!" He laughs on the space warp going there. "Makes your blood pumping, scouting out the possible planets you can run away to."
"If I can run away," you grumble, not wanting to acknowledge him as you stare out the window and into the starry expanse of galaxies and space. This sight has always unnerved you— a reminder of how small and insignificant you are. How small and insignificant this collar hand on your life.
"It's not like you to be such a downer," he huffs. He pats the empty seat beside him. "Come, come. Drink with me. Ah, but no alcohol though. Don't want you trying to bite my entourage as soon as we get off." He's referring to the time that you had two sips of the lightest alcohol the ship had in stock before you absolutely wasted and decided that running away to the next planet was a good idea.
You grunt but sit on the floor next to his feet. He doesn't dare to correct you but only regards you with amusement before handing you a glass of sparkling water. You've always had this weird insistence of maintaining your master-slave status quo, despite abhorring your status as a slave. You followed his commands to the tee no matter how dangerous but refused to budge whenever he insisted on treating you like an equal.
"Don't get me wrong," you had snapped at him angrily one time. "As long as I'm in this stupid collar, I am not your fucking equal. So don't go around treatin' me like one, got it?!"
"You got the briefing, right? I'll be dismantling an underground operation on our next planet, so I'll be making good use of your Spirit Whisper." You sip your drink and make no reaction. "I'm sure you have no complaints about that, right?"
"Like I have a fuckin' choice."
He laughs into his cocktail. "Right. How could I forget?" Your eyes narrow into slits when he threads his thin fingers through your hair, but you don't make any move to remove them. "Unfortunately, this isn't an operation that I can just charm and gamble my way through, so you'll be doing a lot of heavy lifting. But so long as I have you, my dearest pet, I'm sure we'll be done before we know it."
You fight the urge to give into his tender touch, massaging your scalp as he combs your strands, though your eyelids are drooping now. He chuckles fondly when you rest your chin on the sofa, right next to his thigh. Adorable, how easily you succumb to the smallest of physical affection.
"Just take a nap," he hums. "We'll be there before you know it."
Aventurine's lavish outfit is a stark contrast against the nitty and gritty environment of the gambling den the two of you are staking out right now. Some of the men leer at him when he passes by, their faces painted by sweat and malice, and the promiscuous women bat their eyes at him with painted-on sweet smiles. No one bats an eye at the collared servant trailing behind him.
You try not to wince as you accidentally make eye contact with another slave, them kneeling on the ground with only rags to cover them and you have the luxury to look away as you grip the sleeves of your ironed button-down. You decide to just fix your eyes on Aventurine's back for the rest of the journey.
The next room you enter— less room to be honest, and more... coliseum-y— features a fighting ring where the crowd cheers on two dogs circling each other under the fluorescent spotlights. The other one, bigger and scarred, is baring his teeth while bearing a deep red gash across his body. The smaller one is shivering but giving the same energy back, snarling in intimidation while also sporting a noticeable limp. Despite the darkness of the room, you don't miss the way Aventurine's face contorts into disgust as he looks at the fight and surveys the crowd of spectators.
"Disgusting," he murmurs. You don't say anything back, though you doubt he could hear you amidst all this cheering. You used to bet on dogs too, back in the day. It was quick and easy money, and you had better things to worry about than the fate of some mutt.
While you're focused on the pathetic dog show in front of you, he steps to your side and nudges you with his elbow. "Willing to bet?" He asks, eyes focused on the show. "As our third round."
"From the look on your face, I thought you hated this kind of thing."
"I do, but I'm not putting money in the pot like the rest of them. This is strictly between you and me with no money involved." He turns his gaze to you. "So, what about it?"
You study the dogs. They've been circling each other for a while now, and the crowd's been growing more and more agitated by the lack of fighting. You think of the dogs you've bet on before, how the smaller ones had just an equal chance of success at winning as the bigger ones. Unconsciously, you tug at your collar. It matches perfectly with the stupid dogs down below.
"Bet," you huff. "I'm taking the smaller one."
You don't know why. It'd make sense to just bet on the bigger and badder, but maybe it's that ferocity in his eyes even if it's overshadowed by the growling menace that has you feeling for it. It's stupid, you know, betting your freedom on a hunch and emotions. But...
If it could have a chance at winning... then why can't you?
...
... Are you destined to die, just like it?
... Are you destined to die as a slave for another IPC slave?
... Will your death be just as morbid and pathetic as the mongrel, his innards spilling onto the pavement while the winner is pulled away by the collar, with no prize but another day of freedom?
This is round three out of four. You've only won one so far.
The very next round could kill you. Could completely sign away your freedom.
Shit shit shit shit shit. Why'd you have to go feeling sorry for the stupid shit? Why'd you have to empathize with its futile fight? Why'd you have to go see yourself in it? Now you could very much share its fate, dying pathetically serving for people who never cared about you in the first place.
Shit shit shit shit shit. The pressure of the bet has always been at the back of your mind, niggling at your brain. But now you can feel its heavy weight squeezing around your heart, in perfect rhythm with the phantom choking of your collar. If you don't win the next, you could very much—
Something light touches your shoulder and you lurch back like you had been stricken there. It disgusts and scares you, sending both repulsion and fear through your body like maggots wriggling into your system.
With a faltering outstretched palm, Aventurine's eyes widen behind his glasses. He sees something on your face, enough to make him bite down whatever cocky shit he has to say, and turns his back towards you.
"Let's go," he says, just barely audible above the crowd. "We still have a mission to complete.
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"This is some silly joke of yours, isn't it?" Aventurine maintains his cool facade, but even then there is disgust in his tone as he speaks to Jade. "Giving a slave to another... you must think this is hilarious."
"Amusing, maybe, but this little one is too precious to let loose in the wild." Jade strokes your head, and while you curse in warning, you don't move to attack. "A user of Spirit Whisper, a rarity even among those in Pteruges-V. Don't you think it'd be better if they served the Amber Lord rather than going back to their pretty crimes?"
"Then give them to someone else." Aventurine turns his back on you and Jade. "Since when did I need help closing a deal?"
"Well, I just thought that you were lonely."
"And you think gifting me a slave of all things would help me?"
"Oh, just give them a chance. I'm sure you'll like this one. Look." Jade raises your chin with a finger, lifting your bruised face to the light. You shoot her a glare, plotting murder in your head, but you don't try to fight back. You might have tried once, probably, and learned your lesson. "Don't you love the fire in their eyes, even after being collared and brutally beaten?"
It is sick. It is sick how Jade can just easily muse about your past abuse to his face. To him. It is sick how the IPC thinks that Aventurine would even be happy about this... gift, let alone accept it.
"I appreciate the... thought." Jade smiles at the barely held back distaste in his voice. "But I'd really rather not."
"Oh, I see..." Jade hums, tilting her head to scrutinize you. "But no one else will accept you since you're too feisty for their liking. So I guess..."
"We'll just have to kill you."
Your face pales. Aventurine has never been quick to turn around.
"Fine. I'll accept," he says with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. "I'll accept your gift, so just..." He sighs, massaging his temples and waving Jade off. "Go away and let us be."
"Is this some sort of savior complex you have going on?" Despite being a slave, you haven't really learned how to hold that spiteful tongue of yours. Half of the fault lies with Aventurine, seeing how he's never bothered to scold you for it. He looks away from the reports in his hand and smiles at you.
"Oh, whatever do you mean, my dear pup?" Your bitter scowl is pushed down even further at his sweet tone and you scoff.
"I mean," you say, gesturing all around you. "You never scold me, you give me good food, you do all these nice things for me. You don't beat and lash at me like others do. Are you feeling sorry? As one slave to another?"
"Personally, I've never heard of a slave complain about treating this well."
"It's weird." You frown. "It's weird and creepy. All these niceties yet I can tell that you don't even mean half of 'em. Your heart isn't in it. You're just doing it for the sake of being nice. So I don't get it." You cross your arms and lean on the couch, deep in thought. "If you don't even mean it, why even bother?"
Aventurine hums, studying your silent and pondering figure before returning to his papers. You don't follow up your complaints with anything else, and the two of you are left to stew in the silence.
... Why even bother indeed?
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"Last round and you only have one win, pup." His sickly sweet voice croons, tapping his perfect nails on the table as he watches your expression. "Are you excited?"
Normally you'd bite back, but today you thickly swallow. The looming sense of doom continues to hammer into the back of your skull, spiking your nerves with every beat and shaking your senses. You can barely feel your fingers. You can barely feel except for the fear coiling around your heart.
"... Yes." You can't even barely say a syllable.
Through the rushing blood of your ears, you can barely make out the sound of your master rummaging through something. Something metallic clicks into place and he slides it to the center of the table. You will yourself to look up—
A shiny revolver lies on the table.
A surprised cry elicits from your mouth and you jolt back. The sight of a weapon is enough to startle your poor nerves now and even more so the expectant look glinting in Aventurine's eyes. He smirks and leans forward.
"How about I make an offer you can't refuse?" Not that you were in a position to do so. "Since this is the fourth round, how about we go all in?"
"Russian Roulette. Whoever wins stays alive—"
—And the other lays dead in a puddle of their own blood.
It goes unsaid, but the moment you locked eyes with Aventurine, it was clear that the both of you were thinking of the same thing. You could ponder upon why the Aventurine would stake his own life over something so trivial as your freedom, but you aren't thinking anymore. All you want is your freedom. All you want is to get away.
You don't think further as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the gun and press it to your temple. You pull the trigger. Only a clean click follows, the chamber changing cases. You slide the gun over to him.
He calmly picks it up and slots it to his temple too. "Why are you so desperate to get away from me, pup?" He cocks his head. "I would give you everything you ask for, should you just ask. I treat you with care and as a friend. Is being with me so bad you'd put your life on the line for your freedom?"
He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He slides it over to you.
"Even if you go back to your old life, what would be the point? You'll go back to stealing whatever you can off nobles, treating your fellow street rats like fools and pawns before dashing off to your next victim. Would that give you happiness? Fulfillment? Is that the life you prefer instead of being next to me?"
"Sh... Shut up." You sound drained, but he presses on.
"You can have it all, in the price of a collar. Does it not sound good enough to you?"
'Why... Why of all people is he...'
"Do you really hate being owned by me?"
"Why are you..." You choke on your words, grip around the handle trembling. "Why are you saying those things?"
Aventurine has never seen you cry. Not once. Not even when he had to punish you for running away. You could be weak and beaten, but you never willingly cried. But now...
He raises a hand to cover his smile.
"I thought... I thought you of all people would understand." Tears drop to your lap and your hand lowers the gun from your temple. "The pain, the humiliation of being a slave, of being owned. It doesn't matter how nice you are to me. I just want to be free. Shouldn't that be enough?"
Silence overtakes the room as Aventurine takes in the unfamiliar sight before him. Here you were, his greatest treasure, the most vulnerable than you ever were. Sobbing and weeping with a gun in hand, the pressure of the bet finally getting to you.
He moves. "... So this is it? For your pride?"
You wince, looking at him in betrayal. "You... I thought you of all people would at least understand..." You stay silent, the words forming on your tongue but too afraid to sound them out. Then your expression twists into anger, then resolute determination, before you wipe away your tears and glare at him like you always did. "I was wrong. You're scum. Just like the rest of 'em."
The moment the head of the gun points at his head, the collar clamps down and chokes you till your throat cracks and bleeds. The current of electricity crackling your nerves is just as painful and torturous as last time, but you grit your bloodied teeth and press the gun further.
Aventurine looks dazed, staring up into your bloodied face. If you weren't in such agonizing pain you would have laughed at how stupid he looks.
"[Y. Name]..."
"I hope you go to hell," you hiss through the bloody pain. "And I hope that when I get there, I'll never have to fucking see you again."
You pull the trigger to that beautiful face of his, but nothing happens once again. Fuck. It falls to the ground as the pain overwhelms you and you finally stagger. It lays among the specks of blood on the carpet, along with its empty... case...
Your eyes flick to Aventurine, still caught off guard and staring at you with wide eyes. Hesitantly, he reaches out to your convulsing body and cradles your head. "[Y. Name]..." He says, still sounding dazed. "Why would you..."
"Fuckin'... coward..." You grit out. "I was right... from the very start..."
Aventurine watches as you succumb to the pain and collapse in his arms. Despite being unconscious, the collar continues to shock and choke you, and more and more blood spouts from the side of your mouth and into the carpet. He tries to wipe it, despite it continuing like a fountain, before giving up and stroking your hair as the pain continues to intrude on you in your sleep.
"I know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your eyelid. "You know it as well as me." He presses a kiss onto the other.
"You were never a bet I was willing to wager."
330 notes · View notes
milswrites · 2 days
Text
My Beautiful Girls
~ Cassian x Single!MumReader
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Summary: An anxious Cassian meets your daughter for the first time.
Warnings: Fluffy goodness
Notes: For the ultimate Cassian girly @sarawritestories
"Hi, I'm Cassian. It's nice to meet you!"
The Illyrian General smiled crookedly as he spoke, clammy hands trembling around the flowers trapped within his steel-like grip.
"Fuck . . . fuck . . . Come on Cas, you can do better than that."
Slowly unfurling his wings, Cassian lightly shook them in the hope of brushing away his steadily growing nerves.
"Breathe Cas, breathe" the male exhaled deeply, rolling back his tense shoulders before locking his determined eyes onto the closed door in front of him, "Hi, I'm Cassian! I've heard so much about you!"
A groan of frustration tore from Cassian's lips, shoulders slumping in dejection as he miserably dropped the flowers to his side.
Cassian had seen his fair share of carnage, having stared death in the face a plethora of times and still lived to tell the tale. Yet no battle, nor life-threatening experience, could have prepared him for the terror he felt in this moment.
The great Lord of Bloodshed riddled with fear at the prospect of meeting your sweet little girl, so only for her not to like him.
It was almost laughable, thinking back to how confident he was when you had first brought up the topic of him meeting your daughter. Cassian recalled flashing you a toothy grin, eyes bright and laugh carefree as he promised you that all children loved him. He was, after all, Nyx's favourite uncle.
Yet now, standing before the door to your home, Cassian wondered if he would ever find the courage to enter. Every possibility as to how this introduction could go wrong festered in the male's worrisome mind, until his poisonous thoughts left his wings twitching with the desire to fly away and hide from his fears.
But Cassian couldn't bring himself to flee, not if it meant losing you.
So here he stood, the icy winter air uncomfortably nipping at his wind-kissed cheeks, rehearsing exactly what it was he would say to your daughter when he first met her. Seeking to gain back some control in the face of his uncertain future.
Adamant that he would not be the one to ruin the one good thing in his life, Cassian drew in a long shaky breath before trying again, "Hi sweetheart, I'm so glad I get to finally meet you."
"Right back at you gorgeous"
If the sight of the Illyrian General practicing a mental script to recite to your five year old daughter didn't bring you to the brink of laughter, seeing the way he startled at your sudden appearance did.
Cassian stumbling backwards as you pulled open your door to great him, cheeks flushing a deep rouge as though you had just caught him in a compromising position.
It was only once your laughter had subsided, and the low grumblings of embarrassment from the male's lips had ceased, were you then able to greet him. Your warm lips coming to meet his own frozen ones in a soft kiss, the action working to further deepen Cassian's flustered blush.
An impatient shout from inside pulled you from your kiss, a light chuckle leaving both of your lips as you quickly glance inside to where your daughter was waiting, "She's been talking about this all day you know? I've never brought anyone home to meet her before, she's really excited."
Your gaze falls to Cassian who was drawing in deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. Concern pooling in your eyes as you watched how his lips were stretched into an anxious smile which failed to meet his eyes.
"Hey, there's nothing to worry about," you reassured your partner, moving a soothing hand to rest against his cheek, "she'll love you just as much as I do."
Appreciation swam in Cassian's eyes, a soundless thank you falling from his lips before he raised a bouquet for you to take. Or rather two bouquets.
"For you and Evelyn" he nervously mumbled, awkwardly shuffling his feet as he waited for you to take the flowers, "I wanted to get her something nice but . . . I'm not actually sure what five year old's like."
"They're beautiful Cas" you spoke, tears of joy lined your eyes at the male's generosity as you placed a gentle kiss onto his cheek in thanks.
"Are you ready?" you asked whilst stepping aside, making space for Cassian to squeeze himself through your doorway, the male having to curl his wings in tightly in order to fit through the smaller entrance.
"Come on, bat boy. It's time for you to meet your new best friend."
Placing the flowers down onto a nearby console, you led Cassian through your home, softly calling out to Evelyn as you approached the room she was playing in, "Evie, there's someone here to see you."
The sound of tiny feet padding across the floor followed your words, Cassian curiously moving his gaze to the entrance of the room as he waited for your daughter to emerge.
Only his eyes didn't quite catch her face as the small girl barrelled right into the skirt of your dress, shyly hiding within the flowing material of your skirt. "Come on Eves" you encouraged warmly, a tender hand coming to rest against her back, "Aren't you going to say hello?"
A little head tentatively peered over the fabric of your dress, Evelyn's eyes widening as she took in Cassian's wings which imposingly filled the space of your corridor. The nervous girl squeaked a small hello in the General's direction before moving to hide behind the safety of your body once more.
Worried that his wings were too intimidating, Cassian drew them in tightly, bending his knees in order to lower himself to Evelyn's level before greeting the shy girl, "Hi Evie, I'm Cassian." The male allowed a bright smile to cross his face as he watched your daughter's curious eyes peer over the skirt of your dress at his introduction, "Your mum has told me everything about you."
Wanting to aid Cassian who was growing increasingly panicked at the prospect of having to break the ice with your timid daughter, you bent down to speak to her, "How about we go into the room so you can show Cassian your toys hmm?" With a sheepish nod, Evelyn takes your hand, hesitantly moving out from behind your skirt in order to lead you into the living room.
Cassian followed suit, standing from his crouch before moving to the door, only to be unpleasantly surprised upon discovering he was unable to fit through the small wooden frame. His large wings blocking him from entering the room.
Curling them in tighter, the male tried again, attempting to walk into the room once more only to be stopped by the thud of his wings against either side of the doorframe. Just as a frustrated curse was about to tumble from Cassian's lips, a melodic laugh pulled him from his anger.
And Cassian could have sworn it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.
There stood Evelyn, in the middle of your living room, clutching her stomach as she laughed to her hearts content at Cassian's unfortunate situation.
It was impossible for him to be angry, Cassian's brows unfurrowing at the beautiful sound of her laughter, a deep chuckle of his own breaking from his mouth as he watched the young girl giggle. Love already growing in his eyes as Cassian wished to bottle the sound of her joy.
"Evie," you started in-between your cackling, "Why don't you help poor Cas get in?"
It took all his effort for Cassian not to melt when Evelyn padded over to him, cheeks still rosy from her laughter, and held out a tiny hand for him to take.
Making sure to move his wings into a position that would enable him to enter the room, Cassian took Evelyn's hand which was dwarfed by his own, allowing the girl to pull him into the room.
"My hero" Cassian sweetly grinned, crouching down to place a delicate kiss onto the back of your daughter's hand, "Either I'm going to need some smaller wings or your mum's going to have to get a bigger door."
Another round of giggles fell from Evelyn's lips at his words, her little hand still tucked into Cassian's palm, the girl shaking her head as she quietly spoke, "I like your wings just the way they are."
"Thank you" Cassian replied with a smile, cheeks dusting with a pink blush at her sweet compliment. "I like your dress" he replied, coming to lightly poke Evelyn's button nose which earned him an excitable squeal from the girl before her face adorably scrunched into a picture of curiosity.
"Can . . . can I touch them?" Evelyn shyly asked. Her question being met with sounds of protest from you, knowing just how sensitive Illyrian wings can be. Yet Cassian's answer surprised you, the male telling the girl yes without even an ounce of hesitation.
"Here" he softly spoke, taking Evelyn's hand which was still wrapped in his own and moving it towards a spot on his wing he knew wasn't as sensitive as the others.
Not wanting Cassian to feel obliged to do this just to keep your daughter happy you protested once more, "Cas you don't have to-"
"I don't mind sweetheart"
And as Evelyn's hand came to lightly press against the membrane of his wing, Cassian couldn't stop the spark of joy he felt at seeing the young girl smile. Knowing in his heart that despite this being their first introduction, the General would do anything and everything within his power to ensure your daughter's happiness.
It took everything in you not to cry at the sight of Cassian sating your daughter's curiosity. At the dazzling smile which was painted across his face as he looked at Evelyn with such love. A type of love you had only hoped she would one day get to experience, the love that only a father could provide.
“Can I mama? Can I please?” Evelyn’s begging voice broke you from your thoughts.
“Can you what sorry sweetheart?” You ask, wondering exactly what it was that left your daughter so eager for an answer.
“Can we go flying? Please, please, pleaseeee.”
Cassian grinned at you wickedly from behind where Evelyn was stood, shrugging his shoulders as he mimicked your daughter’s pleading tone, “Please mama, we promise we’ll be good!”
As you flatly stared between Cassian’s smirking face and Evelyn’s equally mischievous smile you silently cursed yourself, scoffing in disbelief at the fact Cassian had known your daughter for under an hour and had already pulled her into his troublesome ways.
Praying to the mother for the strength you are going to need for the restless days ahead.
It had been an evening to remember for Evelyn, Cassian having been more than willing to occupy her until the late hours of the night. Bed-time forgotten as the two of them played and played until Evelyn was no longer able to keep her eyes open no matter how hard she tried.
Your daughter sprawled across yours and Cassian’s lap as the three of you cuddled on the sofa. It didn’t take much longer for you to follow suit and join Evelyn in her dreaming, eyes drifting closed as Cassian’s warmth pulled you into an inviting slumber.
Cassian was more than content to sit and watch the two of you sleep, lip curling at the soft snores which escaped from Evelyn’s mouth.
And as Cassian lay there with the two of you safely tucked within the sanctuary of his arms, he wondered if this was what he had been missing all of his life. For being here, surrounded by the small family you had built for yourself, Cassian could have sworn that his heart had grown two sizes bigger.
So as he stayed awake, scared of missing out on a single moment, Cassian whispered into the silence of the night. A hushed prayer for whoever was listening.
“Thank you” a soft smile graced his lips, “For bringing me my beautiful girls.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: Ahhhh I love them so much 🥹
If you want to see any more of them and have an ideas for what it is you want please do feel free to send in some requests because I totally wouldn’t mind writing more about this little family 🥹
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Scars || Alexia Putellas
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Summary : you finally let Alexia be intimate with you. A little detail slips your mind but she soon uncovers the truth behind your hesitation to let her love you how she wants to.
warnings : smut in the beginning but nothing too explicit. angst. mentions of self-harm and bullying.
“Mm, amor you smell so good…” Alexia moans, kissing your neck. You smile and arch your back into her, biting your lip. She leaves wet sloppy kisses along your collarbones, nipping at them slightly. You giggle and tell her to stop tickling you with her blonde brunette hair, your hands tucking the loose strands behind her ears.
You hear her take a sharp inhale of your scent and feel your core throb at the deep sigh she lets out. Your hands cradle her head as she looks up at you, eyes darting down to your lips as she licks her own.
“Used that body wash you like,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss her. She kisses back immediately and you feel her melt, large hands pulling your waist closer to her.
“So beautiful,” Alexia whispers only for you to hear, the random assortment of rings on her hands leave cold shocks on your exposed skin.
 Her hands roam your build with determination as her lips nip and nibble on your chest. She pulls the tank top off you and takes a breast into your mouth, suckling gently. You shudder and moan her name unashamedly, chasing the feeling she left on your chest as she moved to the other breast. She kneaded the other and you could feel the groan in the back of her throat, strong thighs keeping yours wide open how she wanted.
The cold air in the room kept your nipple taut and hard, her fingers rolling them around as she rushed forward to kiss you.
“May I?” she asked politely, pupils dilated and full of lust.
“Please,” you beg and you see the look in her eyes darken.
But all this fun was about to be cut short.
You forgot one tiny thing.
But you couldn’t warn her before she pulled your sweats off.
“Cariño, what is all this?”
You take a split second to understand what she meant and when you finally realize it, she had seen most of it.
“No!” you yell, pulling the sweats back over your thighs and bounding for the bathroom almost tripping over yourself.
Your teenage years were not easy. Abandoned by your father and neglected by your mother, you ran away from home at age 7 hoping for a better chance at life. Two months on the streets, you were left cold and hungry, when a kind slightly elderly couple took you in. Sharon and Thomas gave you a roof over your head, hot food, and clothes; most importantly, a home.
They were both school teachers; Thomas taught PE and Sharon taught English. They were kind and gave you free reign in life.
Thomas taught you how to play football and while you were good, English was your passion. Writing came so naturally to you, Sharon was the one who suggested you write your first book. So you did. Poems came so easily to you, the words filling pages so fast, Thomas could barely keep up with buying you new ones.
Being an accomplished writer at 15 was unheard of, which gained you some local fame.
But with fame, came a price you wished you didn’t have to pay.
A local rival publishing team that had rejected your book was vengeful of the success it gained and did a little digging. They found your parents and your past, learning about your brief stint at homelessness and how you ran away from home at 7.
The headlines the next day were the topic of bullying from a group of mean kids at school. You didn’t remember their names now, years later but their words rang fresh in your mind if you allowed yourself to spiral.
Each word was one stroke of the blade over your perfect skin.
Each bloom of blood was the pain fading away.
Or so you thought.
Somehow the next day, their fresh set of insults doubled the pain. It made your chest tight, your head pound, your grades drop and your passion for writing evaporate.
“Nothing new in your notebook, peanut?” Sharon asked so sweetly, finding you sipping on tea in the sunroom. She brushed your hair back sweetly, leaving a kiss on your forehead.
“Nothing,” you lied. There were new things. They weren’t particularly parent-friendly.
“Tom and I are heading to a school meeting, dinner’s in the oven for you, okay?” she walks away, a knowing expression on her face. She can sense the pain like she was your own mother but kept her mouth shut.
“I love you,” she added and you looked at her, close to tears. If she could tell, she made no move to let you know she did but smiled when you said it back to her with a forced one. It broke her heart but she did not know that yours broke more.
You sat in your bathroom, hands clammy and shaking. The blade glimmered back at you like it was taunting you.
“It’ll take the pain away,” you convinced yourself, pressing the cold object over your mangled skin on your thigh.
The blood washed away but more pricked to the surface with each cut. Soon the water turned a dark red, and your head dully thudded against the glass wall, the pain fading into numbing nothingness.
The beeping of the monitors around you was what roused you. There were too many lights and lots of voices at once, but your mother’s sobs were instantly recognizable.
“Where did we go wrong, Tom?” she asked your father, “how did we not know?”
“I don’t know, Shar,” he said, sounding sad, “I don’t know.”
His next words broke you more than any bully's words could.
“I’m sorry we failed you, kiddo. Dad’s sorry.”
“You didn’t fail me, Dad. You saved me,” you mumbled, tears filling your eyes as they pulled away from one another and rushed to your bedside. Mom hugged you tight and thanked her stars you were okay while your father held your hand and kissed it over and over.
“There’s my little girl,” he said, looking teary himself.
“You saved me, both of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner,” you apologized but they were not hearing none of it.
“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to us, peanut. The best.”
You don’t know when you started to build the dam in your heart but it broke the moment your parents held you in their arms. The safety of their arms was something you didn’t know you craved. But when they gave it to you, all your pain went away.
You never felt that safety from anyone else. Until you met Alexia.
You were merely a fan in the stands, dragged to a Barcelona game by your friends at work who happened to have an extra ticket to a Liga F game. She caught your eye and you hers, shy smiles and a hastily bought jersey from the stands outside got you her signature and her number written below it.
It took two coffees and a single baked good to know you were marrying this woman. She was funny, kind, loyal, inspirational, and simply devoted to you.
But most importantly, her arms were a safe haven. For you and your thoughts that still lingered to this day.  
You explained every one of the scars on your legs after she had begged for you to let her into the bathroom. One thing about your relationship with Alexia was that you were sure she was too good to be true.
Part of you wanted her so badly, but the other part convinced you that she would leave the moment she saw the scars. the mangled skin from years of reopening wounds. The bumps and ridges that cheap blades from the corner store got you on a teenager’s allowance.
And when she didn’t leave, you hated that you felt her pity. This world-class football player felt bad for the girl she met in the stands at one of her games. But she didn’t. She sat with you and listened, eyes and mind solely focused on you.
“Show me your scars,” she asked.
“But why?” you answered, albeit through sobs.
“I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there.”
It wasn’t long before you were back in her arms again, safe and sound, ready to be fiercely loved by her for the rest of your life.  
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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the truth iii || leah williamson x reader ||
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your first time back in spain after joining arsenal.
this is the final part to the truth. hope that anybody who followed along, enjoyed themselves.
it felt like a dream to be a part of the champion's league again. at first, you had been over the moon about everything. that is until you got the courtesy text from the barcelona girls that jenni was coming to the games. you knew to partially expect that. she may have left, but she was still going to support her friends at barcelona.
"hey, we're about to land," leah said softly as she nudged you. the last that she had known, you were fast asleep against her shoulder. the flight wasn't a very long one, but you had been eager to catch up on some sleep. "are you ready?"
"as i'll ever be." leah frowned at your response. she had watched you freak out after the texts had come in. it wasn't enough for jenni to come to barcelona to watch the champion's league final, but she had also made alexia ask if you'd join them.
you knew that she had asked other girls first, but most of them had refused to talk to you on her behalf. ona had even gone as far as to block the older player for nearly three weeks. alexia was the only one who had told you that, mainly as a courtesy since laia had also been invited. she didn't want you to feel left out, even if she knew the last thing you wanted to do was go out for dinner with your ex.
"hey, everything will be fine love, i promise," leah said as she gave you a peck on the cheek. "i know that we haven't really said anything to anybody else, but my offer still stands if you want me to come."
"are you sure?" you asked her. leah nodded. she knew that you'd need support, something to make sure that you didn't go running back to jenni. your national team friends would be doing that as well, but having leah there would be grounding for you.
things with leah were nothing like they had been with jenni. leah was a great fit for you. sometimes she could be a little shaky with communication, but with some gentle pushing, she'd open right up for you. leah had helped you gain back a lot of the confidence that jenni had seemingly stolen away after the breakup. she made you feel safe in a way that you had never known before.
"i love you," leah muttered as she pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.
"i love you too," you told her. moments later, the plane landed and the two of you were shuffling off of it.
"and the traitor has arrived!" mapi shouted as you walked with laia and leah towards the table. you knew that she was joking, as she was the first of your old club teammates to run over to hug you. she wrapped her arms around you tightly, and it was only alexia and sandra's hugs that rivaled mapi's.
"i see that you brought someone with you," cata teased as she slung her arm over your shoulder. you glanced over towards leah, who was standing sort of awkwardly behind you. "care for proper introductions?"
"leah, these are our opponents. opponents, this is my girlfriend, leah," you said. actually saying the words made your chest swell with pride. leah stepped forward and took your hand as she waved with her other.
"when did this start?" alexia asked, motioning between the two of you. truthfully, you had fallen a bit out of contact with everybody back in spain. it was hard to keep up after having cut all contact in germany. laia would remind you about answering texts, but that was only because some of your less reserved teammates would pester her constantly.
"seven months," you answered confidently. "she is good to me, i love her."
"unfortunately that does not stop captain talks." alexia and irene both stood up, ushering leah out with them. you took a seat next to ona and lucy, who were trying to hold hands under the table discreetly. that left the seat next to keira open for leah to take whenever she came back.
"so, you and leah?" lucy asked. there was a small smile on her face, one that didn't completely hide her surprise. ona had mentioned that you were dating one of her english teammates, but lucy had assumed it was alessia. that had been originally who ona tried to set you up with at arsenal, but your chemistry with leah had been undeniable.
"it's good to see you happy," jenni said. everybody glared at her, as if she had no right to speak to you. you understood and appreciated their protectiveness, but it felt unneccessary. "i am glad that you are doing okay."
"thank you, jenni," you said. the reply felt forced. you could tell that she wanted to ask for a moment alone with you, but nobody else at the table would have let that happen. you were honestly shocked that sandra and cata hadn't tried to squeeze you in between them.
an awkward quiet washed over the table as your girlfriend returned with your captains. leah took the empty seat in between you and keira, who immediately started to interrogate leah about your relationship. you smiled listening to leah tell keira and the rest of the table stories about your first couple of dates and when she realized that she loved you.
it should have been perfect, but you couldn't stop the guilt that gnawed at you. jenni sat quietly towards the head of the table. she looked rough, worse than you could ever remember seeing her. even after everything that had happened during the world cup, she hadn't looked this bad. it seemed that jenni was finally coming to terms with the fact that you were really done with her.
you had once been so caught up in her that she didn't think it would ever be possible. somehow, you had moved away and moved on with someone else. jenni had to admit that leah really was perfect for you in all of the ways that she hadn't been. the two of you were different enough to work out well. you and jenni had been too similar, which was fun at first, but it quickly became a problem. jenni knew how to hurt you in ways that would never occur to leah.
"excuse me, i should head back to my hotel." jenni rose from the table without much fanfare. you watched her leave, itching to follow her out to talk to her. leah watched you carefully, unsure of what to do. it terrified her to let you go out there, but she knew that you needed to get some things off of your chest.
"go, talk to her. i'll be out to check on you in five," leah whispered in your ear. you hesitated but left when she gave you a small nod. everybody stared at leah like she had just grown a second head.
"you're a better woman than i am williamson," lucy said as she watched you walk out of the restaurant.
"she needs this, i have to let it happen. i have to trust that she'll come back to me." leah took some deep breaths to steady her nerves. she could go into the world's most important football game calm as ever, but this was making her heart pound in her chest.
"jenni, what happened? a year ago you were doing fine. what's changed?" you asked your ex. jenni had come outside and promptly sat down on the sidewalk. you stood behind her, unsure of how close to get. you didn't want to give her the wrong impression, knowing that she had been drinking a bit over dinner.
"you've got a girlfriend, and it looks serious. you moved on, and i'm still stuck here thinking about you constantly. every single day something reminds me of you, and it sets me back to square one. i've tried to find someone to settle down with because that's all i want, but i can't stand anybody for more than a few weeks because they're not you," jenni rambled. she looked up at you with tears in her eyes, ones that she had been waiting to shed until you were with her. she wanted you to dry her tears and tell her that you'd come back, but that was never going to happen.
"i am sorry that you are going through this, i am, but there is nothing i can do anymore. i have leah, and i love her more than i've ever loved anybody. we were good together, great sometimes, but it was always so physical. it wasn't easy, but i learned how to step away from that with leah. you need to find someone who doesn't just want to fuck you. find somebody to talk to," you told her.
"i don't want to talk to anybody, but you."
"we never did much talking jenni. it's not what you want to hear, but maybe you need to grow up. there's more to relationships than fucking, but i don't know if you're ready to accept that kind of truth." you had heard about her relationship with alexia, the last one that had really been serious from the sounds of it. "maybe i'm not the one you should be talking to."
"go back inside please," jenni grumbled. she sounded serious, far more serious than what you had ever heard before. you went back inside, catching leah as she made her way to come bring you in. the two of you sat down at the table together, leah integrating you into the bit of conversation she'd started with some of barcelona's defenders on who was the most frustrating striker they'd ever had to mark.
you hadn't done much defending in your career, especially not whenever your coaches had discovered your speed. they had quickly pushed you from the backline to the front lines. mapi and ona both complained directly about you, inciting the whole table to start telling leah all sorts of stories about you from your barcelona days. it was nice, and if you noticed alexia slip outside, you didn't mention it, even going as far as to distract everybody with a youth team story or two.
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 hours
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Based on this post here https://www.tumblr.com/ourrechte-blog/740959709140484096
Danny and the latest incarnation of the Demons ends up in Star City. They're doing ninja stuff as a way to get resources and find a way home. Green Arrow overhears mentions of "Great One" and "Demon's Head" and maybe Dani is there and gets called dahlia and it's misheard as Talia
Ollie: Batman, come over here and get your de-aged villains
Bruce: What makes you so sure they're mine?
Ollie: They're ninjas and their leader, who kicked my ass, is referred to as "Great One" so yes, I'm sure these are the League of Assassins under an alias. Or clones
Ra's finds this entire thing hilarious. Damian, not so much
Oliver is not having a good time. He noticed some shady activity going down in his city's underbelly and decided to investigate. Star City wasn't as crime-infested as Gotham, but it wasn't sunshine and rainbows either.
It was far better hidden, but corruption ran amok in his home, so he had to run around to get things fair. He noticed the ninjas only after a while of them being in town. At first, they seemed focused on gaining territory.
They moved from the poorest neighborhoods to the richest, slowly beating out the top dogs. It seemed the leader had the same mentality of prison- beat the toughest person on his first day and become the new number one. Usually, that wouldn't work with such solid and old operations, but somehow, the ninjas were doing it.
They cut off resources. It causes discord in the lackey's ranks. Pulled funding from who knows where. And Blackmailed the rest into submission.
It was a hostile takeover. A plague on the control of the criminal empires station in Star City.
And there was nothing Oliver could do to stop them. He felt like a fumbling medic during a pandemic. Too many areas were affected before he could arrive, and too many loose ends were tied before he could gather enough information to know what they were trying to accomplish.
He contacted the Justice League when it became clear that it was too much for his team to handle. They sent over Dinah Lace and Gregory Sanders (Much to the joy of his bi-heart), who helped him trace the pathway the ninjas were taking, but ultimately, they were unable to catch up.
"It's like chasing ghosts," Gregory complains, his red bandana moving with his mouth. His eyes are scanning the towering buildings, fiddling with his guns. "I see them for only a second, and they are much faster than any of my bullets."
"It doesn't help that one of them is a meta with a similar power to mine," Dinah agrees. She was the closest to the taller figure, attempting to use her Canary Cry to capture him. Imagine her surprise when the figure turned and returned a cry of its own, easily overpowering Dinah's and flinging her away. "We might need a Speedster"
"And a Bat," Olver sighs. "They're far too slippery. A Bat should be able to devise a plan that might work for them. My tactical strategies are falling short."
"How painful was that for you to admit?" Dinah asks with a smirk.
"I'm choking on my blood," He deadpans, causing her to laugh. At once, Olover's heart launches in his chest. She has the loveliest laugh. He throws her a smile that he knows is disgustingly gooey, and her eyes crinkle with the gentleness she reserves for him.
"I overheard them speaking for a bit before one of them heard my guns click," Gregory says, eyeing the two of them like he knows they are flirting but won't point it out. He's a spoilsport. "One of them identified the other. Does the name Talia mean anything to ya'll?"
Crude. Whatever good mood Olvier was in for making Dinah smile is crushed with sudden dread.
"Yeah, it does. Especially if it was anywhere near the words "Demon Head" or "Great One," He wearily. At Gregory's nod, he covers his eyes with one hand, feeling a headache build behind his right eye. It's a familiar headache. It usually pops up whenever Bruce Wayne's love life is mentioned.
"I'll call the Big Bad Bat. He'll get her to stop or kiss her. Whatever works. " Oliver sighs, even heavier than before.
"Why?" Gregory asks mystified
"That's Bat's ex."
There is a very long pause before Gregory's guns click again. A rigid set to his shoulders and rage appear in his eyes. "The young girl is Batman's ex? Good to know."
"Young girl? No, Talia is about my age." Dinah cuts in. "Are you sure she answered to Talia?"
The safety is switched back on as Gregory relaxes."Yes. She appeared to be twelve years old or so, with white hair and green eyes. Does that match Batman's honey?"
"Not even close. I mean, the green eyes, sure, but the rest is wrong." Oliver hums. "So we aren't dealing with Bat's girl, which is good for us. The League of Assassins is a pain. Also very dangerous."
Vigilante's eyes widen at the mention of the ninja group's name. "I heard of the organization but was unaware of the members. Is this Talia important in it?"
"She's the big boss's daughter," Dinah confirms. "Also, one of the bloodthirsty and cruelest members."
"That's not very nice," a young voice cuts in, startling the heroes. They leap away from the roof edge, watching a boy with glowing white hair flout over it, crossed-armed. "My daughter is a goddam delight."
"Ra's," Olver shutters. Yes, he looks younger and glowing, but Oliver would never forget that monster's face. He appeared often in his nightmares about the island.
The boy tilted his head. "You know me."
Oliver pulled the string of his bow, training the arrow on the figure; beside him, Gregory had his guns up and ready while Dinah had planted her feet in her preferred combat position. "I never forget a face."
"There is a version of me here," the boy hums, implying so many things that make the three heroes uneasy. "Maybe I wasted time gathering resources when I should have gone looking for the other Fentons."
"What do you mean by that?" Dinah demands, but the boy is already looking away and snapping his fingers.
"Guys! There are other Fentons here!"
Five figures fly up from over a building. Two are glowing, and three are wearing bulky power suits. Oliver's breath catches in his throat. Younger versions of the Demons. The same assisans whose abilities build Ra's empire and are the only ones to control them- the reason he is known as the Demon Head.
"That's great, Danny!" A girl with orange hair cries. She's inside the power suit, and Oliver knows her by her codename. Claw.
"Maybe we can have your dad make us some fudge." A dark-skinned boy licks his lips. He also appropriates a power suit but seems far more decked out for support. Makes sense, seeing as he obviously Scales.
"Let's go. The faster we get home, the faster I can make Vlad by me an island." A glowing teen rolls his eyes. His flaming hair does nothing to take away the fact he is Fang.
"Which way?" the little girl, Talia, asks, making a small circle in the air.
"I saw we find destruction and follow that. It's bound to lead us to them. We can cause chaos on the way." The last girl offers. She points the hand of her supersuit to the west with a nasty grin. It's Shadow. "Can't be worse than the Black Plague incident."
"How was I supposed to know the rats were dangerous!" Ra scoffs, face red in embarrassment. Which would have been amusing if he didn't just admit he caused thousands of lives to end. Oliver really does not like the implications one bit.
"Everyone. Don't you read any history books?"
"I don't need no books to tell me. I was there!"
Oliver thinks they are distracted enough to risk taking a shot. His bowstring snaps into place as his arrow flies towards the closest one. Claw's reaction time is as fast as he remembers because she had already shot the arrow out of the sky before it could go anywhere near Talia. The foam meant to hold her in place burst, covering the six from view.
Gegory's bullets hit it seconds after, burying deep within the hardened foam. The sharpshooter springs to the right, looking for a better target, but it's in vain.
When the foam falls, everyone behind it is gone, and Oliver is reminded that they face ninjas. Gregory lowers his weapon with a frustrated click of his tongue.
What in the world was going on! They were all de-age and somehow powered up. None of this was good.
"We need to call Batman," Dinah says in the silence. "This may be out of our league even with them turned into children."
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lazyneonrabbitt · 2 days
Text
Forest guardian
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Daryl Dixon x reader
You plan a week long vacation to a luxury cabin. Luxury is nowhere near what you find.
Yet another AU, mentions of canibalism, also Merle is gross.
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The bald man behind the counter of the shoddy store was probably the grossest dude you had ever seen, cleaning what looked like blood off his hands while he kept so openly staring at your tits in the low cut top and following you around with his intense gaze as you picked up some items from the racks. "Dontcha worry, doll. Had ta quit skinnin' rabbit when I heard ya come in. S'legal in these 'ere parts." He reassures you, and after you paid you sadly needed to interact with him even more, seeing you weren't familiar with the roads and needed help finding your destination.
"Oh, tha' cabin's over 'ere on tha' road. Can't miss it, sugar." He doodled a little house on the map for you. "Gotta park righ' 'ere." 'here' was marked with a small X. "Road ends, rests'a sand path, too narrow fer cars." With a filthy grin he pointed at the map and marked the location of the place you rented to spend a week in nature to heal. You needed to be away from society for a bit and booked this crazy cheap place in the middle of the woods close to a gorgeous lake. It surprised you there weren't any more cabins like that around, the area was so nice it would make a perfect luxurious vacation spot. Still, that gross man's voice rung in the back of your mind. "Now dontcha go swimmin' in tha' lake, missy. Pretty lil' thang like yerself'd gon' get snatched up ne'er ta be seen 'gain."
On the way to the cabin, following the route you were suggested you passed the lake and watched the sun cast a beautiful gleam over its surface.
'This really is too gorgeous to go swim in.' You mind wondered to the cabin as you closed in on its location, turning the last corner before the road cut off and your small path through the tree line became visible. Not wanting to walk the path twice you stacked everything you took onto your body and started to lug your stuff forward, seeing you had to round the cabin to make to the front door.
The cabin that looked nothing like the photos on the website.. "Oh of course I got catfished by a fucking cabi--"
Stopping dead in your tracks you dropped your bags and sent yourself forward, up the wooden porch and down on your knees.
A man laid passed out in the door opening of the cabin, his breaths shallow. Every item he wore was covered in dried mud and stained to hell and back. A dead rabbit laid beside him, probably dropped from his grasp when he went down. Kneeling closer you looked him over for and wounds and found a deep gash on his side when you turned him over, and saw what looked like a stab wound on his upper arm.
Underneath long, greasy hair there was a large gash on his face, long healed over and leaving an angry scar over an empty eye socket and one side of his mouth was torn open.
You wanted to stare but needed to help this man first, going to find your first aid kit and cleaning the wounds after dragging him onto the cot in the corner of the ratty cabin.
"I'm sorry." You murmured at the man who didn't even hear you as he was out cold. Applying the disinfectant to his wound had you wince along with the soft twitch of his body and a wave of panic washed over you.
What if he woke up, with you hovering over him? You had spotted the throwing axe strapped to his waist, along with two large hunting knives and suddenly prayed you wouldn't end up on the wrong end of those.
When he didn't wake you continued to clean and bandage his arm, and thanked yourself for throwing a pack of butterfly stitches in your bag and carefully stuck them over the cut over his side with one hand as the other held it closed between your fingers.
Wrapping his arm was easy, but having to unroll the bandage around his waist was proving to be a challenge, having to shove your arm underneath his body to pass the bandage to your other hand multiple times.
The invasive movements had moved the man's body and it surprised you he hadn't woken up by the time you tied off the end.
With his wounds patched you could only sit around and wait. You got scammed by a too good to be true offer on a cabin and the first thing you had to do after getting creeped out in the shop was patch up a stranger's wounds yourself because the area had no service.
Curiosity got the best of you after a moment and you went to snoop around the place, passing time by going through cabinets and drawers.
At the third drawer you opened you felt like you stumbled on a goldmine. A black wallet and chain, and a passport laid pushed towards the back.
"Daryl Dixon, huh." Both the ID and the passport belonged to the man, and other cards in the wallet held the same name. It had to be him.
You gave the pictures a long inspection, turning to go compare to the passed out man behind you.
Instead, before you got the chance to turn a hand came and snatched the items from yours. "S'mine, thank you very much."
With a shriek you turned to face the voice and were met with the iciest blue eye you had ever seen.
The open drawer dug into your back as you tried to move away from him.
With the stabbing feeling your gaze turned back to the drawer, hoping to close it but something familiar caught your eye. So instead you dug your hand to grab at a flyer, and with it pulling out a stash of attached papers that scattered over the floor and made Daryl take a step back.
The paper in your hands was filled with the same photos as the cabin rental showed. "The hell?" It was a sales flyer, it told about the building plan for a large amount of cabins surrounding the lake. You looked past the flyer to the floor, bending down to look at the various news articles about the area.
"JUST ANNOUNCED: NEW LUXURY VACATION HOMES." That one spread information about the upcoming tourist attraction.
A smaller piece announced a delay due to "disagreements from locals." You thought if Daryl and the shop guy were those locals.
Then a large, gruesome front page spread.
"MASSACRE AT BUILDING SITE. PROJECT CANCELED."
The title did the article no justice, the first sentence warning people to stop reading if they were easily nauseated, and continued on to go into detail of the events where a whole building crew was murdered mere hours after their scheduled arrival at the site. The murders deemed "too gruesome to share in more detail.".
More articles of missing campers and words of the mysterious serial killer in this area were scattered around and that sudden panic from earlier arose again.
You were dead. It was a fact at the time you first thought of it and it was still a fact now that you saw all this. With shaking breaths you slowly looked up at the man still standing before you.
His hand rested on the handle of his hunting knife, fingers not yet curled around it. His one eye staring, clearly deep in thought.
"That's you, right? The killer?" Your fingers rested on a smaller article, looking further up at his face.
A quiet acknowledging grunt left him as he turned around and ignored your further words.
Daryl's mind raced with opinions, facts and other voices that all called out different things.
He killed trespassers. Humans were bad for these woods, they shouldn't exist here. Except for him and his brother. But this one healed him, patched up his wounds and made sure he didn't die. You weren’t here to harm..
His wandering mind had led him outside, lighting a cigarette and deciding to return the favor and rummage through the bags you brought, fishing out a tub of cookies from your backpack.
From just outside the doorway you heard the familiar click of the tub clasps opening, followed by a loud crunching.
“Huh. HEY!” Getting up from the floor you made your way over to the man and snatched the box from his hands. “Those are mine, thank you.” Your tone mocked his from before and Daryl grunted in protest.
“Why’re ya ‘ere anyways?” You huffed in response, a hand on your hip and pointing the one with the box at where he still sat in front of your pile of bags. “Obviously I came here on vacation, but I guess I’ll be driving home again since I got scammed…”
You had moved to start packing up your first aid kit and moved over to stuff it back into your backpack but pausing, and handing the kit to Daryl. “Why?” He spoke around lungfuls of smoke before blowing it out away from you. “Got ‘nough a’those layin’ ‘round.”
‘Why’re ya tellin’ her tha? She saw yer a killer. Why aint she dead yet?’ The voice in his head blended with his brother’s, scolding him like he was so used to, but still not believing you were harmful enough to kill.
Besides, you knew how to tend to wounds which was useful.
Hell, even going out to find his brother to bring him an outdoor oven and ingredients to make those cookies and keep you around just fir those was enough to dispel the voices.
You were standing in front of the storage space at the back of he cabin and you were worried. Why were you following this killer and not just leaving your stuff behind and running to your car? You’d never speak of this and find some excuse on the way home. But still you kept standing there next to him as he opened the door and showed the huge collection of useful stuff. All taken from trespassers.
“You’re killing me aren’t you?” The words weren’t supposed to leave your mouth and a hand clamped over it immediately after, eyes on him in fear as tears threatened to spill due to the panic you were causing yourself. But then again, would it really be that bad if he killed you? No more shitty jobs and cheating boyfriends. No more crying yourself to sleep over bills and food.
“Yer dif’rent.” You barely caught his words when he disappeared into his stash and throwing a soft fuzzy blanket at you. “Feel tha’ one. Ya like tha’?” You hadn’t throwing the item until it hit you in the face, grabbing to catch it before it hit the ground and being taken off guard even more by how soft it was. It calmed you, rubbing it against your cheek. At the sight of the tab on it you gasped, taking a closer look at it and staring back at Daryl, your previous worries entirely overridden by the shock. “Why do you have a hundred dollar blanket in your shed?”
He only shrugged. “Sum whiny whore had it. Guess ‘er boyfriend thought campin’ at a pretty lake was gon’ get ‘em laid or sum’n.”
“Bitch was fuckin’ disgustin’.” A shudder ran along his spine at the memory of cutting her open. “All ‘er curves fake, no meat left on ‘er bones tha’ was edible. Damn fillers leakin’ out of ‘er flesh over the fire.” He just rambled about it like it meant nothing to him at all while you stared. He ate them? You were getting hungry just now but that feeling faded just as quick upon hearing him talk.
He saw the disgust on your face and decided he needed to shut up. “Ah, sorry. Ain’t normal people talk.”
His apology really came out of left field and had you swallow a giggle, but failing and sputtering out a laugh. “Why even are you telling me all this?” Despite your laughs it was a serious question. “I mean, what if ai leave and call the cops on you?” Not that you were going to, but you got curious and had already decided you were fine with however this day was going to end. If this guy as gonna roast you over a fire then so be it, you weren’t scared anymore.
“Who says yer leavin’? M’keepin’ ya ‘ere with me. Yer dif’rent.”
Different. There it was again, he’s called you that more than once now. “Who says I want that?”
“Y’aint runnin’ yet.” He put his pointer fingers together in a counting gesture. “Ya patched me up. An’ yer not scared a’me ‘n ma face.”
It’s true. When you first saw his face it shocked you a bit, but mostly you were curious how someone could survive a wound like that. You nodded thoughtfully, not entirely aware you did so and earned a smile. “I aint plannin’ on eatin’ ya. But ya gotta respect ma rules or I’ll change ma mind ‘bout it.”
“If you’re talking about eating people you better end me now, there’s no way I’m doing that, ever.” You held your hands up in defeat with the blanket tossed over one shoulder. “Go ahead.”
This time it was Daryl’s turn to laugh. A deep, rumbling laugh that had you squint at him. He laughed?
Your calm around the offer for him to kill you right where you stood surprised him. You really didn’t care if he took you out. He respected that, so as long as you were fine with his ways he had no reason to get rid of you. “Dontcha worry yer pretty lil’ head ‘bout tha’. Aint gon’ make ya eat ‘em. ‘Nough small game ‘round ‘ere fer ya. I’ll keep ya fed.”
Oh. That wasn’t so bad. Yeah, rabbits and squirrels weren’t part of your menu now but as long as he wasn’t feeding you humans.
Talking about eating made the grumble in your stomach make another appearance, this time accompanied my the unmistaken noise of hunger. A huffed laugh and a nod towards the front door had you both back inside where Daryl still had his rabbit he had started skinning at his makeshift kitchenette across the room rom where you sat on the bed eating your leftover sandwich.
You observed him from a distance. How he skillfully took apart the animal and separated the meats while keeping an eye on his fireplace in the meantime.
“Hey, c’mere.” Without looking up from his work he waved one hand above his head to get your attention. He made sure you got the pieces you wanted, and prepared them to your liking. The way he was roasting them over the fireplace was almost like an inside barbecue.
“Smells nice.” You had moved to sit next to him beside the fire that roasted your dinner.
You ate together and spent the time after in quiet togetherness. Daryl cleaned up the rabbit’s leftovers and spent some time doing god knows what outside while you stayed in. You sat on the bed fidgeting with your clothing and the soft fuzz on the blanket he gave you. For a short moment you wondered what you were still doing here, why you hadn’t gotten up and started walking away, but now your mind was blank, staring mindlessly at the floor. You didn’t even notice Daryl come back in. He just suddenly appeared in your view, dropping a stack of bedrolls and sleeping bags at your feet and beginning to roll them out. When you realized his implications you let yourself fall. Ack with a sigh. You really had been here since early in the afternoon and still hadn’t made an effort to leave and were about to spend the night in a killer’s cabin in the woods..
You wondered if all these setbacks in life had officially driven you mad.
After you offered to take over from Daryl to “make your own bed” he only scoffed and tapped your ankle to make space. “Makin’ ma own bed ‘ere. Ya keep the cot, s’fine.” You went back and forth a bunch of times but he kept insisting you kept the bed. Why was he so kind?
You tossed him his pillows and got a quizzical look that followed you as you went to retrieve the ones you brought from your duffle bag at the door. With an understanding grunt he moved on, unzipping a sleeping bag and laying it over the bedding and left through the curtain beside the kitchenette.
You were about to lay down and zone out when he walked back through the curtain, ducking b something out of one drawer lower than you got before when you got there and move back, keeping what was in his hand hidden from your line of sight, but you caught something in his mouth for a second. “Wait. Hold up.” Oh fuck. His mind told him he fucked up by grabbing that magazine. You were gonna ask what he grabbed and there was no way you needed to know what he was planning to do behind that wall. You sat up and watched as he peeked his head from behind the curtain to look at you with a raised brow, faking his best annoyed look. “Hmm?” With a toothbrush between the scarred end of his lips he waited for you to speak.
“You brush your teeth?” You were seriously confused now. “You, a serial killer living in the middle of nowhere, brushes his teeth.” You pointed at him, hand palm up in disbelief. He rolled his one eye at your wording and took the thing from his mouth and pointed it back at you in an almost threatening way. “Yeah, so?” He spoke around a mouthful of foam. “Ya will keep up too when ya gotta yank out a rotten tooth ‘n can’t eat nut’n but soup fer weeks.” He scoffed at your assumption of his hygiene just because he killed people. “Gotta keep clean ta eat. Can’t eat, can’t hunt. Can’t hunt, can’t keep them woods ‘ere safe.” His tone was serious, he meant every word and made it clear these woods meant much to him. Enough to kill for. After he was done he turned away again and the room fell silent once more, taking it as your cue to crawl under the soft blanket Daryl gave you and sleep for the night.
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scarlethexelove · 16 hours
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can you please write Y/N and Wanda also Natasha is not dead here (up to you thooooo) , and Y/N pretty much replaced Vision. But before these events Natasha has always been there for Wanda, (after Endgame) so she didn’t make a hex but still griefed about Y/N and Wanda making a big move for Y/N’s reincarnation but in a good way. After Y/N being back from the dead. She learns that her soon to be wife has already fallen for Natasha and her reincarnation just meant nothing and Y/N didn’t go on with her life and ended it just there.
Wands regretted everything until she lost herself and made a big mess with the universe (pretty much MoM) and overall Wanda regretting everything, and when she gets us back (it can be Wanda taking another one of us in an another universe) or her just making us alive from the dead *this all can be up to you author*
I love your stories 🖤
I'm Sorry
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Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 3590
Warnings: Cheating (Allusions to it but really it is there), Angst, Major character death, Mentions of Murdering innocent people, Angry Wanda, Suicide by others, Not really a happy ending, tiny bit of fluff like very little.
A/n: This one was fun. I hope I did it justice. I may have changed a little bit of it but I hope you still like it.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
Everything hurts. You have a splitting headache and it feels like you got run over by a MACK truck. Your face scrunches up in pain, the lights too bright even with your eyes closed. Sensory overload has you curling in on yourself. Hands come up to clamp on your ears when you hear a voice, but it’s so loud and muffled that you don’t even know who is talking to you. All you want is for all of it to stop. You had been an experiment but that experience doesn’t compare to what you are feeling right now. 
“Nat turn the lights off.” Wanda orders the older woman in the room. Nat flicks the light off as she watches Wanda brush some hairs back. You let out a whimper at the contact. It breaks her heart seeing you like this. When her hand brushes against your skin she can feel you. She feels your pain. Red whisps leave her fingers slowly seeping into your skin. Soon enough the pain starts to dissipate. 
Wanda crawls in the bed behind you wrapping herself around your frame. You feel a body pressed against yours and you immediately know who it is. “Wanda.” You whisper. You turn around in her hold and nuzzle into her neck. “I’m here sweetheart.” Wanda combs her fingers through your hair. You're so tired and she feels like home. You fight to stay awake but her ministrations have your eyes closing. “It’s ok detka get some rest.” Wanda whispers and kisses the top of your head. You finally let yourself drift off to sleep. 
A little over 5 years ago the team was fighting Thanos. Your powers let you see brief points into the future. You saw that if you died that Wanda would be safe. Thanos needed you gone to get what he wants but you also saw that in the end the Avengers would win. The event that sets that in motion was your death. So as much as it pained you you let it happen. To save Wanda, to save the world. Wanda could move on but the fate of the universe was in your hands. 
“Wanda.” Nat says softly from the corner of the room. She looks at you curled into Wanda’s arms. A sight she had hoped to never see again. “Natty, she needs this.” Wanda says softly, still stroking your hair as you sleep. Nat just nods. It hurts but she knows it is something that Wanda had to do. 
Your mind races. Your dreams are of your last memories. The fight with Thanos and how you let him kill you just in order to save everyone else. Your body shoots straight up as your chest heaves from the memories. You feel a hand rubbing up and down your back but you haven’t quite gained control. You mind questioning how you are here. Why are you alive? You should be dead. That was all your mind could see and you had accepted that fact but here you are. Tears stream down your face. “Why?” You're not sure what you are asking, who you are asking the question of. You feel so small. “Why what detka?” Wanda asks you with concern on her face. “Why am I here? I should be dead.” Your voice breaks and Wanda’s heart hurts seeing you like this. 
Wanda starts explaining everything that had happened while you were gone. Excluding some details. They had worked tirelessly to bring back those that were snapped away. Wanda and Nat become the de facto leaders of the Avengers. It took 5 years but they finally did. Once that was done they set out to bring you back. It took some time but somehow when Bruce had snapped his fingers he was able to bring you back. But somehow you ended up in a pocket universe in a deep sleep. They were finally able to get you back safely. All the information flooding into your mind is a lot to handle but eventually you understand. Somehow the universe had different plans for you. 
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It’s been a few months since you came back. Most things are the same but something seems off. Wanda hasn’t been as loving towards you. Before she was always so touchy and wanting nothing more than to crawl under the sheets cuddling while watching some sitcoms. But now she barely even gives you a hug. Sleeping in the same bed has you feeling like she isn’t even there. She is a million miles away even if she is only right beside you. Your heart hurts not understanding, is she still mad at you for letting Thanos kill you. Anytime you try to talk to her she just brushes you off and says nothing is wrong. So you're left alone to your thoughts and worries.
Nat had moved into your shared home while you were away. The two women grew closer at the loss of so many others. You want to be angry and jealous that Nat gets more attention than you but you still trust Wanda hoping that she will come around eventually. 
You’re walking towards the kitchen when you can hear a hushed discussion between Wanda and Nat. You stop just shy of the door frame listening in when you hear your name mentioned. “Wanda you need to tell Y/n.” Nat says her body leaning on the counter and arms crossed against her chest. “Tell her what Nat?” Wanda counters. She sits at the table with a sad look adorning her face. “You know what Wands.” Wanda lets out a sigh. “I can’t do that to her Nat.” Wanda’s voice is low. “You can’t keep lying to her. You can’t keep lying to me. I love you Wanda.” There is a pause in the conversation before Wanda speaks up. “I love you too.” Your heart drops the moment the words spill from Wanda’s mouth. 
You’re quick to turn on your heels as the tears start to stream down your face. Holding in a sob as it all makes sense now. In your absence the two had fallen in love. You’ve somehow become the other woman in Wanda’s life. You don’t know how you didn’t see this coming. Your powers should have felt this but they hadn’t and now you’re left heartbroken. You push into your shared room focusing on pulling yourself back together. You can’t let them know that you know until you figure out what to do. 
The buzzing of your phone pulls you out of your despair for the moment. You see Fury’s name flash on the screen. You quickly wipe your tears and answer the phone. “Sir.” You say masking the waver in your voice. “Y/l/n I have a mission for you. Since you have been cleared for duty I would like you to head out tonight with Barton and Barnes. I have sent over the reports for you to go over. Good luck out there and glad to have you back.” The phone line goes dead as the man hangs up the phone. You open the report sent to your phone. You now see the flashes in your mind of how the mission will go. And that is where you see it. What you’re going to do. 
That night you enter the Quinjet greeted by the two men. Hugs and joy at your return. Your powers are always a significant help to missions. You three go over the plans for the mission. You lay out what you had seen in your vision, excluding one crucial part that the men don’t need to know. You know if they did they would try and stop you. But your heart aches and you put on a fake smile so that no one would expect a thing. 
Everything was set to go. A long message meant to play for Wanda after it was already too late. This would be your last mission. Wanda and Nat would have all that they could ever want. You wouldn’t be the burden that you know you are. They should have just left you dead if they were going to do this to you. So you made that decision for them. You weren’t going to come back from this mission alive. 
The mission was going perfectly. Playing out exactly as you had seen it. Bucky and Clint were together and far away from you. You snuck into the building off the side. It held some hostages that had been taken by Hydra. You snuck in taking out every agent that you passed. It didn’t take long for you to make it to the hostages. You were able to release them from their binds and get them out of the building safely. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. Bucky and Clint were waiting exactly where you told them too. Having each hostage run towards them for safety while you stood with your back towards the open area. 
You waited knowing what was to come soon. You could change the outcome but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be in a world where Wanda loved someone else. You waited with bated breath as the last hostage ran towards your teammates. You exhale the air in your lungs before a sharp pain in your stomach is felt. You grit your teeth turning around firing off a few rounds, but you're hit with another round to the shoulder. You can hear the muffled sounds of Bucky and Clint calling out for you but you push through. Another shot to the leg sends you kneeling on the ground. You push through the pain as you stand. A few steps forward as you unload your mag into the man. Another man appears with his finger on the trigger of his gun. You watch as an arrow sores through the air and hits the man directly in the chest. His finger squeezes the trigger as he falls. You’re hit with the array of bullets. Your body sways before falling to your knees then falling to the ground. The ground below you stains red as your body goes cold. 
Wanda felt a change in the universe. She cries out causing Nat to panic next to her. Wanda clutches her chest in pain. She felt this twice before. Once when Pietro died, the second when you died fighting Thanos. She had never wanted to feel that pain again but here she is feeling it. The world stops turning at that moment. Not again she thinks tears streaming down her face. 
The doorbell rings but Wanda doesn’t hear it. Nat tries to console the younger woman pleading for her to tell her what is going on. It continues to ring when no one answers until Nat gets up and finds out what is going on. Wanda sits sobbing on the couch. Nat walks back in with a folded paper with your hand writing on it. Wanda scribbled on the top. 
Wanda sees this snatching the paper from her hands and quickly opening it before reading the words delicately written across the page. 
My dearest Wanda,
You’re reading this because I’m gone. I’m sorry to do this to you
but I can’t live life like this. I know that you no longer love me.
I see the way you look at Natasha and I know she is now
the love of your life. I want you to be happy. I saw this coming
and I could have changed it but who am I to keep you from the 
one you love. Don’t mourn for me, just live your life. You don’t
have to worry about me anymore and you can be happy, that 
is all I have ever wanted for you. But my love I can’t live in
a world where you love someone else. So this is goodbye.
Love,
Y/N
Tears hit the paper blurring the words in front of her. Wanda’s heart shatters into a million pieces. How could this have happened? How could she have thrown away all that you two have? She is absolutely disgusted with herself and with Nat. This isn’t how it was supposed to go but she was blinded and now her eyes are finally open but now it could be too late.
Through the tears Wanda gets up making her way out the door and immediately taking off towards the compound. Her magic lifts her into the sky as she flies as fast as she possibly can to the one place she knows you would be. Praying that maybe it was all wrong, maybe you can be saved. Nat calls out for her as she leaves her alone standing in the yard. 
The ground cracks below Wanda’s feet as she lands hard on the ground. Anger and guilt pumping through her veins as she walks towards the building. Her magic slamming doors open as she makes her way to the med bay. Your body is already lying there. Bucky and Clint talking outside the room. Windows lining the wall as they keep looking back at your body. Wondering what they would tell the angry redhead but they didn’t have to wait too long. They spot Wanda fear and sorrow on their faces. “Wanda we can -” Clint is cut off. “Save it.” 
Wanda makes her way into the room. The boys walked away looking like kicked puppies. Wanda’s breath picks up as she sees your still body encased in a black bag. The top half of it unzipped revealing your pale skin and blood staining your suit. You look so peaceful like you could be sleeping. Wanda cups your cheek, a light jerk of her hand when she feels how cold you are. She lets her magic slip out the ends of her fingers going into your head. Fresh tears streaming down her face. “I can’t feel you.” A sob wracking her body. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry love you never deserved any of this.”
Wanda silently sobs as she sits next to you. Your hand in hers as she just stares blankly at your body. The door clicks open a while later. Wanda doesn’t turn to look. “Go away.” Her voice is hoarse from all the crying but she doesn’t care. “Wands.” Nat whispers. “I said leave.” Wanda’s voice raises as her head snaps towards the door red swirling in her eyes. Nat knows she is just upset so she doesn’t back down. “Detka.” She whispers. “Don’t you dare detka me.” Wanda stands letting your hand drop off the side of the bed. “This is all your fault. She is fucking dead because of you.” Wanda seethes. “Don’t put that blame on me Wanda. You're just as much the problem.” Wanda stalks towards Nat red surrounding her body and slamming her into the window, a crack forming behind her body. “Don’t you fucking dare blame me. It should have been you. You should have died back then. I would still have her. She is more of a woman than you will ever be. I let myself be blinded by you. Blinded by the love you gave but I didn’t love you. I don’t fucking love you.” As hard as Nat can be, Wanda's words cut deep. Tears shine in her eyes as she holds back a sob. Wanda sends Nat’s body flying through walls until she lands outside. Wanda follows as she does so. Releasing Nat’s body which is now battered and bruised. She then flies off into the night. 
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It’s been months since anyone has seen Wanda, held up in a small cabin in the middle of nowhere surrounded by mountains. Some have tried but they always get blasted out so they stopped trying. She has been lost to the Avengers and they aren’t sure they could ever get her back. The day they lost you they also lost her. 
Wanda’s black tipped fingers comb through a book. A very dangerous book. The more she searches the darkness in her soul grows and the blacked tips grow. She has tried everything in the book to bring you back to life but none of it works. She had another attempt today, something new, something hopeful but it ends with a magical outburst throwing everything in the cabin. She continues to comb through the pages ignoring the disarray around her. She closes her eyes and lets her magic do the work. It’s not long before she finds something new. She thought she had seen all that this book had to offer. All that the Darkhold had to offer to the Scarlet Witch. 
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You are sitting in your living room, two small boys cuddled into each of your sides as you watch a movie. Empty bowls of ice cream sitting on the coffee table that you have your feet propped up on. You laugh as your son Tommy tries to mimic you. You other son Billy giggling along. Tommy huffs and crosses his arms. “Not funny.” He mumbles. You can’t help but ruffle his hair which makes him swat at your hand causing you to chuckle. “One day buddy you will reach it.” You kiss the top of his head. All of you falling back into the silence, the only sound is the movie playing. 
Your mind flashes to a vision of Wanda but not your Wanda standing in the middle of your living room. Her face twisted into something you can’t even imagine in your wildest dreams from the woman you loved. The pain that she has caused to get to this point. As your world comes back to you you are met with a star shaped portal in the middle of your living room. What was once an image in your head now in front of you. 
Wanda’s hand wraps around the young girl's throat in front of you. “What did you do?” She seethes. The two boys next to you are terrified. You quickly stand and tell them to run but Wanda’s head snaps towards you. The couch you were once on is now thrown at the stairs blocking the way. You push your boys behind you in a protective manner. Wanda’s eyes trailing the boys curiously, a small warm spot forming in her heart seeing your protective nature. She didn’t expect to find you with kids but she always wanted a family with you so it can’t hurt. 
“Wanda!” You yell at her. Wanda is startled by the anger in your voice. You have never yelled at her like that. “Let the girl go.” You demand of her. Her hand slips from the girl's neck as she coughs on the ground holding her throat. Wanda starts stalking towards you but you back up with your boys behind you. 
Billy tugs on your shirt a little trying to get your attention and you quickly look back at him. “Is that Mama?” His voice sounds so small. Your attention quickly turns back to the woman in front of you who has stopped. You can see tears in her eyes at Billy’s words. “That is not your Mama.” You shake your head. You can see the hurt on Wanda’s face as she gets closer to you. “I can be.” She says a crack in her voice. 
You start to walk towards the woman but your boys try to stop you. You motion that you will be ok as you stand in front of Wanda. “You could never be my Wanda.” She falls to her knees, her hand on her chest as she looks up at you. “I can see your hurt and your pain but you have caused so much more and for what.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I did it for you.” She whispers. “I would never want you to do this for me. Wanda you murdered people. Good people.” Wanda stands back up and moves towards you, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You back up away from her touch. “I wanted you back.” You scoff and shake your head. “After seeing what you did I could never want you. I miss my Wanda but you are not her and could never be.” 
Wanda’s face twists in anger. You try to back up again but she is quicker this time. She grabs your wrist in her hands. “Wanda that hurts.” You whimper as she digs her nails in. “Too bad. I’ll make you love me just you see. Now that I have you back I will never let you go again.” There is a panic that rises in you. “We will have the perfect little family.” She looks behind you. “Won’t we boys?” They are too scared to say or do anything just holding onto each other for comfort. 
Wanda keeps one hand on you as she turns around. Her wrist flicking as America is thrown back through the portal. It dissipates from the middle of the room before she turns back to you. You struggle to get free but she is stronger than you remember. She clicks her tongue and looks at you, her hand finally reaching to cup your cheek. Red whisps leave her fingers as they sink into your mind. “All mine now.” She replaces every memory and thought of your Wanda with her. Changes the fear to love. You’re hers now and no one will change that. Her magic soon flowed into the boys having the perfect little family. She would tear the world in two to keep you and the boys forever. 
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Warm Blood
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Gale / Astarion x F! Tav
(Warm Water part 3, can be read alone)
18+ miscommunication, misplaced anger, sex as a tool, yearning, confessed feelings, urgent sex, restraint, dom Gale, oral (f!), fingering (f!), masturbation (m!), marking, a little silliness
With a sanguine competitor now circling with the large druid, Gale can no longer put off his advances...
Masterlist, Prev Chapter
-
She hissed gently as he readjusted his hold. He would have to find a new vein it seemed. Even with him closing her wounds, their nightly feeding sessions left her skin tender to touch.
Her generosity staggered him. His body feeling far better in these last few weeks than it had in centuries. Lithe and strong. The bone aching cold he had resigned himself to thawed by her warm blood, her molten body pressed against his when he fed. Her rich blood nourishing him to his core.
Though, their arrangement made him uncomfortable on a fundamental level. She not only didn't gain anything in this exchange, she actively lost something. It was too unbalanced, and he'd be a fool if he thought the other shoe wasn't poised to drop. She would want something in return eventually, and there was only one thing he could offer.
Taking slow mouthfuls, he wound his hands around her waist. Kneading the flesh languidly.
It had baffled him when she had politely turned him down at the tiefling party. She was so handsy and touch driven, he was sure seducing her would have been rather easy. Though, there was still time. As far as he could tell she wasn't tied to anyone yet, though there were several circling already.
He slid the movements of his mouth from purely practical to sensual. Kissing and suckling gently as he drank.
She hummed, stroking his hair through her fingers.
Finding that encouraging, he slid one hand around her hip. The other rising to her ribcage, heading north.
She froze then. "Astarion, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" He purred, licking her wound closed with far more tongue than needed. Dragging a flat line up her neck. "Tasting you, darling."
"Why?" Her tone genuinely curious.
He scoffed, pulling back. "What do you mean why? You're beautiful."
"I am, but that doesn't answer my question."
Gods she was aggravating. Heat rose to his neck, her blood fueling the rush.
"Is it so unbelievable that I would want you? You must know your company is highly sought after." He tried for more compliments to loosen her up. But no dice.
"Huh, interesting." She narrowed her eyes slightly at him, lips pursing in thought. "So it's out of obligation."
He threw his hands up, eyes rising to the roof of his tent. His frustration breaking his mask.
"Of course it's out of obligation!"
Far too late, he realized what he said. Eyes lowering to hers slowly. Anxiety throttling his spine.
She only tilted her head at him slightly.
"It's okay. You don't have to, Astarion." She held her hand palm up. "Are you still hungry?"
He blinked at her. Anger flaring through him again. Though for what he couldn't pinpoint.
"So I just drink you dry every night, and you get nothing in return?" He retorted.
"How do you figure I get nothing out of this?" She asked in that aggravating curious tone, not matching his anger at all.
"Gods, don't give me that." His voice rose, standing and starting to pace. "That's not how the world works! There is give and take, and all I've done is take!"
She watched him continue to tirade quietly, appearing to just be listening. Somehow, that made him more heated.
Soon he slowed, his rant winding down. She watched patiently, open and waiting for him.
"Are you ready to hear what I think?" The question genuine and not rhetorical.
He huffed, breath still hard from his efforts.
"Fine. What?" He sniped, aware that he was being childish but too wound up to stop.
"I think you and I have a lot more in common than you realize, and I think I understand more than you give me credit for."
She paused, gathering her thoughts. "When all you get from people is pain, that's what you come to find in them. Even when it's not there. And when you don't get it, it's frightening. Yes?"
The air vanished from his lungs. Her eyebrows raised slightly, seeing that she had gotten through to him.
"In the Underdark, the only hand that reached for you was painful." She pulled up her sleeve, the tapestry of scars criss-crossing her dark skin revealed to him. "So that's what you naturally associate touch with. Anger. Fear of the flesh is survival."
She smoothed her fingers in a self soothing arc across the deep tissue. "You think I seek out touch because I'm naive, or even easy."
She looked up at him, those topaz eyes cutting straight through him. "But I know pain, Astarion. Intimately. I understand deeply why you have come to where you are, why you need to push others away. It's safe that way, yeah?"
He could only nod.
"You're right. It is safer." She conceded, smiling. Pulling her sleeve down. "Can't fault you for that. But I'm greedy, I want more than just safe. And touch is so much more than pain when you let it be."
His jaw clenched, biting back the lump that had risen in his throat. Wanting to retort, but finding no words that could validate him.
His hand shot forward, pulling her into him. Her soft lips sliding against his. Pulsing out his frustration into her plush mouth, needing so much more than he had taken.
She kissed him back tenderly, saying her piece. Not falling into his angry pit for a moment. Her soft touch in clear defiance to his inciting.
He pulled away, hearing footsteps approaching.
"Everything alright? I heard shouting." Gale lifted the flap of his tent. Making eye contact with her punctured throat with clear distaste.
"It's okay, thank you for checking." She responded warmly.
Astarion glared at him over her shoulder, the wizard giving him an equally leveling look.
"I think we could use some space, actually." She said impartially, turning to him. "Are you okay to stop for the night? I could give you a few bottles."
He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I think I can manage not withering away without this copious doting, darling."
She patted his arm, nodding. "I'll bring the bottles."
"Has anyone ever told you you're infuriating?"
She only smiled at him, turning to take Gale's upturned hand. Rising out of his tent. The flap falling closed on him alone again.
He flopped face down, groaning.
-
After she quietly dropped off two bottles of blood at the entertance to the crimson tent, Gale took her small warm hand in his. Leading her to the view overlooking the edge of the city. They were so close, the precipice at their fingertips.
She sighed wistfully, pulling him to sit with her on the grass.
"Baldur's Gate." She mused dreamily. "I wonder if it's as awful as I've heard."
He barked out a laugh. "Oh, I'm sure it's just atrocious. We're sure to hate it."
She laughed too, then gave a little thoughtful wince. "Ooh, Halsin is definitely going to hate it."
He was sure the druid was a fine person, but given his leanings, Gale was less concerned.
"Well, he can always stay outside. Who knows how much room our new camp will have anyway..."
She rolled her eyes at him, knocking her knee against his.
He caught her knee in his hand before she could pull it back. Rubbing his thumb in slow circles.
She slid up flush to him easily, leaning her head into the curve his shoulder.
"How are you feeling?" She whispered, the backs of her knuckles gently knocking on his chest.
"Ah, that." He chuckled, slightly embarrassed at her concern. "Oh, you know. Heartache is nothing new to me."
She leaned her head back and sighed dramatically at his joke, the edge of a smile on her lips.
"Just awful. I'm never asking again." She shook her head in solemn jest.
"Oh, please do. The healing touch of your disdain is tantamount to mending my heart."
He paused then, nerves fraying. The smell of his lavender in her hair bolstering him in a soft smile.
"I have been meaning to speak to you. About matters of the heart."
She turned to him, topaz eyes bright in the moonlight. Thick spirals of dark hair cascading down her back. Gods, she was so beautiful it made him dizzy.
He turned his gaze to the ground, picking up a smooth stone and turning it over in his palm. Having something to touch always helped him think.
"I've come to fancy you. Quite a lot. Though this is not the proper way I would have preferred to court you. In the dirt and blood." He sighed, wishing things were different.
"You must know you're... you're very special to me. I hope I'm special to you too, but if I'm misguided just say the word and I'll back off."
The words tumbled out of him, a vexing blush rising to his cheeks. Feeling like a school boy confessing a crush.
Her body shifted, standing on knees. In one fluid motion she hooked her leg around and straddled his lap. Bringing his eyes to hers in a hand tenderly cupping his face.
His breath was entirely taken, dropping the stone he had been holding with a soft thunk.
"Took you long enough." She teased, her dimpled smile making his heart rush.
"I fancy you too, Gale. And I'd like to show you that, if you'll let me." She hushed, her body heat radiating into his torso.
He could only nod, all blood rushing away from unimportant higher functions. Hands gripping her wide hips in a groan, the sensation far better than he ever could have imagined.
Her hands wound into his hair, pushing a heady kiss into him with a little whimper.
His eyes rolled up into his lids, just the kiss sending him under. Hand rising to the small of her back. Her lips pulsing into his with slick need. Tongue dancing along the seam of his lips in question.
He opened happily, a hungry moan leaving him when their tongues twisted. Both hands palming her ass greedily. The ample globes of flesh kneading in his fingers, her smothered mewl sending impossibly more blood to his already straining cock.
All of her touch spun around him in a lustful haze, far too much and not nearly enough.
He pulled his shirt over his head in a whip, only leaving her lips for a single moment. Her hands finding his trousers, palming him over his sleep pants.
"Fuck," He hissed, it felt too good already. Precum pooling far too soon for his liking. His body touch starved and hungrier than it had any right to be. Trying to force the tunnel vision of promised release open again.
He pushed forward, twisting her down onto her back. His hands rising under her sleep shirt to caress the unbearably soft curve of her waist.
"By the Weave..." He muttered, her body far too intoxicating. Cock throbbing insistently.
He felt completely lost, head nothing but liquid desire. Leaning down to kiss sloppily along her waist. Pushing her shirt up to her clavicle.
She squirmed under him, breath fast pants. Pulling his hair back in a fist, watching him with lust blown eyes and kiss swollen lips.
Gods, how was he already close. He couldn't be this down bad, could he?
Oh who was he kidding, of course he was.
He pulled her bralette down, her breasts springing free. A growl vibrated in his chest at the sight, gripping the front of the band, pulling it down onto her ribs.
He pulled back to slip her leggings off of her, revealing her arching hips, hip bones sliding underneath. Thighs wide and plush, dipping into her hips. Her legs falling back open, the curve of her ass teasing under her. Slick pooling from her gleaming cunt.
"Oh, come on..." He huffed, just the sight stroking down his cock in a rush. "That's not fair."
"You're one to talk. Why do you look like that wizard?" She scoffed. "All those muscles, for what? Seducing poor quivering maidens in the grass..."
"Oh, we'll get to the quivering." He smiled dangerously, leaning down to lick a stripe up her hip bone.
She whined, arching her hips up more into his mouth. The heat coming off of her cunt soaking his clavicle.
Gods below and above spare him.
Trailing his mouth down, his cock twitched in anticipation. His practiced mouth about to be seated where it longed to be. Where it belonged.
He breathed in a deep pull of her, nose nuzzling into her curls. Gods, she was divine. Her sweet musk making his mouth salivate. Truly he had been deprived before this moment.
Her hips starting rolling impatiently, and he pushed a forceful hand flat to her lower belly in response. No, he was going to savor this.
She moaned under his hold, bringing a smile to his lips. So she liked it like that...
He breathed a warm wave of air on her cunt, watching it twitch in what he knew was a clench in a devious smile.
"You bastard..." She groaned, the need apparent in her voice sending a shiver down his back.
"Language..." He chuckled. The lack of touch making her writhe deliciously under his hold.
"I'll show you language." She scoffed.
Grabbing both sides of his face she pulled his eyes up to hers.
"Bite me, choke me. Hold me down and spit in my mouth. Tongue fuck me like a whore, wizard."
His pelvis clenched, eyes rolling up into the back of his head. Hand clawing into her thigh.
"Oh Gods." He groaned, finally diving on her cunt.
He lapped his tongue in undulating waves, slurping her clit into his lips.
"Fuck!" She cried out, gripping his hair hard in her fist.
He suckled down hard, suctioning his lips around the bundle. Tongue pulsing wet curved pulls. Hands keeping her thighs forced open as they tried to clamp shut around his head.
Her high keening whines melded beautifully with the slurping sounds of his hungry mouth.
Her hips bucked helplessly against his hands, ribs arching up. Only the underside of her jaw visible above him.
He smiled into her cunt, releasing one thigh and pushing his forearm into the apex of her thighs. A bar holding her open still, his two fingers sliding slowly into her. Humming into her clit in pleasure, fingers spreading eagerly into the velvet slick pouring up into his palm.
Her head shot up, staring down at him almost in disbelief. Hand bracing her at her side.
When he began strong and slow thrusts of his fingers, her head fell back sharply. Voice only mewling calls. Thoroughly tamed, warm and pliant under his devotion.
He knew this was as close to the heavens as he had ever gotten. Harnessing all of his senses to bottle this into his everlasting memory. Though he imagined it would be very hard to forget.
He curved his fingers up, stroking that ridged bump in hard thrusts. Clamping down on her clit again, lapping his tongue in hollow pulls, like slurping soup.
"Oh Gods," She whined.
He groaned hot into her, chasing her hips up as they tried to squirm away. Free hand grabbing her waist and pulling her back down hard. He was not even close to done.
Fingers arcing into her in vicious thrusts, unrestrained. He wrenched his head quickly side to side, sucking down in popping wet pulses of his lips.
She cried out, her pelvis tremoring hard. Unable to hold her thighs open anymore as they arched up and clenched down around his head. Muffling around his ears. Cunt clenching in hard flutters around his fingers. He looked up, drinking in her arching ribcage and scrambling hands. A strike of fluid striking his jaw. Sending his eyes up into his skull.
His hips fucked into the ground, unable to still them any longer. Removing his fingers to slurp her cum into his mouth uninhibited. Pushing out of her in creamy pulses. Greedily lapping all he could catch, rubbing into her clit to encourage more.
She let out indignant pleading whines, but he wasn't done yet. His cunt slicked fingers gripping around his cock. Drinking her cum as he fucked into his fist.
Only two or three thrusts and he was gone, wrenching ropes up his belly. Pelvis clenching in vicious pulses, shooting pleasure through his body in teeth gritting waves. The endless ache behind his navel firing out in tortuous strikes. Hand bracing next to her hip in the dirt desperately.
His mouth slowed then stopped, panting hard into her thigh. Resting his head into the seam of her hip, thoroughly spent.
"That good huh?" She teased, her own breath telling of equal pleasure.
Head still down, he held his finger up in a signal to give him a minute.
She giggled, thoroughly pleased. "My, my, Gale at a loss for words. Wait until camp hears about this..."
He looked up, glaring at her in jest. "Don't you dare."
She smiled wide. "Hmm, I dont know... It's a pretty monumental thing to go unnoted. It would be a shame to keep to myself."
He trailed up her body, balancing on elbows above her. She gave him a pout, eyes wide in mock pleading.
"How else is everyone suppose to know I'm yours?"
His cock stirred again, huffing out a groan.
"Tav, you're killing me." He admonished. She only bit her lip in a smile at him.
"Well, if you don't want me telling everyone, you better leave your mark on me." She purred, turning her chin up. Eyes sparkling mischievously.
"Oh, that I can do." He smiled, angling his head down to her neck. Pulling the soft flesh between his teeth.
She laughed then moaned, that little whimper he was already addicted to in her throat again.
Oh, it was hopeless. They were going to be here all night.
~
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~
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tuiccim · 2 days
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Lost in the Dark (Part 3)
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Dark content! Somnophilia, Non/DubCon, and other dark elements. This fic contains dark themes and may include potentially triggering topics. You are solely responsible for your media consumption.
Summary: Bucky comes home after a mission and can’t wait to be with you.
A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby
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Denial, anger, bargaining, depression. You had been through each of these stages of grief multiple times in varying orders. Facing away from Bucky on the edge of the bed, you went over the last few months in your head. Nothing you did fazed him. He remained steadfast, calm, and loving. There was only one stage left, acceptance. Your last resort was to accept your fate and try to gain his trust. Maybe you could escape before Stockholm Syndrome took hold. If you could convince him to trust you maybe there would come a moment when you could slip away.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, you turn over in the bed and cuddle up to his side. His arm instantly went around you. Laying your head on his shoulder, your hand resting on his chest, you forced yourself to relax.
"Are you cold?" Bucky whispers. You can feel the tension in him at your unexpected touch.
"No, I'm just..." you were about to say you just wanted to be near him but it was a lie and he'd know. So, you told him the truth, at least in part, "I'm trying, Bucky. This is hard. It's not what I thought my life would be."
"I know, doll. I just can't lose you. I need to know you're here and safe," Bucky says as he kisses the top of your head.
"I understand," you whisper. You didn't, you didn't at all. You had been his from the first time he'd asked you out. You were head over heels for him, then. That life, that world seemed like a distant dream. The longer you were with him, the more you felt disconnected. You supposed that's what wore people in your situation down, what made them succumb to acceptance of this reality. Tears leaked from your eyes despite fighting to hold them in. You just wanted to go home.
"It's okay, doll. Don't cry. I'm gonna keep you safe," Bucky says as he gently wipes away a tear.
"Was I not safe before?" Your voice is strained.
"No one around me is safe. I'm sorry I put you in danger but I love you. I had to be with you and so now I have to protect you. I'm sorry I was so selfish. I need you. I love you so much, doll. I'll make you happy, I will. You just have to trust me. Can you try? Just try for me, doll?" Bucky says earnestly.
You pause for a moment, thinking through your next move, "I'll try if you'll make me one promise. I need you to promise not to drug me again. I don't like it. It scares me."
Bucky thinks for a moment before tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes, "I promise.”
“Really?” You look into his eyes searchingly.
“I promise, doll,” he whispers earnestly.
As you look at him, you remember the man you had fallen for before all of this. His beautiful blue eyes seem to beg for you to believe him. Slowly, you inch your face closer to his. He holds his breath as he studies you, hope blooming in his chest. He fought the urge to pull you to him, letting you take the lead was important in this moment. Not daring to move a muscle, he watches enraptured as you bring you close the distance. Your eyes glance down at his mouth and then your lips press to his. You give him one small kiss before pulling back to look in his eyes again.
Bucky stares back at you, lips slightly parted, eyes full of awe, hoping, praying you’d kiss him again. It had been so long since you had kissed him back, since you’d even looked him in the eyes. He was desperate for your touch.
You were just desperate. So you kissed him again, this time twining your tongue with his. He still gave you the lead, his participation passive, and so you rolled on top of him. Bucky’s hands flexed, wanting to reach out for you, but he gripped the sheets under him to stop himself. His heart was beating hard and he felt light-headed. His cock was incredibly hard just from being gifted your touch. He wanted to roll you under him and bury it in your sweet heat but he stayed still, allowing you to be in control.
When he felt your feather-light touch on his cock, he shuddered. He couldn’t believe this was real. Had you finally come back to him? Did you finally understand that he was just trying to keep you safe? His mind didn’t have long to consider these questions as you straddled him. Positioning his cock at your entrance, you slowly sink down on him. It was the first time in months that you had felt some modicum of enjoyment during sex, that you were choosing it of your own free will. You feel him trembling beneath you and you break your kiss to ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, please don’t stop.” His voice sounds almost panicked.
“Don’t stop this?” You tease, sitting up and flexing your hips.
“Don’t, don’t stop,” he whimpers with his head thrown back.
Bucky is in absolute ecstasy. His cock twitches inside of you with each movement you make. His metal arm whirs as he clenches and unclenches his fists, nearly ripping the sheets. You realize what he’s doing. He’s giving you the power in this. It tugs at your heart a little. He really does care for you. Haltingly, you whisper, “B-Bucky, you can touch me.”
You expected him to grab you, to take over and do with you as he pleased as he had always done. Instead, he looks up at you with love and a hint of apprehension. Slowly, he sits up, staring into your eyes and gently puts his arms around your waist. He presses your bodies together softly and buries his face in your neck. You wrap your arms around him in response and make slow circles with your hips. You stay like that for a long time, just holding each other and enjoying the gentle movement of your bodies. You begin to tremble and clench around his cock as you come, milking him of his orgasm. Still, you stayed wrapped in each other.
“I thought I’d never feel you like this again, doll,” Bucky whispers against your skin. “I love you so much. I’ll never let you go, I promise. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you murmur in his ear. You stare at the chain that still connects you to the bed. The next step was convincing him to let you off your leash. To do that, you’d tell him anything, even that you love him.
Part 4?
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Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction  and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!
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heartsforvin · 18 hours
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UNTOUCHABLE
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bfb is probably one of my favorite tropes 😣 stream bfb by victoria justice 💋
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pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader
warnings: smut, praise, use of pet names, dirty talk, cussing, oral (f receiving), slight choking kink, dom!vinnie, age gap (r’s 19, v’s 22), loss of virginity, slight breeding kink, perv!vinnie, if i missed anything lmk !!
summary: you’re untouchable to vinnie, considering you’re his brothers best friend, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore
a/n: guys i loveee writing perv!vinnie can you tell yet ?? (i can’t help it, i love the idea 🤭)
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he needed you. needed you in every and any way he could get you. he felt wrong, though. almost gross, like he shouldn’t be feeling this way towards you.
you are his brothers best friend, he’s known you for years, that’s one of the reasons why he feels a bit disgusted by himself.
just a bit, though.
you’ve been around since his brother entered the sixth grade, so you have basically grown up with this family. having spent many summers, along with just nights in general with the family.
he’s seen you through puberty, and he can’t lie, once you started filling out and growing more, he couldn’t help but spare a few glances once in awhile.
you’ve always thought nothing of it, always thought that was just the big brother instinct in him — to watch over not only reggie while the two of you hung out, but you as well.
you didn’t realize until around sophomore year of high school though, that it was more of just tiny glances and hand touches.
you thought vinnie was attractive, sure. especially when he got a little older. when the tattoos became a regular addition to his body along with the abs.
you’d never let him know that outright though. part of you always thought he was full of himself.
when you noticed he started gaining fame, you thought he was taking it all to his head.
he’d post those thirst traps, and though you did find them hot when you were sixteen, seventeen, you just thought he was full of it now.
vinnie has always been a bit more touchy with you. always finding an excuse to rub up against you or touch your hand.
you’d always just push him off, telling him to back off before reggie saw and got the wrong impression.
that’s the last thing you needed. for your best friend to know you were into his brother.
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
“need some help, princess?” you heard his voice and immediately rolled your eyes as you planted your heals back on the ground.
it was a hot summer day, and all you wanted to do was hang out with reggie by the pool.
he had asked you to go grab more plastic cups from the house, to which you agreed.
now here you were, standing on your tip toes as you tried to reach the top shelf.
you felt vinnie’s front press against your back, his breath on your ear as he reached his arm to the shelf with ease.
“thanks.” you reply meekly, already over him for the day.
he flashed you a smile before heading back to the stairs, probably back up to his room to play video games.
you made it back outside quickly, not wanting to take too long for reggie to notice you went missing for minutes on end.
the two of you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water as you drank soda in the cups you had just brought out.
you were talking about college and what classes the two of you were taking when you heard the back door open.
turning around, you saw vinnie walk out in only his swim trunks, tattoos on full display.
rolling your eyes, you turned back to your best friend as the two of you continued talking.
about ten minutes later, reggie had mentioned he needed to use the bathroom and that he’ll be out in a minute.
you nodded and set your cup down next to you, watching as vinnie replaced reggie’s spot as soon as the back door shut.
“that a new suit?” he questioned, making you look down to see which one you were wearing.
it was a light pink string bikini. you saw it at target weeks prior and remembered you needed a new suit for the summer.
vinnie’s eyes raked over your body as you sat next to him. he gave a longer glance at your tits, seeing how nice they fit in your top.
his gaze moved down to your thighs, looking at the plush skin and imagining what it’d be like to get in between them.
he wondered a lot of things about you. he had overheard a conversation you had with reggie once, talking about how experienced the two of you were.
it was nothing odd or uncomfortable for you to talk about with the younger sibling, if anything it was normal.
the two of you knew everything about each other, nothing was too off limits or tmi.
so when vinnie heard you had never had sex with anyone, he smiled to himself, hoping he could be the first person to pleasure you.
“what do you want?” your sharp tone broke him out of his thoughts. “reg’s gonna be back in a minute, can’t have him getting the wrong idea.”
if anything he’d probably expect nothing of it, just his best friend and his brother having a normal conversation.
you were terrified of him having the wrong impression on the two of you though. he’s asked you before if you’ve ever had even the slightest crush on his brother, to which you just laughed.
if he had asked you about three years ago, maybe the answer would be yes, but now? hell no.
the touch on your thigh almost made you spit out your drink. “you don’t want that,” vinnie breathed. “i could personally care less of what my brother thinks im doing with anyone.”
you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, placing it in his lap. as soon as you did, you heard the back door open again.
“you guys hungry?” you heard reggie call out, to which you moved quicker than ever.
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
later on that night, you and reggie got ready to chill and watch a movie. you had decided to spend the night last minute, it was a friday night after all so neither of you had classes in the morning.
as you were walking back to reggie’s room from the bathroom, you could’ve sworn you heard what sounded like moaning that came from the eldest boys’ room.
you stopped in front of his door, wondering if you should bust in and interrupt to make fun of him, or to stay here a minute.
you never really imagined vinnie in that way. not often at least. the thought did cross your mind here and there, but you pushed it back.
you didn’t like him. didn’t like how he gawked at you — looked at you like prey. how he was always touching you in some way.
at the same time though, you kind of did like it. no guy had ever really paid any mind to you, and vinnie does.
maybe it was just the male validation you so desperately craved, or maybe you actually did like vinnie.
as you stood there, you could’ve sworn you heard your name fall out of his mouth, which made your eyes go wide.
you contemplated on what you wanted to do. you could easily go back to reggie’s room and apologize for taking too long. or you could fulfill both yours and vinnie’s fantasies.
with a shaky exhale, you slowly pushed the door open and the sight before you made you instantly wet.
there he was, naked from the chest down, his boxers resting on his ankles, as he jerked himself off with your swimsuit top.
it was disgusting, filthy even, but for some reason you found it so hot in this moment.
you don’t even remember where you had put your suit after the swim earlier. either way, vinnie found it and decided to put it to use.
you just stood there, unable to move as you watched his fist move rapidly with your swimsuit top in hand, watching, listening to the noises he made.
“s-shit princess, yeah just like that.” you heard him say, making you clench around nothing.
when his eyes opened that’s when you gasped, covering your mouth in case it was too loud.
vinnie didn’t even hesitate to try and put on his boxers or even cover himself with a blanket.
“what are you doing in here, sweetheart?” his tone was low, gaze fixated on you and your sleep shirt.
you wore shorts underneath but they were short, so it went unnoticed. when vinnie saw your bare legs, he smiled.
you didn’t answer him, feeling embarrassed for even being in here at all. you felt dirty.
“come here,” vinnie said as he threw your cum-stained swimsuit top on the ground. “come sit on my lap, baby.”
you smiled, a rush of energy and confidence running through you now. you always wondered deep down what it’d be like to be on his lap, in his arms.
he had draped a blanket over his half-hard dick. no doubt it’ll be back to its hard state in a matter of seconds.
you straddled the man’s lap, your hands around his neck while his rested on your ass. your shirt rose up so your shorts were now visible.
“kinda hoped you were only wearin’ panties under this,” he chuckled as he smacked your ass. “would love to see those cute ones, y’know with the strawberries on ‘em?”
you blush, having packed those exact ones for tomorrow morning when you went back to your house to get a change of clothes.
his grip on you tightens, he’s got you where he’s wanted you for months now.
“or,” he starts, moving closer to your ear, kissing right under it softly. “that black thong you have. god, is that hot.”
you can’t believe this is happening. reggie would kill you if he found out vinnie laid a finger on you in this sort of situation.
“vinnie,” you whine as he moves you against his lap, your cunt grinding against his cock. “please.”
he smirks. “please what?” he asks as he leans in, mouths almost touching.
you squirm on him, making vinnie grip you a bit harder to keep you in place. “need you, want you.”
vinnie smiles before he places his lips on yours. the kiss turns hungry fast, hands roaming each others bodies as your tongues meet together.
“switch with me,” he says before lifting you off his lap. you stand on the ground as he does the same. “lay on the bed.”
you do as told, laying on the bed fully clothed while he stays how he is. once your head meets his pillow, vinnie climbs back on the bed and hovers over you.
he kisses your neck, making sure to leave marks even if you protest. he makes his way down to your collarbone and is soon tugging at the collar of your shirt.
your eyes widen as he takes the shirt off of you without even asking. he smirks as he looks up at you. “no bra, huh?” he asks.
you blush, even though you shouldn’t be embarrassed for being comfortable, there’s a part of you that is.
vinnie see’s your eyes shift and brings his hand up to your cheek, caressing it softly. you smile and lean into his touch.
without any warning he’s got his mouth planting kisses all down your chest and to your stomach. you grab his hair and tug at the feeling of his lips on your skin.
when he makes it to your shorts, he looks up at you and asks if he can take them off along with your panties.
you nod but then give him the verbal confirmation, he wastes no time pulling them off you.
“look at you,” his tone is deep, making chills run down your body. “already so wet f’me.” he says, slowly dragging a finger through your folds.
you whimper at the contact, grabbing his hair and tugging as his finger swipes against you.
you watch as he lowers himself on the bed, laying flat against his chest, his face now mere inches from where you need him.
all your nerves are gone, as if you aren’t scared for what’s about to come and how to handle everything.
vinnie smiles up at you before he dives in, sucking on your clit as you tug at the locks of his hair.
“taste so good, pretty,” he moans into you, making you whine in pleasure. “such a good girl for me.”
the praise goes straight to your head as you feel vinnie grip your thighs, holding you in place.
as his tongue continues to suck on your clit, he slides his index finger along your folds before pushing it into you.
a loud moan rips from your throat but vinnie’s quick to clamp a hand over your mouth, shushing you.
“don’t want reggie to get the wrong impression now, do we?” he asks, referring to what you told him earlier.
you shake your head, his hand still covering your mouth. he smiles as he removes the tattooed hand away from you, lifting his head to kiss you softly.
his mouth is on your sensitive pussy once again, with his index finger curling inside you, making you close your legs around him.
vinnie groans as he pushes your legs open again, he continues his actions before he feels the grip on his hair tighten.
“v-vinnie,” you moan softly, feeling a knot in your lower belly tighten. “baby.”
his gaze reaches you, he knows what’s coming and his movements quickened. you tighten your legs around his head, gripping the sheets as you moan profanities.
you try your best to stay as quiet as you can, but it’s no use once you feel yourself release on the man’s face below you.
vinnie smiles as he catches every ounce, lifting up and leaning on his elbows as he looks up at you.
“thanks for the warning, princess.” vinnie chuckles as he pushes himself up to hover over you.
you blush with a slight smile, suddenly feeling nervous now that the real thing might happen.
vinnie gives you a sweet smile, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “what’s wrong?”
the question is genuine, throwing you off since he’s usually not like that with you.
“i’m a virgin,” you say quietly, lowering your head. vinnie lifts your chin with his index finger, kissing you softly.
“i can’t promise you i’ll be gentle, you know how bad ive been wanting this.” he tells you truthfully.
you nod, knowing already that if this were to happen he’d definitely not be the slightest bit of gentle with you.
he gives you a look to ask if you’re ready, you nod but also let out a quiet but audible ‘yes’ to let him know.
he kisses you roughly before pulling back and positioning himself to enter you.
once he does, you gasp at the feeling of having him inside you. he waits a minute for you to adjust before he starts moving.
he grips your hips, thrusting hard into you as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust.
he smiles. he’s been wanting this for so long now, cant believe he’s finally got you where he wanted you.
“fuck vin, you’re so big.” you moan, watching as vinnie gives you a smirk.
he moves his hand to grab yours, bringing it down to your lower tummy. “you feel that, pretty girl? that’s all me, fillin’ you up so good, yeah?”
you whimper at the feeling of having his cock inside you. you grab his hand and squeeze tightly.
“feel good, huh? like havin’ my cock inside you, baby? feeling me everywhere?” he asks, knowing the answer already.
you nod with a soft moan followed by it, trying your best to not be so loud no matter how good it feels.
the pain subsided and turned to pleasure, making you feel like you were on cloud nine.
as vinnie’s thrusts became quicker, you watched as his hand slid from your hip to your throat in a matter of seconds, applying pressure.
he saw you smile and applied a bit more pressure. “you like that, don’t you?” he asks.
you try to nod the best you can, vinnie leans in to kiss you and you immediately meet him, kissing back with just as much need as he is you.
he watches you pull apart from his lips and start to move your hand down to your clit.
“nuh, uh,” he smacks your hand away. “i’m not done with you yet.”
before you can speak, he’s flipping you over so you’re on top now. you’ve never been in this position so he helps you guide yourself on him.
“yeah, just like that, good girl.” he praises when he feels you clench around him. “fuck you feel amazing.”
you soon catch on and give yourself a rhythm, bouncing on him with ease while vinnie grabs your tits and squeezes them in his palms.
“been wanting to get my hands on these for so long, y’know that, sweet girl?” he tells you as he lowers his mouth to your chest.
he takes your right breast into his mouth and sucks, definitely leaving marks. he gives the left one the same attention after.
“vinnie.” you moan, throwing your head back at the feeling of his mouth on your chest.
he watches you ride him, completely obsessed of the sight in front of him. as much as your swimsuit top was doing wonders for him, actually being inside you is definitely better.
vinnie squeezes your tits once more before gripping your hips again. “god you feel so good sweetheart,” he groans. “wanna fill you up, put a baby in you.”
he doesn’t even register what he says, just spewing words, feeling way too good in the moment.
you however do register what he said. “want it vin,” you whine out.
he smirks, gliding his thumbs against the plush of your thighs. “yeah, you want me to knock you up? have my babies? bet you someone would be very mad if they found out.”
you know who he’s talking about but right now you don’t care. the euphoria completely washes over all the fear from you.
his thrusts become faster and harsher, making you hold onto his shoulders for support. your head dips to rest in the crook of his neck while his hands move to cup your ass.
he bounces you on him, moans erupting from both of you as your highs near.
vinnie’s hand moves from your ass to your clit, rubbing harsh circles. “gonna cum, sweet girl. you’re gonna cum with me, ‘kay?”
you nod, a loud moan slipping from your lips at the pressure of his harsh rubs.
“almost baby, come on,” he urges, you continue your movements, scratching his back as you do. “fuck, sweetheart i’m there.”
before you can confirm that you are too, you’re already spilling out of him as he spills into you. he pushes himself into more, smirking as he does.
“gotta make sure it says in there if you want it to work, right?” he asks, to which you just sleepily nod.
the two of you stay connected for a minute before vinnie decides to pull out of you. you whine at the loss of contact to which he kisses your forehead.
you fall onto his bed with a loud sigh, smiling at the man next to you while he wraps his arms around you.
“do you think he heard?” you ask quietly.
vinnie stays silent for a moment, before saying, “you’re probably gonna have to have a long talk with him. me and you.” he explains.
you sigh, not wanting to deal or even think about the talk you’re gonna have to have with your best friend in the morning.
he sees your frustration and holds you tighter, kissing your cheek. you smile.
you want to ask the question but it’s probably dumb and he’ll probably just laugh, thinking you’re just some naïve kid.
you decide to stay silent, basking in this moment of being in his arms right now.
“goodnight, vinnie.” you say quietly as you nuzzle into his chest.
he smiles, hugging you tighter. “goodnight, princess.” he responds, kissing your head.
you hoped this wouldn’t be the last time you got to feel his touch.
HEYYYYY I LOVED THIS 🤗🤗 sorry if it’s so damn long, i had so much fun writing it !!!
i hope you all liked it as much as I did, pls lmk cus i LOVE yalls feedback (unless you don’t like it, keep that shit to yourself LMAO)
tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @forevergirlposts , @bernelflo , @slvthrs , @visualbutterflysworld , @leqonsluv3r , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @violet0182 , @hallecarey1 , @kayleighh , @laylasbunbunny , @louloulemons-blog , @st4rswrld , @kriissy4gov
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𓆩⟡𓆪𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎!?𓆩⟡𓆪
Yan!Reader x Yan!Dazai
One-Shot Fiction
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────
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Summary: You had a dream he was cheating on you! But was it true?
Dazai, he is a former port mafia executive. Dazai, he is a current armed detective agency member. Dazai who hates pain, hates dogs, and especially hates his former partner in the mafia, Chuuya Nakahara. Dazai, who likes crabs, likes the idea of suicide, and likes alcohol. Dazai who was your boyfriend. Yours only. He was the only thing on your mind. Every single corner, every single thought, anything, would be connected to him someway and somehow.
✧. ┊Want to continue?
Dazai, he is a former port mafia executive. Dazai, he is a current armed detective agency member. Dazai who hates pain, hates dogs, and especially hates his former partner in the mafia, Chuuya Nakahara. Dazai, who likes crabs, likes the idea of suicide, and likes alcohol. Dazai who was your boyfriend. Yours only. He was the only thing on your mind. Every single corner, every single thought, anything, would be connected to him someway and somehow.
Ever since the day you both first met, you knew he was the one for you. You wanted him. No. You NEEDED him. So, you started collecting his belongings, it started with a document he just tossed away, then strands of his hair, chewed gum, and anything else you could get your hands on. You hid a wiretap on his clothes once, he found it cute and amusing because he hid a wiretap on you too. Did you know he hid one on you? No.
It's currently 10 in the evening, stars sparkled outside in the ink dark sky. You, as per usual, are on your bed chatting with your boyfriend through *insert any social media app*. It got your heart pounding faster and faster whenever he replied within seconds to your message. Notification after notification, you couldn't get your eyes off the screen. On the other side of the screen was Dazai, watching you through a camera he hid in your house. Pictures of you were plastered all over his room walls, and aside from that. Mostly nothing else could be found.
Your eyelids started to get heavy, you couldn't fight the feeling of drowsiness coming over you. Before you could pass out you decided to send one last message to Dazai. "I love you, Dazai. I love you so much that I want stab any woman who would try to talk to you." How endearing, this is why he loved you.
"I love you so much that I want to destroy any man who lays eyes on you." Was the last thing you read before dozing off.
"Impossible! I was taking pictures of you through your window!!!" He passed you his phone which was generosly unlocked for you. Quickly, you found the contacts app. You were the only one in his contacts. Good. That means he prioritized you over work. Next, you opened his gallery. It was you. You were the only thing in his gallery, and he wasn't lying. You scrolled through the pictures of you that he took through your window last night with a look of satisfaction. "That's actually... So sweet!!" You hugged him tightly clasping your arms around him full of affection and he did the same too. The other members of the Agency, who have been watching the whole thing were... Weirded out to say the least...
The doors of the Armed Detective Agency slammed to reveal a very furious and irritated figure, which was you. The Agency wasn't really surprised to see that you were the one at the door, you always did just to see Dazai. Your grip tightened around the knife in your hand as you advanced towards Dazais table. You drove the sharp object into the wood of the table forcibly which gained his attention. Dazai glances at the knife and then at you. "Oh, hey [Name]... What's wrong?" He asks.
"... I had a dream where you were cheating on me. Explain." You looked him dead in the eye.
"Whaaatttt?"
"Explain." You repeated. How could he? Especially in your dreams.
END
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geekgirles · 3 days
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The Doll and the Dragon
Chapter 4: A Lesson in Humility
Word Count: 15,747
Read on AO3
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Chapter summary: "With Yugo unavailable to spend time with her, Amalia makes a daring request: that she be allowed to attend to Glip and Baltazar's classes. The question is, will she be able to keep up with one of the Council members least willing to accept her? And what will she be able to gain from going to class in the first place? Perhaps, this will turn out to be a learning experience for not just her, after all."
Was it weird to feel that after an experience that should have brought you closer to someone the distance between the two of you was greater than ever?
Because Amalia would be lying if she said that wasn’t how she was feeling at the moment. 
She really couldn’t make sense of it, no matter how much she tossed and turned at night trying to decipher it. And by ‘it’ she meant Yugo. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something had changed ever since their little excursion to the beach. The doll had already grown accustomed to his mercurial moods—sometimes he would be nothing but sweet and kind to her, other times, it was as if the mere thought of standing close to her was enough to freeze him on the spot. But given that was how he’d been acting since they first met, Amalia just figured that was just how he was, so she really didn’t think twice about it. 
Things didn’t seem to be quite so simple as of late. 
Yugo still treated her cordially and his manners when interacting with her were impeccable, befitting how a king like himself should treat a lady. However, perhaps, he was just a tad too polite? While the Eliatrope never went out of his way to be rude to her, he did go above and beyond to ensure he wasn’t too familiar, either. Not that long ago, he wouldn’t hesitate to take Amalia’s hand, especially if he sensed she could use some comfort; before either of them realised it, the distance between them would gradually grow smaller; and the Divine Doll could have sworn there was this undeniable fondness in his eyes whenever he looked at her. 
And yet, soon after they returned from their little adventure, all that perceived intimacy had gone up in smoke. In fact, she would dare to say the strangest thing was how she could feel it was all still there, even when it wasn’t; it was almost as if Yugo were holding back. 
She saw it in the strained curl of his lips, how it appeared as if he were physically forcing the smile out of his face, or at least, forcing the genuine happiness out of it. More than once, surely when the king thought she wasn’t looking, the doll caught sight of his hands making the motion of reaching out for her from the corner of her eye, only for him to then tuck them close to his body, denying them any movement. It was in the way he tended to linger by her side, only to seemingly snap out of whatever trance he found himself in and excuse himself for the day. 
Bringing her arms around herself for comfort, Amalia had to suppress a groan. It was all so confusing! How was it possible that he could act like that after their adventure, while she had actually felt closer to him than ever? Not only did they go out to explore, but thanks to Adamaï she learned that day the two of them shared a strong wanderlust. They had discussed all kinds of topics under the sun, from whatever few memories she had of her time in Inglorium, to the Eliatrope siblings' high intake of red meat. 
And they’d learned so much about each other, too! Amalia learned how going through an Eliatrope portal felt like—and subsequently swore to never experience that again—, and about Eliatrope dragons being shapeshifters. Meanwhile, Yugo (and by extension Adamaï) learned all about her connection to nature and how certain actions against plant-life could inadvertently cause her pain, as well as her own brand of shapeshifting-based tailoring. 
Moreover, Yugo had explained what love—or, more accurately, romantic love—was, and now she knew she had one more new experience to look forward to. 
Everything had been so perfect then, so why did everything feel so wrong now?
Truth be told, the Divine Doll sensed something wasn’t right the moment the Eliatrope King hastily told them they should return to the palace, his tone sounding almost desperate as he broke the quiet that had fallen over them in the afternoon sun. Said feeling only grew as they made their way back to the palace and Yugo didn’t so much as utter a word the whole time. 
At the time she had been too overjoyed by the whole experience to really dig into it, the optimistic, foolish part of herself shrugging his uncharacteristically quiet demeanour off as just Yugo being in another one of his moods. He’d be as good as new the next day. 
Said hope that things would go back to normal soon was dashed the next morning when, for the first time since redecorating her chambers, Yugo didn’t go pick her up. Despite the initial disappointment, Amalia tried to reason with herself by pointing out his royal duties probably got in the way. It was only a matter of days before said disappointment turned into hurt when she realised he was purposely avoiding her. Not only did he not bother to go see her most days, but the few times he did let himself be seen by her, the Divine Doll could feel the growing distance between them chilling her to the bone despite Oma’s tropical temperatures, his demeanour nothing like the king’s whose friendship she’d come to hold so dear.
She was especially heartbroken to realise he had even put a stop to their little routine, as several days had passed since he last trained in front of her balcony. Whispers and murmurs running down the halls, her only way of knowing the Eliatrope King had seemingly gone back to the training grounds alongside his siblings. 
Amalia would be lying if she said she hadn’t been surprised to discover the palace even had training grounds of its own. But that was beside the point. 
The point was, the same loneliness she had been feeling soon after her arrival at Oma Island was back, only this time it wasn’t caused by a room she couldn’t quite call her own, but because the one person Amalia thought she could call her friend was nowhere to be seen, and when they were together, it still felt like she was all alone. 
Even when she wandered around the palace halls, always crowded with servants and other Eliatropes, it was as if no one was there. No. Worse. If all felt as if she wasn’t there at all. 
Was it possible to never be by yourself yet you always felt alone?
Much like the last time she felt like this, Amalia’s one saving grace was getting to explore the palace. It was the only thing she could really do on her own, after all. There was no doubt in her mind she would not be allowed outside again unless Yugo acted as her escort, something she honestly doubted would happen anyway given how the Eliatrope seemed so adamant on keeping her at arm’s length. Surely another day-long field trip would be off the table. 
But more than anything, this time around she felt drawn to Glip and Baltazar’s classroom, her feet practically moving on their own accord and taking her in front of the large doors separating her from the Eliatrope siblings and the lessons they imparted behind them. Even if she couldn’t make out half of the things they said, the Divine Doll remained glued to those doors, her ears straining to absorb as much information as possible. It wasn’t mere curiosity anymore, but a genuine desire to learn that was only fuelled by Glip and Baltazar’s way of teaching. 
It was incredible how such a little, anger-prone man could imbue such passion into the things he talked about, each phrase that left his mouth helping to craft a perfectly vivid image—when he wasn’t barking out instructions on how to perform a certain move, that is. And Baltazar was always there to add his own two kamas and add the remaining details to the story. When he wasn’t the one giving the lesson, of course. Just by listening to them talk was enough for Amalia to be transported to a whole other world, one she’d never even been to but that already felt like her own—and that was just from listening to a heavily water-down version of those stories!
She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it’d be like to attend one of those classes and get the whole picture for once. 
Just then, at the same time as Baltazar was retelling a tale about a time the Council of Six had to step in because a town’s cruel governor had died under mysterious circumstances, only for everyone in his town to insist it had been the town itself that killed him, the true extent of her thought process hit Amalia. 
Clenching her fists against the door, her big, brown eyes glinted in determination as her resolve grew. As Yugo explained to her when he asked her if she wanted to go on an adventure around Oma Island, this was now her home, she was entitled to knowing her way around it. And considering she would also be living alongside the Eliatrope people for who knew how long despite being a Sadida Doll, then she figured she also had a right to know more about the race surrounding her. Moreover, if Yugo wasn’t there to help her like he said he would, then she figured she should ask the experts for help. 
Then again, Yugo was still the king, while she was ‘just’ a guest—a guest sent there directly by the gods, true, but she probably wouldn’t be able to milk that moogrr forever—, so protocol dictated she asked for his permission first. And so, for the first time since she first discovered her new pastime, Amalia tore herself away from the door even before class had been dismissed. Her step was firm and assured as she walked down the hallways in search of the Eliatrope King, the pants clinging to her skin giving her the mobility she needed. And by Sadida she would get him to listen to her before he tried to evade her yet again!
It was high time she got to attend at least one of Glip and Baltazar’s classes. 
........................................................................................................................
She found him just as he exited the throne room. Apparently, he had been listening to his people’s problems and grievances and looking for ways to solve them as quickly and efficiently as possible. Catching the tail-end of a conversation about some issue in particular Yugo couldn’t solve on his own, Amalia learned those kinds of problems were seemingly the ones the entire Council of Six deliberated on. 
Not even that much time had passed since she made up her mind about attending class and she was already learning a lot. Amalia chose to count that as a sign she made the right call. 
Yugo and Adamaï were immersed in conversation, discussing preliminary ideas on how to approach some of their people’s requests when the sound of someone clearing their throat startled them. It looked like they missed one person, that sometimes happened. 
Not even looking at whom he was talking to, Yugo cleared his own throat. “My apologies. I’m afraid I must have not seen you. Tell me, what can I do for you?” When he finally laid his eyes on the person he was talking to, he idly wondered how come he hadn’t seen her.
Despite her resolve to be firm on her request regardless of Yugo’s weird behaviour as of late, any harshness in her gaze vanished at the almost frightened look on the Eliatrope’s face at the sight of her. Trying to ignore the painful pang in her chest at his reaction, Amalia couldn’t help but drape one arm over her abdomen, trying to offer herself some comfort. Her brown gaze turned unsure and evasive, and she kept shifting in place, nervous of the incoming conversation. 
After what felt like an eternity, she finally found her voice. “Good morning, Yugo.” She bit her lip as she chanced a look his way. She allowed a small smile to grace her features. “And good morning to you as well, Adamaï.”
While the dragon answered with a nod and a smile of his own, he glanced over at his brother, waiting for his reaction. Finally, Yugo seemed to collect himself, squaring his features into a stoic mask and straightening his posture right before greeting the doll back, “Good morning, Amalia. It’s good to see you.”
The Divine Doll had to bite her lip to stop herself from accusing him of lying to her face. Instead, she said, “Yeah, you too.”
Despite herself, it really wasn’t a lie at all. 
However, greetings and small talk only get you so far, a heavy silence falling over the three of them as Yugo and Amalia couldn’t bring themselves to make the first move and speak. Eyes darting back and forth between the two and sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere—the tension was so thick he could’ve cut it with one of his claws—, it was up to Adamaï to awkwardly break the ice. 
“Is everything alright, Amalia?” He asked, offering her a small smile to put her at ease. 
The green-haired beauty let out an almost inaudible gasp, so consumed by her concerns she almost forgot why she had even come looking for Yugo in the first place. Blinking twice, she had a little trouble finding the words at first, “I-I… Um, well, you see… I…I just wanted to…to ask Yugo something.” She managed to stammer out. 
Inside, however, she was groaning in desperation. Not that long ago, conversation with Yugo was as easy as breathing! How come trying to get the words out now was harder than taking a kama from an Enutrof?!
Her confession took the king aback. “R-really? You  came all the way here because you wanted to ask me something?” While he did his best to remain nonchalant, deep inside he was bracing himself for the worst. Even if he knew what he was doing was for their own sake, a part of him wasn’t ready to be confronted by Amalia about it. 
Not just yet. And, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, maybe not ever.
Which was why he had to do a double take when Amalia admitted instead, “I wish to be able to attend Glip and Baltazar’s classes as a student.” Then, she added, a bit more timidly, “If that’s okay, of course.”
Just as he was about to let out a sigh of relief, the full extent of what the Divine Doll had just asked for hit him. “I’m sorry, you what?”
This time, Amalia stood a little taller, her voice a little clearer as she clenched her fists at her sides in determination. “I want to receive lessons from Glip and Baltazar.” She stated. 
The Eliatrope siblings exchanged awkward glances. The implications behind Amalia’s request making them sweat. 
“How do you know Glip and Baltazar are teachers?” Adamaï asked. 
At that, she grew a little sheepish. A small blush on her cheeks as she fidgeted with her fingers, she looked away. “Well… Um, remember when you asked me why I was always out and about around the palace?”
Both nodded, and even if that conversation had been up to Yugo, Adamaï still remembered quite vividly the very animated council reunion it caused. 
“One day, I stumbled across their classroom while class was in session during one of my little escapades.” The doll admitted sheepishly. She thought it’d be better to omit how she had half-listened to one lesson and hadn’t been able to bring herself to stop since. 
On the outside, Yugo looked like he was paying rapt attention to what Amalia said, but on the inside he was positively freaking out. Oh, this was bad. Very bad. Amalia wishing to go to class and learn more could result in unforeseeable consequences. Or even worse. It could result in the very consequences Efrim had been so paranoid about—Amalia acting as an undercover agent for the gods and trying to find out their secrets. 
The fact that Glip himself wasn’t exactly one of her most ardent supporters only complicated matters. 
Already fearing for the worst, Yugo scrambled to find a way to dissuade the Sadida Doll without making it too obvious he didn’t want her to learn more about his people. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
For now, he was off to a terrible start. 
If having Adamaï staring owlishly at him wasn’t bad enough, Amalia’s little offended pout only put the last nail on the coffin. 
“Why not?” She asked, an eyebrow raised. 
“Because…” the Eliatrope began, flashing his brother a pleading look and cursing under his breath when the dragon raised his claws up in a ‘Leave me out of this’ fashion. Resisting the urge to narrow his eyes at his sibling, he finally settled for the teacher’s most prominent flaw. “Because Glip has a terrible temper.” He blurted out, before regaining some confidence. “And he is very strict, too. Trust me, you don’t want to have your marks graded by him. If it were up to him, none of his students would pass unless they studied day and night.”
“But it’s not up to him. Baltazar is also a teacher and they work together.” Amalia pointed out, not missing a beat. 
Feeling his eye twitch, Yugo felt the mighty need to scream into a pillow due to her very astute, very accurate observation. 
“That’s true, but still, their classes can be very demanding…”
“But I want to learn!” Amalia exclaimed, her eyes big and pleading. “I’m tired of only half-listening to their lessons through closed doors, I want to have the full picture.”
“Wait, how long have you been eavesdropping on them…?” Adamaï tried to ask, but was ignored. 
“And that’s commendable, Amalia, really!” Yugo tried to assure her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. A second later, however, upon noticing what he had just done, he tucked it away as fast as if he’d been burned. He was so busy trying to regain some semblance of control, he missed the way the doll’s eyes dimmed at his actions. Or Adamaï’s frown. “It’s just…”
“What?” She cut him off, her tone challenging. “What’s so bad about me wanting to learn more about your people?”
Everything. 
So far, Amalia’s curiosity about the world around her had been child-like and innocent, the kind you’d expect from a stranger in a brand new place. The kind of curiosity and wonder he felt for the world around him. But if she started asking questions about his people… Then he would no longer be able to convince his siblings she wasn’t up to something. He wouldn’t be able to convince himself she wasn’t a threat. And even though in the past he’d had no qualms confronting or even getting rid of what he thought might put his people’s safety in jeopardy, for some reason, when it came to Amalia, he couldn’t bear the thought of cutting her off for good. 
He blamed his people’s need to get in this world’s gods’ good graces for making him hesitate. 
And for making him realise he couldn’t just say he wouldn’t allow her to study with Glip and Baltazar because she couldn’t be trusted. 
So he lied through his teeth. “Because only children attend their classes; when Eliatropes reach a certain age, they choose their own path, be it battle, crafts, medicine… Won’t you feel a little uncomfortable being the only adult in a room full of kids?”
“Glip and Baltazar are adults too.” Amalia shrugged, not missing a beat. She raised an eyebrow at him, however. “And didn’t you just say it would be very demanding? If anything, that would only mean it’s closer to my level than the kids’.”
Cursing how easily his words could be turned against him—and making it a point to dig his heel into Adamaï’s foot when he heard him snicker at his misfortune—, Yugo found himself floundering for words. “Well, yeah… But, um… you see… I…”
“Please, Yugo.” She cut him off, her voice desperate. Despite her apprehension and the weird phase their relationship was going through, Amalia mustered up the courage to step a little closer to him, her body leaning in with her hands clasped before her chest. Pleading, begging for him to listen to what she had to say. “You told me it was only natural I learned my way around Oma Island if this is going to be my home from now on. Don’t you think that should apply to your people, too?
“Not only am I a Sadida surrounded by Eliatropes and dragons, I’m the only Divine Doll currently inhabiting this world!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms to her sides to emphasise her point. “I’m going to be living with your people for the gods know how long, much like with the island, I need to know things about you, like your traditions, and what you consider sacred, things I must and mustn’t do… As I am right now, even the little kids Glip and Baltazar teach know so much more than I do! Please, Yugo, please! This isn’t about me just being curious, this is about me needing to learn, for my own sake.”
Her eyes were almost watery when she finished, her voice at the verge of breaking, “Please, tell me you will at least consider it.”
If Yugo was already having a hard time trying to remain firm and put his foot down in the face of Amalia going above and beyond to tug at his heartstrings, Adamaï's disapproving look at his refusal pushed him over the edge. Despite all he had been doing to ensure he wouldn’t get too close to Amalia and she wouldn’t get too close to him, it was plain to see he had much work to do if he wanted to be free of her influence.
Defeated, he drew a deep exhale through his nose. “I’ll ask Glip and Baltazar next time I see them, alright? After all, it’s their class. They have the last say in everything concerning it.”
Her reaction was immediate.
“Really?!” She exploded, her eyes shining like stars in the midnight sky at the good news. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you so much, Yugo!”
The Divine Doll was beyond herself with joy. Sure, she still needed Glip and Baltazar’s permission, but she was already one step closer to her goal! Amalia was so overjoyed, she couldn’t help herself and practically threw herself at Yugo’s arms, the pull to hug him tightly as thanks stronger than she was. 
But just as she was about to wrap her arms around him in celebration, she was abruptly stopped by two strong hands resting firmly on her shoulders. Eyes snapping open at the unexpected action, she glanced up, a painful pang in her chest at the sight of Yugo looking supremely uncomfortable as he tried to keep her at bay. 
Memories of the last few days rushing back, Amalia quickly took a step back and away from the king. Making a show of dusting off her outfit and willing the blush away from her cheeks, mortified, she cleared her throat. “Um, uh, thank you, Yugo.” She coughed into her hand. 
“You’re welcome, Amalia. I’ll see what I can do.” Was Yugo’s equally awkward response, his throat tightening up.
Moving back and forth on the heel of her feet, she eventually pointed behind her. “I… Um, I should probably go. I’m sure you’re quite busy. Uh, thanks again and, you know, see ya! You too Adamaï.”
As the two waved awkwardly at each other, turning around and resolutely making their way to opposite directions of the palace, Adamaï watched it all with a critical eye. As he stared at his brother’s retreating back, replaying what had just taken place as well as the past few days’ events in his mind, the dragon narrowed his eyes. 
He had a very bad feeling about this. The kind of feeling that told him Yugo would come to regret whatever he was doing very soon.
........................................................................................................................
“Nope. Absolutely not. Not gonna happen. I forbid it.”
Yugo had half the mind not to slam his head against the table in exasperation. It was one thing that Glip refused to teach Amalia, but his doing so this vehemently, to the point of crossing his arms and deliberately shaking his head to get his point across, was just unnecessary. 
It took even more of him not to slam Qilby against the table for what he said next:
“Did anybody else notice all we ever talk about when we meet up as of late is Yugo’s precious flower?” He pointed out, one finger raised and his characteristically smug smirk on his lips. 
“Meh, it beats having to listen to you bring up our 97th reincarnation and how Chibi and Grougal’s first spaceship prototype blew up in their faces.” Phaeris shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Luckily for him, it was the aforementioned inventors’ turn to patrol the island, so he wouldn’t get in hot water with them for making fun of their scientific pursuits. 
The peeved snarl curling at Qilby’s lip at his dragon brother’s quip was a welcomed reminder as to why Mina and Phaeris were the king’s favourite siblings after Adamaï. While they always knew how to break up their infighting and childish bickering, Phaeris in particular had the added divine gift of always knowing how to get under the bespectacled Eliatrope’s skin. 
It really was the sweetest payback after all his relentless teasing. 
“That actually happened in our 79th reincarnation and you know it!” Qilby snapped, his hazel eyes narrowing at his brother behind his glasses. On the table, his fists clenched in aggravation even after Shinonomé placed a hand on them to calm her twin down. 
“Don’t start up again, you two.” The red dragoness admonished, tired of the same old song and dance. “We have much more urgent matters to attend to, like Lady Amalia’s request.” She reminded them, her tone kind but serious. 
“They can spend all day bickering as far as I’m concerned, because I already made my stance on allowing the Divine Doll near any of my classes clear.” Glip groused, his arms still folded over his chest stubbornly as he stuck up his nose in indignation. 
They were currently gathered around the Eliaculus at the council room once again, Yugo having called for a meeting as soon as he’d been done listening to his subjects’ grievances for the day. It was something they usually did. Whenever the king was faced with a problem he couldn’t solve on his own, he summoned his siblings at the council room to tackle the issue together and find a solution to it. The fact that this time the reunion also came immediately after Amalia made her request was a very beneficial coincidence for the Sadida Doll. 
And a very unfortunate one for Yugo. 
“And you’d be wise to refuse her request, Glip.” Efrim chimed in, his long tail curled around his lithe body even as he rested on his chair. Without warning, he jabbed a claw on the table. “It’s one thing we allow her to roam freely around our palace or our island, but letting her learn more about us directly from the source?” He scoffed at the mere thought, before sniffing derisively, “What’s next, sending her to Chibi and Grougal’s laboratory so she can learn how to build a weapon to kill us all? I say we’d better not take any chances.”
Massaging his temples in an attempt to soothe his pounding headache, Yugo bit his lip as to not point out that Chibi and Grougal would actually be ecstatic to have a willing audience as they worked on their projects. Or the fact that, technically speaking, Amalia still wasn’t allowed to leave the palace premises without him, so she couldn’t explore the island freely, either. That would only earn him a glare from Efrim, and he was not in the mood for arguing with him. 
“Not only that,” Glip added, nodding along. “My students are young, it already takes everything in my power to get them to pay attention on their worst days, imagine what would happen if the Divine Doll were to join us; my class would fall into anarchy!”
Under the table, Yugo couldn't help but clench his fists until his knuckles turned white at the teacher’s words. Outrage on Amalia’s behalf bubbling up within him. That feeling only got worse at what he said next:
“Besides, even if they are disorganised, they are still my students. We’re very advanced on our syllabus, she would only lag behind.” He let out a low chuckle as he proceeded to examine his cane absentmindedly, as if the mere topic at hand bored him. “Better save her the embarrassment of being the only adult in a group of children who doesn’t know the most basic aspects of Eliatrope society.”
The king knew his brother could be quite brusque and ill-tempered, not to mention arrogant in his own abilities, but the way he was disregarding their guest was simply uncalled for. Amalia did not deserve to be looked down like that when all she wanted to do was learn. Fortunately, before he had the chance to tell Glip any of that, Baltazar mercifully beat him to it:
“The only reason she doesn’t know, Glip, is because she is a Sadida Doll.” The dragon pointed out from his spot behind his sibling, where he rested lying on the floor. “You cannot expect someone so young and from an entirely different culture to immediately know everything about ours, especially if you refuse to teach her.” 
Pretending to lower his head in a nod, Yugo took advantage of the way his hood came to cover most of his face to allow a small, grateful smile to plaster itself on his lips. He could always count on Baltazar to reign his twin brother in. 
Despite his large size, Baltazar was arguably the least imposing of the Eliatrope dragons. Unlike the rest, who flaunted lithe yet robust forms and an impressive wingspan, Baltazar, much like his twin, was comparatively stumpy. His body was distinctly barrel-shaped, with thick limbs and tail, but stubby wings and horns. Truth be told, more than once the siblings found themselves wondering how they withstood his weight whenever he flew. Their best bet was that it had to be his own special gift.
Baltazar stood out in many other ways as well. His scales were a very light beige, with darker-coloured spots covering his form from head to tail. His snout was as square-shaped as his twin’s face, and the pair also shared their bushy eyebrows, however, unlike Glip’s chesnut-coloured hair and goatee, Baltazar sported a rather unkempt white beard, which gave him a grandfatherly look even back when they were all children. 
It wasn’t like the look provided by his beard wasn't appropriate, though, for while Glip could be strict, easy to anger, and very grumpy, Baltazar was much calmer, more patient—especially with the kids—, and  very kind. Even if he actually wasn’t the eldest sibling, he really did play the role of grandfather perfectly. So it wasn't a surprise that he was usually the one tasked with reeling his brother’s worst impulses in.
Unfortunately, while his comment gave Glip some pause, he apparently still had much to say. 
“Perhaps, dear brother.” The shortest Eliatrope started, his lips pursed. “But precisely because she is from a completely different race, there’s not much I can teach her. Remember? I specialise in teaching Wakfung—I cannot teach someone who doesn’t project wakfu like we do.” 
“Thank the Great Goddess for that!” Efrim chimed in sarcastically. “Can you imagine the disaster it would be if she discovered the flaws in our fighting style?”
“Efrim, please. Let’s hear what Baltazar has to say.” Nora whispered to him, almost pleadingly, a hint of concern in her voice. She loved her brother and understood better than anyone his desire to be careful, but she was starting to grow worried over his growing hostility towards Amalia. Each passing day, he sounded less like the brother she so adored and more like a complete stranger.
Purposely ignoring the youngest twins’ conversation, Baltazar pressed on, not missing a beat. “That does not mean she cannot learn about our history or our customs, Brother. You may specialise in Wakfung, but Baltazar doesn't.” Raising one paw from the ground, he proudly pointed between the two of them to emphasise his point. 
That was another key difference between the two siblings. While they weren’t above working together to lecture their students on certain topics—in fact, those were arguably their best lessons—, the two had different interests and approaches to their people’s education. Glip was a firm believer that their people should learn how to control their wakfu and defend themselves as soon as possible, hence why he was an expert on Wakfung, their people’s martial art of combining their particular brand of magic with hand-to-hand combat. Meanwhile, Baltazar was the most scholarly of the two, his passion for uncovering and sharing knowledge second only to Qilby and Shinonomé—and only because they had the unfair advantage of retaining everything they learned from their previous lives.
Despite his brother’s best efforts, Glip only shook his head ruefully. “Brother, I’m afraid you’re clearly not seeing the dangers in allowing the Divine Doll in our class. She could endanger the children!”
“Exactly!” Efrim agreed, his tail unfolding just enough for him to stand taller amongst his siblings around the table. “We have yet to determine she is not a threat to us, and with those Cra sentinels from the other day threatening our safety from the outside, we can’t afford to allow the threat to come from inside!”
“Phaeris took care of the Cra, Young One.” The dragon in question was quick to remind his younger brother, never one to let his efforts go unnoticed. He wasn’t called ‘The Powerful’ for nothing. “Phaeris intercepted them before they could get too close to the island.”
“The mere fact that they came all the way here is suspicious enough.” Efrim shot back ominously, his eyes narrowing menacingly. 
“Efrim is right.” Glip agreed, not for the first time. At this point, Yugo was inclined to believe the two had formed an Anti Amalia Club or something behind their backs and this was all rehearsed. “Our people are vulnerable as is, we can’t afford the risk of letting the Divine Doll uncover our secrets!” In his disbelief, the Wakfung master stomped on the floor with his cane, the resounding thud! echoing around the council room. He shook his head ruefully. “I simply do not understand why you and Yugo are so intent on letting her attend our class.”
While Baltazar remained impassive even in the face of his twin’s outburst, Yugo was having a hard time trying not to squirm out of his chair and tear Glip a new one. The worst part was he didn’t even understand his own behaviour! This was what he wanted; for Glip to reject Amalia’s request so she wouldn’t have access to their secrets and end up proving his distrusting siblings right about her. For all intents and purposes, he should be siding with Glip and Efrim on this one! He had tried dissuading her of her goal not even an hour ago!
This—was—what—he—wanted!
And yet, the moment his siblings started accusing Amalia, claiming she only had ulterior motives rather than a genuine interest in their culture or, even worse, that there was no point in trying to teach her anything, it all made his blood boil. His fingers clutching at the fabric of his cloak as he tried to keep himself in check, he bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. And he stubbornly refused to meet Adamaï’s eyes because he knew his brother would be able to tell he was quite bothered by everything that was taking place and he did not want to give him the satisfaction. 
Again, it was Baltazar who voiced the king’s thoughts—although the heavily revised and edited version of them. “Lady Amalia is our guest and has expressed an interest in learning more about us. Many would wish to have the same opportunity.”
“Perhaps, but surely those people have a lot more to gain from the experience than us.” Glip replied stubbornly, glancing up at his brother and raising an eyebrow, as if daring the dragon to refute him. 
It seemed as if he had underestimated the old scholar, for he simply smiled down at him. “Just like Lady Amalia wishes to know more about us, we could take this opportunity to learn more about Sadida.” Yugo and Adamaï were taken aback when Baltazar’s tired gaze rested on them. “After all, just the other day, Yugo and Adamaï discovered Sadidas’ connection to nature is so deep, they feel pain if plants are damaged. That is valuable information.”
“Indeed. I’ll make sure to apologise next time I make myself a salad.” Glip deadpanned. 
Yugo had had enough. His siblings’ attitude towards Amalia had long moved past simple wariness to outright disrespect. If they wished to eventually live in peace with the other races populating the World of Twelve, that kind of behaviour would simply not do. 
So he told Glip as such. 
“While I understand your concerns, Glip,” that wasn’t a lie, he had been genuinely worried upon hearing Amalia’s request. “We mustn’t waste a perfect opportunity like this one. Who knows when the next one will present itself?”
“‘Perfect opportunity’?” Efrim echoed, mockery dripping from his tone. “To what, draw a target on our backs that says, ‘Come and get us!’?”
“To be one step ahead.” Yugo smirked when that finally got a reaction from the members attending, though not before sending Nora a look telling her to please control her brother. 
“What do you mean by that, Yugo?” It was Mina who spoke. Much like Shinonomé, for the most part she had chosen not to intervene. After all, at least this time their conversation was more like an animated debate than a heated argument on its way to becoming a fist fight. 
“If the gods have truly sent Amalia to spy on us and learn our weaknesses, then let’s turn that into an advantage!” He finally stood up from his chair, his aching body ever grateful for the small respite—how come Chibi and Grougal could successfully lead the construction of an entire settlement in record time, and yet they couldn’t choose comfortable furniture for one of the rooms they’d be spending the most time in? 
He leaned closer to the table, his hands resting on it as he made his point. “The gods said Amalia was sent here as a sign of good will, and yet, we haven’t treated her as such since she arrived! I say we play their game and beat them at it.”
Glip couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He loved and respected Yugo both as his brother and his king, but it was clear all logical thought escaped him whenever his little doll was concerned. And seeing as Adamaï wasn’t much help at the moment, it was up to him and Efrim to get their ruler to see reason. 
“That’s all great and all, but what does any of that have to do with the Divine Doll attending my class?”
He certainly hadn’t been expecting Yugo’s answer:
“It’ll help us set the right example.” He smirked, his brown eyes glinting excitedly at his own idea. With the same amount of energy, he made a sweep around the table with his eyes, purposely drawing his siblings’ attention to him. “If we hope to live in peace with the Twelvians, then we should know each other’s history, culture, and traditions. And what better way to start than by having a Divine Doll learn all about ours?
“In turn, I’m sure Amalia will be delighted to let us know whatever we want about her, her sisters, and maybe even their father. After all, she had no qualms showing vulnerability when I accidentally hurt her—if she truly were here as our enemy, she would show no weakness of any kind, especially if it can be exploited.”
At that, the attending members of the Council of Six began to deliberate, murmurs of agreement echoing around the walls as Yugo watched it all, a supremely self-satisfied grin on his face. 
“It is true Amalia’s presence and the knowledge she can provide us with could be a huge help in ensuring the Sadida’s trust, at the very least.” Nora pointed out, her thumb and index finger holding her chin pensively. Even Efrim had to agree with her statement.
“Only because you won’t allow me to examine her.” Qilby complained with a sulky roll of his eyes. “Had you let me study her when I first suggested it, we would have all the answers by now!”
“We are not going to experiment on her, Qilby!” The entirety of the Council of Six (sans Chibi and Grougal, of course) roared in abject horror at their brother’s insistence, even Efrim and Glip. Just because they didn’t trust the Sadida Doll, it didn’t mean they trusted Qilby with her, either. 
“You never let me do anything…” The bespectacled Eliatrope mumbled. With a sigh, Shinonomé began to gently rub his arm up and down for comfort. 
“As Yugo said, Lady Amalia’s presence is supposed to be a sign of good will. It is high time we treated her as such.” Baltazar sentenced, putting an end to that particular topic. Despite his calm features, he sent his twin a very pointed look, clearly expecting him to be the voice of dissent once again. 
For his part, even as he was still sulking in his chair, Glip perked up at his brother’s not-so-subtle stare. Despite himself, he let his eyes wander around his siblings, gauging their reactions. He had to bite the inside of his cheek when everyone was looking at him expectantly. He could feel a vein about to pop—he hated when they all ganged up on him like that!
After what felt like an eternity, the Wakfung master let out a long-suffering sigh that gradually turned into a groan. Rubbing his eyes in frustration and exhaustion, he asked, “You’re not gonna leave me alone until I give in, are you?”
Their shaking heads in unison was all the answer he needed, and the one he was dreading the most. 
“Fine.” He ended up saying, although very reluctantly. “The doll can come to our class, but she’d better not fall behind! If she does, I’m not lifting a finger to help her!”
His threat lost a good amount of impact when Baltazar piped up, “Worry not. Baltazar will make sure to help her with whatever she may need.”
Glip sent his brother the stink-eye. “You just love undermining my authority, don’t you?”
Even with his imposing girth, Baltazar managed to shrug, an all-too-innocent smile on his snout as he looked down at his brother. 
Glip’s scowl deepened. “The only reason you care about the doll being in our class is because that way you might learn a lot about her people, isn’t it?”
Baltazar’s smile didn’t falter.  
While the masters bickered, Yugo let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, letting himself slump on his chair. A small, tired smile made its way to his features. At least that would make Amalia happy.
.........................................................................................................................
Amalia had a hard time remaining still as she waited for class to start. Well, technically, that wasn’t true. She could already hear the children’s animated chatter from behind the doors, she was only waiting for Baltazar to announce her arrival so the kids wouldn’t be too surprised at the sight of the famed Sadida Doll sent to their king going to class with them. As she waited for her cue, she kept rocking herself back and forth on the ball of her feet, her hands tapping rhythmically against her thighs. 
Since she had never been to the other side, she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Would they all sit on the floor forming a ring around their teachers? Would they have individual desks and chairs? Maybe benches? Either way, the doll didn’t feel like taking any chances and settled for her adventuring outfit and the low-risk her pants provided. Maybe she wasn’t out and about seeing the world, but she was about to have her first day of class. If that wasn’t an adventure, she didn’t know what was.
She certainly felt more nervous now than she did when Yugo took her to the beach. 
Her excitement dimmed slightly at the thought of the king. She hadn’t seen him since she made her request; he had even sent Adamaï to inform her of the good news rather than doing it himself. Amalia really didn’t know what had got into him, but she was starting to grow really sick and tired of feeling so helpless. Next time she got the chance, she was going to give that elusive monarch a piece of her mind. 
Feeling all fired up, her fists clenched close to her chest determinedly, the Divine Doll almost jumped right out of her skin at the unexpected deep, gruff voice coming from down below. 
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not like this because you happen to find my brother’s customary greeting to the children riveting?” 
Amalia didn’t need to even know who was talking to know their words were dripping with sarcasm. Then again, she was perfectly aware of whom the voice belonged to; she had listened to him talk far too many times not to be able to recognise him. 
With a blink, she glanced down to her side and, lo and behold, there he was, Glip, the Eliatrope children’s Wakfung master. The doll still had no idea what Wakfung even was, but she had a feeling it might have been some sort of martial art given whenever it was time to teach it she would only hear battle cries and instructions like ‘Aim your portal a little higher’ or ‘Alternate between beam and kick’ coming from the other side.
As her brown gaze met Glip’s dark scowl, the doll could feel herself sweatdrop, an awkward laugh all she could muster at the moment. She knew he was harsh from listening in on his lessons, and the few times they crossed paths in the halls were almost as frightening as doing so with Efrim, but now that she found herself under the true fire of his gaze, Amalia felt scrutinised. Like he was already grading one of her tests. 
And what was worse, like she failed said test. 
A heavy silence stretched over them after his words, and Amalia had half the mind not to beg her father to suck her up in one of their divine portals or whatever they used to communicate with the World of Twelve and get her out of this situation. But then she remembered how much she wanted to be on the other side, and how much she begged Yugo for this and she changed her mind. Even if she was still mad at him for how weird he was being, Yugo definitely delivered. 
It was thanks to him she was even allowed to study their people’s history and culture, the least she could do was remain strong in the face of adversity. 
A sense of newfound vigour coursing through her veins, she clenched her fists discreetly to give herself some courage. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she addressed the Primordial Eliatrope that would be her teacher from now on, “It’s an honour to finally meet you—.”
“Rule Number 1: don’t talk in class unless you’ve been given permission after raising your hand.” He cut her off, not even looking her way. 
Amalia blinked, taken by surprise. “But… we’re not even in class yet…”
He ignored her. “Rule Number 2: pay attention in class.” And with that and without looking back even once, he turned the doorknob and let himself inside, the children all quieting down and greeting their teacher at the sight of him.
Flabbergasted and not sure what to do, Amalia was about to open her mouth when she could finally make out Baltazar’s voice from the other side:
“From now on, children, a very special guest will join our class.” He started, the kind tone of his voice a stark contrast to his twin’s gruffness. “Apparently, she’s shown remarkable interest in our people, even if she is unfamiliar with our customs. That is why we must be patient and understanding of her situation. And without further ado, let’s all give a warm welcome to our new student: Lady Amalia!”
That was her cue. Taking one last deep breath to steady herself, Amalia copied Glip’s actions. She grabbed a hold of the doorknob and turned it, finally opening the door to new experiences, both literally and figuratively, and entered the room, though not before closing her eyes in slight apprehension. 
When her arrival was met with an eerie silence, the Sadida Doll finally mustered up the courage to open one eye experimentally. Only for both of them to snap open in shock at the sight before her. Her brown gaze clocked in on the vast expanse of space inside, sandstone pillars lining up the mural-covered walls, only this time, it was clear to see the paintings were meant to reflect what took place inside the room—schematic designs of Glip and Baltazar were constantly surrounded by smaller Eliatropes as they either studied, played, or made portals; the little ones they were meant to raise and teach. 
In the background she could make out a lot of equipment, such as safety nets, hoops, mats, and even what looked like small arenas. In fact, a quick glance upwards was all it took for the Sadida Doll to notice there was actually a large safety net, tied around the four sturdiest pillars, going from one side of the room to the other, right below the ceiling. Although Amalia had the impression there was a patch of space where the ropes seemed more worn out than the rest, but she had no time to dwell much on it. It was all very impressive to see, but she had no idea what it was even for. 
Another thing that caught her eye was how each wall separated by a column had a porthole. On paper, it was only natural that a room full of children would have windows, so the space could be bathed in natural light. What wasn’t so natural, however, was how the landscape seemed to change from one porthole to the next. Okay, she hadn’t been on Oma for long, but she would have sensed the lack of vegetation typical from an honest-to-the-gods desert.
Once again, Baltazar’s warm voice broke her out of her musings, “Kids, Lady Amalia here is a Divine Doll. Much like we descend from the Great Goddess Eliatrope, she was created by this world’s god of nature, Sadida. She is here as our guest, so Baltazar hopes you will make her feel welcomed.”
The dragon’s words caused a small gasp to leave her lips. Of course, the children! She had been so busy observing the interior of the room she had completely overlooked to get a good look at Yugo’s youngest subjects. 
What she found was so adorable Amalia had to bite her lip hard to keep herself from squealing loud enough to shatter their weird-looking windows. 
Staring back at her, awe in their eyes, were dozens of little children, boys and girls, of all ages. From a distance, she could make out the similarities between them, and was momentarily taken aback by how much they all looked like Yugo. Technically, that shouldn’t have been surprising, as her father had once explained to her that a god's followers would all inherit some key characteristics from them, making their people look somewhat homogeneous. However, seeing as the Eliatrope members of the Council all had very distinctive features, such as slightly different hair colours, she had not been prepared to come face to face with a group of children all sporting Yugo’s exact same shade of dirty blond hair, slightly tanned skin, and dark brown eyes. 
Then, there was their clothing. While the Eliatrope King always wore his blue battlesuit and cloak, the Eliatrope children all wore much more appropriate outfits for their age. Shirts, pants, dresses, skirts… And yet, wherever she looked, all she could see were large, eared hats whose colour matched the rest of their clothes. Unlike the members of the Council and their varied colour scheme, most kids wore yellow or a light orange, though they were a few exceptions wearing green, blue, or even white, too.
Which was another surprise in itself since the only other Eliatropes Amalia had come in contact with besides Yugo and the Council members had been the elite guards and servants working inside the palace. And they all wore light purple robes that covered the entirety of their bodies except for their eyes. 
As she met the little ones’ awestruck expressions with one of her own and a small smile, Amalia realised with a start this was her first time ever seeing children. A warm sensation spread over her chest; they were simply precious.
“Hi, there.” She finally said, offering the kids a small, friendly wave. 
And with that simple gesture, chaos ensued.
In what felt like a split-second, the doll had dozens of children surrounding her, looking up at her with starry-eyed expressions. Looking back and forth between all of them, Amalia felt like her head was about to explode with the cacophony of sounds assaulting her ears. 
“She’s so pretty!”
“Why is your hair green?”
“Is it true what the adults say? You’re really here to marry King Yugo?”
“Are you really a doll? You don’t look like a doll.”
“Do you really not know anything about us?”
“Can you do any cool Sadida tricks?”
“Oh, yes! Please, do something cool, like-like, growing a huge tree from the ground!”
As the Divine Doll was being bombarded with questions, the uneasy smile on her face doing nothing to hide how overwhelmed she felt, Baltazar and Glip were watching the scene. But while the beige dragon was staring at it fondly, the Wakfung master had his arms over his chest and a surly look on his face. 
“Look at that,” He scoffed. “Not even five minutes in and she’s already driven our kids crazy! I knew it was a bad idea to let her in…”
Baltazar just rolled his eyes. “Please, Glip, they’re children. Baltazar has seen them lose focus on class because they saw a bird through one of the portals. How did you expect them to react at the sight of the Divine Doll everyone’s been talking about?”
“I maintain her presence is only going to be a huge distraction for the children and a waste of time for us.”
Knowing it would take his brother a while before he finally let go of his reservations about Amalia, Baltazar simply walked back to their lectern. Though, to be completely honest, it was just a plain old rock gorged in wakfu where Glip liked to stand above their students as he taught the lesson. The shortest Eliatrope liked to claim it was so all their students could see him without having to worry about the tallest ones getting in the shorter ones’ way, but they all knew better. They just chose not to comment on it. 
Taking pity on the poor divine creature attending their class that day, the dragon cleared his throat. “Very well, children. Baltazar knows you are all very excited to meet Lady Amalia, and she will love to answer all your questions but first, today’s lesson.” 
At the sound of their disappointed whimpers and whines, he sent his Eliatrope twin a look, reminding him of his cue. “Alright, alright, settle down! You can’t be playing all the time! If we could, this wouldn’t be a class but a playground. Come on, around us!”
At Glip’s instructions, the kids looked more than a little dejected, and Amalia’s eyes widened at the sight of the ears on their hats drooping. But she didn’t have much time to dwell on that, for she suddenly found herself being dragged to the centre of the room by a little hand. Looking down in surprise, she came face to face with a smiling Eliatrope girl that wore her hair in pigtails under an orange hat. 
“C’mon, m’Lady. You can sit with me.” She said as she led the doll to the centre of the room, where the other children were already beginning to sit down around their teachers. 
“Oh! Uh, thank you, um…”
“My name is Lori.” She giggled cutely as she finally took her place, causing Amalia to smile as she followed suit. 
“Nice to meet you, Lori—.”
“Don’t go thinking that just because you’re a guest you’re exempt from the classroom rules, you hear me?” Glip’s gruff, chiding voice interrupted her. Looking up at him, she couldn’t help but gulp at the glare he was sending her way. “In case you already forgot, the very first rule is that you cannot talk in class until you are given permission. And that’s only after you’ve raised your hand for said permission. Are we clear?”
Amalia didn’t know what to feel. Not because he was scolding her for breaking a rule, or anything like that. He was right in that sense; just because she was a guest, that didn’t mean she was above following the rules like everyone else. No. What caught her eye was the fact that, technically, Lori had broken that rule too, yet he was only reprimanding her. With a shake of her head, she chose to let it go. She didn’t want to be the kind of person who got mad because a child wasn’t being yelled at instead of her. 
That was just wrong on so many levels. 
“Yes, sir.” She ended up saying instead, though a part of herself couldn’t help but pray to Sadida she hadn’t made the same mistake. 
Glip just regarded her with an unreadable expression, his hold on his cane tightening. Thankfully, no, she didn’t make the same mistake. 
“The appropriate title is Master Glip.” 
She just made another one.
And with that, Glip turned around, stuck his cane between one of the wakfu-filled cracks going up and down the large stone in the middle of the room and levered himself up to the top in one swift motion, landing on his feet even as he somersaulted in the air. 
Amalia’s jaw hit the floor. Although she was quick to shut her mouth, seeing as the children around her remained unperturbed by the Primordial Eliatrope’s display. Maybe that was a common occurrence?
Back to Glip, now that he was up on his rock, he stomped his cane  against it three times to ensure he had everyone’s attention. Once everyone’s eyes were fixed on him—even the doll’s—, he explained in a booming voice:
“For those of you who don’t know,” he sent the Divine Doll a condescending look, “today’s lesson will be mixed. The first half will be spent studying Eliatrope History with Baltazar, while we will be working on the katas we learned last time after practicing on our own for a bit during the second half. Are there any questions?”
The Wakfung master had to suppress the urge to groan in exasperation when he saw the doll’s hand raised. If it weren’t for Baltazar flashing him a warning glare, he would have pretended not to see and continued with the lesson as if nothing had happened. 
“Yes?” He pointed at her with his cane, derision laced with his tone despite his best efforts.
“Um, sorry, but what’s a kata?” Amalia asked a little sheepishly, tucking a strand of her forest-green hair behind her ear when the children around her giggled at her question. Funny how she was being laughed at and that still felt a lot less judgemental than how Glip was treating her. 
His only response was a smirk. “You’ll see.” Then, out of nowhere, he clasped his hands as he gestured to his dragon twin. “The floor’s all yours, Baltazar.”
For his part, Baltazar’s expression was rather cold even as he stared back at his brother. He would definitely have a word with him over his treatment of Amalia after class was over. But first:
“Thank you, Glip.” Even his tone was icy as he addressed his twin. Then, it softened considerably as he focused back on the kids. “Today’s a very special day, children. Since this is Lady Amalia’s first day, how about we show her how much we’ve learned so far? Any volunteers to share our last lesson?”
It didn’t take long for the reaction he had been dreading to be sparked. As soon as those words left his mouth, all children present seemed to shrink on themselves, the few of them that were closest to a bewildered Amalia scooted over to the Divine Doll as if she could offer them some cover from the terrible fate that was being asked to repeat a lesson aloud.
He had to count the fact that none of them had tried to create a portal to run away yet as a success. 
He waited a few minutes, but eventually gave up with a sigh as none of the children could even look him in the eye. He understood between Yugo and Adamaï’s adventures and Glip’s teachings, their people’s history might not look as appealing, but it was still worth learning. Knowledge could open the door to so many new experiences and even help you perfect things you already knew, just as it helped you avoid making the same mistakes again. And Baltazar knew the children paid attention in his classes, if only they weren’t so afraid of speaking up.
“Looks like you’ll have to take it from the top again, Brother.” Glip sent him a compassionate look, knowing how much this meant to him. 
“Baltazar would say so, yes.” With a tired smile, he opened up his mouth, ready to begin… Only to be interrupted by Amalia raising her hand yet again. Arching one bushy eyebrow, he asked, “Yes, Lady Amalia? Is everything alright? Forgive Baltazar, but he cannot understand how you can have a question already since he has yet to say a word.”
Slowly, Amalia lowered her hand and brought it to her chest, a small blush colouring her cheeks. “Oh! Um, no. I mean, it’s not exactly a question, but… more of a request, actually?”
The twins exchanged confused glances. “A request?”
“This isn’t a ball where you can just ask the band to play a song, you know?” Glip quipped harshly, eyes narrowed on the doll. 
“Oh, no! It’s nothing like that!” Amalia immediately tried to defend herself, shaking her hands in front of her body. 
“Then what is it you’re… requesting?” Baltazar asked again after a pause. 
“I was just wondering, since you intend to review everything for my sake—which you have my sincerest thanks for—, if you could start with the construction of the Zenith?”
The twins’ eyes widened like saucers at her words. And they weren’t the only ones, for the kids had all turned to stare at Amalia, their surprise evident on their faces. Meanwhile, all sorts of alarms went off in Glip’s mind as he readied himself to attack if need be. “How do you know about that?” He questioned, his tone dangerously low. 
Her blush deepened. Her hands clutching at the fabric of her pants nervously, she finally admitted. “Well, the thing is… I just never got to hear the whole story.”
Wait, what?
“What do you mean?” It was Baltazar who asked, his tone as kind as ever, albeit cautious. 
“I’ve been listening to your classes for a while now, and I’ve always been enchanted by the way you retell everything that happened.” She confessed, her voice growing in confidence the more she spoke. Soon, even her gestures and expressions were becoming more animated. “It’s incredible! The way you can just… transport me to another world! It feels like I’m there! Especially when the both of you teach the lesson. It’s just… just… amazing.”
Glip’s eyebrows shot up at that, pleasantly surprised despite himself. That had to be the highest praise they’d received in a while, and to think it came from the Divine Doll… At the thought of her, the Wakfung master shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t grow soft now, not after what she’d just said. 
“But why do you want to learn about the Zenith in specific?”
She grew embarrassed again, her fingers fidgeting on her lap. “Because I never got to hear the full story. I know certain things, but not everything.”
“Wait!” This time, the three adults had their attention drawn to the children. It had been Jeré, one of the oldest ones whose bangs covered his eyes, who spoke. “You’ve never heard the full story?” His jaw dropped when all Amalia could do was shake her head. “But it’s so awesome!”
“Do you really don’t know about it?” Another kid, a little girl named Jamille, pressed on, turning around to face the doll properly. 
Amalia smiled kindly at them. “I know some things. Like how Chibi and Grougaloragran are the Eliatropes’ greatest inventors and the only thing they hadn’t been able to master yet was how to go beyond your world─something not even your portals could achieve.”
The first time she heard the story, Amalia’s curiosity had been picked once again by the mention of their world. She still wasn’t fully aware of what they meant by that or why they would be in the World of Twelve if they already had a home of their own, but she chose to keep that bit for later. Right now, she was far too enchanted by the children’s awed grins. 
“Yes, that’s right!” Jeré nodded enthusiastically. “They kept researching for decades, but they just couldn’t get it right!”
“For the longest time, they tried creating a special kind of portal that would lead us away from our world, but that plan failed because our portals can’t work unless we’re close enough to our destination or we at least know it by heart.” A girl with fluffy bangs added. 
“And-and, and no one knowed what was outside of home, so it didn’t work.” Amalia almost died when what looked to be the youngest kid present shily spoke next. He was so cute! With his little wabbit onesie and those puffy cheeks she so desperately wanted to pinch! 
Once her cuteness-induced high was under control, however, their words registered in her mind. Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape at the realisation that that had been the reason Yugo hadn’t been able to teleport them directly to the beach when they went out. Now she felt a little bad for snapping at him and Adamaï, but it was a little hard being unfailingly nice after throwing your stomach’s contents on a poor, unsuspecting bush!
She was brought back to the class when another kid continued on with the tale. “In the end, they realised what they needed wasn’t for us to be able to create that kind of portal, but to be able to leave. Period!”
“So they decided to build this huge and super cool machine where we would all fit and we could use to travel around the Krozmos!” Another kid noted. 
Little by little, the rest of the class grew in confidence too. All of them taking turns to tell everything they knew to the Sadida Doll, who hanged onto every word with rapt attention. 
As this was all taking place, Baltazar and Glip could only look on, astonished, their mouths millimetres away from touching the floor. And while the dragon’s shocked expression eventually settled into an extremely pleased smile, Glip had yet to recover. It was simply unbelievable! For some reason, the doll had single-handedly managed to encourage the kids to repeat their lessons aloud, a feat that took considerable effort from him and Baltazar to achieve. And yet, there she was, listening intently as their students bombarded her with information. 
Somehow, it was even more surprising to find out the doll had indeed been paying attention to the lesson whenever it was that she eavesdropped on them. Whenever the children got a fact wrong, if it just so happened she had been able to listen to that particular part of the story, she would kindly correct them in a way that wouldn’t make them feel bad about it. 
Glip… really didn’t know what to think.
Eventually, he was snapped out of his trance by Lori finishing off the story by throwing her hands up in the air triumphantly, her classmates mimicking her actions with matching enthusiasm. In response, the doll simply clapped with a warm smile on her face. 
“Thank you so much, you guys. I’m learning so much already!” She gently rubbed the heads of the two kids closest to her, Lori and a little boy whose name she didn’t know. She couldn’t help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the way they made sure their hats remained in place even after her caresses. “And it’s plain to see you know your stuff too!”
At the little, playful wink she sent them, the Eliatrope children couldn't help the beaming smiles from forming on their faces, basking in the beautiful doll’s praise. Boy, their king sure was lucky to have such a cool girlfriend!
Chuckling fondly at the scene—and allowing a supremely satisfied smirk to curl at his lips at the sight of his discombobulated brother—, Baltazar cleared his throat to bring everyone’s attention back at him. “Very well, children. Lady Amalia is right; you sure know a lot! Balthazar is very proud of you all. But, as we all know, just like there’s always something new to be learned, it is also good to remember what we already know so we never forget. Which is why Baltazar will be telling you about our people’s origins.”
Despite that being a story they all knew by heart, it was still one of the children’s favourites, so they all eagerly leaned in to better listen to what the dragon had to say. Amalia in particular was awestruck at the revelation. She had been wondering exactly the same thing since practically her birth. She really didn’t know much, just that the Eliatropes descended from the Great Goddess Eliatrope so they clearly didn’t worship any of the gods her father was a member of. But she had no idea how they ever came to be or why their goddess wasn’t a part of the Twelvians’ pantheon. So, much like the children, she leaned in, her head resting on her propped up arms, ready to learn. 
Normally, Glip would have argued sharing that particular story around the Divine Doll would have been foolish, as it would have compromised some very delicate information regarding their people. But when he and Baltazar had been prepping the lesson before class, the two twins actually discussed the subject at length. While the Eliatrope had been firmly against it at first, his dragon brother eventually managed to convince him by raising the very valid point that Amalia had been born in Inglorium, surrounded by this world’s gods. She was most likely already aware of their origin! So he acquiesced and relented, allowing Baltazar to do as he pleased. 
If anything, maybe hearing their version of the story would be enough to convince the doll not to sell them out to her nature-loving father and his friends. It was unlikely, but for once Glip dared to hope. 
“Long, long ago,” Baltazar began, his incredibly talented storyteller voice enrapturing his students with just a few words. “There was nothing. Everything was darkness. Things such as planets, the concept of time, or the very Krozmos itself didn’t exist. In fact, the only things that did exist were two very different essences: wakfu, the source of all life; and stasis, the energy of destruction. 
“Two divine beings represented these energies; the Great Goddess Eliatrope was the source of all wakfu, whereas the Great Dragon was the source of all stasis. These two opposite forces, being the only living creatures in the whole wide universe, fell in love. Guided by their feelings, they were joined in a dance from which the Krozmos was born, and with it, life could thrive before parting from the material world, thus continuing the two lovers’ dance—existence became a balance between life and death.”
Amalia found herself completely captivated by the dragon’s tale. She remembered her father briefly mentioning the existence of stasis and how it was opposite from wakfu, which was crucial for the survival of their people, even if he didn’t have the time to dwell much on that; but she was sure he had never mentioned the Great Dragon, let alone how the Krozmos came to be thanks to him and the Eliatrope Goddess. She brought her legs close to her chest, looking forward to knowing what happened next. 
As he retold the events that took place aeons ago, Baltazar paced around the room at a leisurely stride. His little wings fluttered in delight at the sight of his fascinated class, even Amalia looked positively enchanted by his tale. And the way even the most unruly kids had yet to misbehave, sneaking discreet glances the doll’s way, made him appreciate having her in his class. 
Apparently, she was a good influence on the kids. 
“But that is not all that they did.” He shook his head, as if the mere idea was ludicrous. “Shortly after they created the Krozmos, the two lovers found each other once more. Much like the first time, they were joined in a dance, only this time they created life on a considerably smaller, but not any less magnificent scale.” Abruptly, he stopped pacing. He sat down on the floor as he regarded the children all seriously, before a small smirk graced his features. “Tell me, children, what did they create this time?”
The response was immediate. All students present but Amalia—who could only look around in surprise—exclaimed in perfect unison, “They created the six Dofus Eliatropes!”
“That’s right.” Baltazar chuckled, satisfied. “And from each Dofus a set of twins was born. Each of them were granted a special gift they were meant to use for the sake of the people they would lead. Hence, the Council of Six, composed of the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragon siblings was born!”
Amalia’s surprised gasp was drowned out by the sound of the children cheering and applauding, clearly delighted with the story. But as the kids celebrated and Baltazar went on about how it was their duty as their leaders to look out for their people in each reincarnation—wait, so they were that kind of demigods, too?! But the only demigods she knew could reincarnate were Ecaflip’s children, and even they only had nine lives… She would have to store that information away for later, lest her head would explode—, Amalia’s brain clocked in on what he’d said about him and his siblings. 
Being a demigoddess herself, Amalia was aware of the fact that her divine parentage made her special, moreover, many would agree her case in specific made her even more exceptional. After all, unlike the other gods, who needed to mate with mortal partners to bear offspring, she and her sisters had been conceived single-handedly by Sadida himself. The Leafy God had created them out of practically nothing, using a fragment of his supreme power to bring each and everyone of his daughters to life. Therefore, by virtue of not possessing mortal blood, they were almost as godly as any other deity, hence why they were allowed in Inglorium.
At least, that was what her father and sisters told her. 
And yet, Yugo and his siblings and their origins managed to be even more staggering. Whereas Sadida’s Dolls had been created by the god of nature’s sole intervention, the Eliatropes had been born from the union of their patron goddess and the Great Dragon. They were descended from two gods! 
Wait, if that was the case, could they even be considered demigods? She wondered idly. 
Even as Amalia struggled trying to understand what it all meant, a wayward thought materialised in her brain, effectively taking her mind off such matters as she made a vital connection. That at least explained how it was possible that each set of twins hatching from their respective Dofus comprised an Eliatrope child and a dragon. 
A part of the doll was rather relieved to be able to put that mystery to rest. 
Before she could dwell on the matter any longer, however, the sound of Glip stomping his cane against the floor drew everyone’s attention back to him. “Well, that concludes today’s history lesson, children. Thank Master Baltazar for everything and go over the training grounds. Today’s training session is going to be intense.”
...................................................................................................................
Though confused at first by the Eliatrope teacher’s instructions, much like she’d done at the beginning of Baltazar’s lesson, Amalia decided to follow the children’s lead. Letting herself be dragged by Lori as she and the other kids resumed their questioning of her—and struggling slightly to keep up—, the green-haired beauty stood slack-jawed upon being led to the training grounds. 
Suddenly all that equipment and safety nets she’d seen when she entered the classroom made a lot more sense. 
Her awe only grew as Glip instructed the kids on what they’d be doing that day and divided them in groups, pointing at the areas each group would train at with his cane right before telling the children to disperse. As she remained where she was, glued to her spot, the doll’s big brown eyes kept darting back and forth between the little ones. Some of them were trying to execute a complicated set of movements, their efforts focused on combining traditional hand-to-hand combat with the use of their wakfu. Another group consisting of the youngsters were trying to conjure up portals, their little hands glowing blue but not achieving much else. And finally, the group little Lori belonged to was up high in the ceiling, using their portals to move from one place to another and landing safely on the net hanging over her head whenever they failed. If she had to guess, Amalia would say these groups were actually skill levels, going from beginners, intermediate level, and advanced level. 
She met Lori’s shy wave from up above with one of her own and smiled kindly up at her. Even so, despite how interesting this all was, Amalia couldn’t help but feel a little out of place just standing there with nothing to do. 
Looking to her side, she found Glip watching his students with a careful eye, his gaze never leaving them. Despite being a huge grump and more than a little condescending, Amalia had to admit he was at least a caring and responsible teacher. Even if that aspect of his personality was directed at anyone but her. 
Mustering up all her courage by taking one deep breath, the Divine Doll made her way over to him, careful not to ruin his concentration as he kept an eye on the children. Every now and then he would yell some kind of instruction or piece of advice for them to follow, and Amalia was proud to say she only flinched slightly each time that startled her. 
Hiding her hands behind her back as a clear sign of her nervousness, she tried to say, “Um…Master Glip?”
He didn’t even look at her, just grunted, “What is it?”
“Uh, well, I was just wondering… Is this supposed to be Wakfung?” She gestured at the training session taking place. 
Even though he had yet to look her way, Glip was starting to regret not sending the doll away when his part of the lesson started and he had the chance. Ironically, he had been so distracted keeping an eye on her and the chaos her presence could ensue, he had forgotten all about her by the time it was his turn to take the reins. Well, thankfully, it wasn’t like she’d be able to gather much intel from watching the kids’ training session. Neither of them were ready yet to try out for becoming guards-in-training, which meant their technique had yet to be fully polished. She would not be able to do much harm with non-perfected moves. 
That didn’t mean he shouldn’t be careful, however. “You could say that, yes.” At first, his voice remained impassive, until he grew impatient. “What about it?”
“Nothing, it’s just…” She trailed off, almost too afraid to ask. 
“Well…?” The Eliatrope urged her, still not looking at her. 
“I suppose I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She finally admitted. 
“What you’re supposed to do? Whatever does that mean?”
Amalia shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean, aren’t I here to learn? I’m not really sure what to do when my magic doesn’t work like yours.” As she said that, her eyes trailed back up to Lori. She had noticed how she hadn’t been as eager to jump through portals like her classmates, and she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at the sight. “Is there a way I can learn Wakfung without… you know… being an Eliatrope?”
That made him look back at her in surprise, his eyes wide like saucers. However, that was nothing compared to the shiver that ran down her spine when he began to laugh, the sound effectively causing most children to stop doing their respective activities to watch the scene. Even Baltazar looked down at his twin in surprise right before exchanging slightly alarmed glances with Amalia. 
After what felt like an awkwardly long amount of time, Glip finally quieted down. Wiping a tear off his eye, he simply said, “No, there is not.” And then he turned back around to stare at the children, his abrupt demeanour immediately making them return to training. 
For a while, all Amalia could do was blink, speechless. It took her a bit before she finally regained the ability to speak, “W-what do you mean? Are you sure?”
“Oh, I’m positive. You see, there is no Wakfung without wakfu.”
“But I have wakfu.” She insisted, her brow furrowed at his refusal. “See?” She extended her palms facing the ceiling, a faint green light enveloping her hands as she called forth her father’s divine gift without actually manifesting it. 
“You have Sadida magic, not Eliatrope magic.” Glip pointed out without missing a beat. “Sure, you might be able to make flowers grow and to sprout some vines, but you are incapable of creating portals or wielding wakfu in its purest form. Therefore, I don’t see the point in teaching you.” 
“Glip!” Baltazar exclaimed, scandalised at his twin’s callousness. He knew better than anyone that his brother tended to be blunt and was never one to sugarcoat things, but to think he’d be this disrespectful towards Lady Amalia! It was imperative he defused the situation. “Please, forgive Baltazar’s brother, my Lady. He did not mean to be so rude, it is simply that we do not know how to adapt ourselves to your unique abilities.”
Seeing as Baltazar’s words made perfect sense, Amalia was about to reassure the beige dragon everything was alright when Glip cut in, although his words felt like they were actually cutting through her. 
“Oh, don’t grovel like that, Baltazar! Have some dignity!” Glip loudly complained, swirling around to face his brother with a reproachful look. “She isn’t one of us, and she will never be, no matter how much she tries to integrate herself with us by learning our culture or our history! She is not an Eliatrope and therefore it would be extremely foolish to teach her Wakfung, and you know this!”
Even if Amalia already felt like she’d been slapped by his harsh words, she couldn’t help but gasp when the shortest Eliatrope settled the full fire of his fury on her, making her curl around herself subconsciously in fear. “There is simply no way I will ever make it easier for an outsider to hurt my people.” 
His words were dripping with venom and Amalia ingested every single drop. Her heart fell to her stomach, and she could feel the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. What was worse, even in her numb state, she could discern how the entire room had grown eerily quiet, the children’s attention drawn to them by the commotion.
Was it true? Didn’t the Eliatrope trust her? Was that the reason for Glip and Efrim’s animosity, for the servants' cordial yet distant treatment of her? Deep down, she knew they certainly hadn’t been expecting her, that was something she became aware of as soon as she arrived at Oma Island, but to think they would actually hold such vitriol for her… Even as she stood there, frozen in shock as Baltazar flashed a seething glare his brother’s way while the latter refused to even meet his eye, the Sadida Doll couldn’t help but wrack her brain for answers. Tried as she might, she just couldn’t come up with anything in specific she might have done to earn their scorn. As she kept on searching, a chilling thought assaulted her. 
Was that the reason why Yugo…?
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a bloodcurdling sound; a shrill, frightened scream. 
“Lori!” One of the children shrieked, pointing up at her. 
With a gasp, her heart pounding in her chest, Amalia swivelled her head to the origin of the scream. Her eyes widened in alarm at the sight of Lori’s portal malfunctioning at the last second and her falling. Normally, the little girl should have been perfectly fine, the safety net underneath her breaking her fall and preventing any disasters, but the doll couldn’t help but bring a hand to her mouth as Lori collided against the area where she’d noticed before the trope was worn out. As the kid collided against it, she sent a quick prayer to Sadida, begging him for the net to hold on, but alas, no such luck. 
The ropes gave in under Lori’s weight, sending the little girl plummeting to the ground. 
Overcome by a protective instinct she didn’t know she possessed, so overwhelmed by the surge of power coursing through her veins she only vaguely registered a flash of blue light from the corner of her eye, Amalia didn’t hesitate to act. Thinking fast, she threw her arm out, her palm outstretched, a portion of the floor in front of her—she sent a quick thank you to her father for their classroom being at ground level— glowing green for a split-second before a large vine shot forth and towards the terrified child. 
At staggering speed, the thick plant reached just below Lori, softening her fall. Then, as soon as she made contact with it, the vine twisted and turned, creating spirals that acted as a slide and safely deposited Lori on the ground under everyone’s astonished and relieved gazes. 
As soon as Lori’s feet made contact with the ground, she broke down crying. Seeing Amalia’s open arms, she threw herself at the Divine Doll, clutching onto her like a lifeline. “I-I-I…” She hiccuped at first, before it all became too much and she eventually wailed, “I was so scared!”
As she held the crying girl in her arms, Amalia made soothing noises in an attempt to calm her down. “There, there. It’s okay, Lori. You’re safe now. You’re safe now.”
While Amalia was busy trying to console the poor kid, her classmates surrounding the two and dissolving into both praises for the doll and words of encouragement for Lori, the two teachers watched the scene. In Glip’s case, who had been about to reach the girl before Amalia’s vine went ahead, his expression reflected the many mixed feelings going on in his mind. 
By his side, Baltazar sighed. “Baltazar understands we must be careful not to underestimate her and what she’s capable of, but he believes in doing so we are also doing just that.”
“What do you mean?” Glip asked, his voice as small as his height, for once. 
“You believe her undeserving of trust, and yet, she did not hesitate to save Lori. A truly heinous creature with no concern for anyone but their own would not do such a thing.” Then, he gestured to the crowd of children surrounding the crying girl and the doll with his tail. “Children are unexpectedly good at telling who is worthy of trust and who isn’t. And our little ones have been enchanted by her from the moment she walked through the door.”
Looking back and forth between his brother and the doll, Glip found himself at a loss. His voice was almost desperate when he begged the dragon for answers. “Baltazar, you’ve been much more willing to trust her than me since the beginning, but… why? What do you see in her that makes her worthy in your eyes?”
In response, Baltazar simply smiled kindly, the corner of his eyes wrinkling at the action. “Baltazar is a dragon.” He replied simply. “Much like you told him Adamaï did, Baltazar stared into her wakfu.” Leaning closer to the Eliatrope, he placed his tail on his shoulder. “Baltazar cannot speak for the twelve gods and their true intentions, but Lady Amalia holds no ill intent in her heart. She is far too pure for that.”
And with that, the dragon went over to join his class in looking after Lori to make sure the little one was okay, leaving the Wakfung master alone with his thoughts. 
.......................................................................................................................
After that scare, the two teachers thought it best to dismiss the class early. There would be no katas that day, after all. Everyone, especially Lori, was far too rattled by the events to continue as if nothing had happened. Since it was still a little too early for the kids’ parents to pick them up, they remained inside the classroom as they often did whenever class ended sooner than expected. However, while they would normally be playing around until it was time to go, this time the children remained huddled around Amalia as she gently and soothingly caressed a still recovering Lori, who remained glued to the doll’s front, hugging her tightly like her life depended on it. They spent the rest of the time like that, with the children talking to Amalia and hanging onto her every word like she had just lowered the moon for them. 
Finally, it was time to say goodbye for the day when the kids’ parents arrived. While they had all been understandably surprised at the sight of the Divine Doll surrounded by their children—and a few parents had had to not-so-subtly nudge their partners to react when they stared, or more like ogled, at the forest beauty for a tad too long—, it was nothing compared to their reactions upon learning what had happened. 
Lori’s parents in particular spent a good time thanking a slightly overwhelmed Amalia profusely for saving their daughter as soon as the latter was done with her retelling, having wasted no time in informing her parents of her little brush with death and the super cool plant Lady Amalia had used to rescue her just in time. 
Once every kid had left the room with their parents, waving Amalia goodbye—a gesture she returned wholeheartedly—, she was about to leave as well when Baltazar’s voice stopped her in her tracks. 
“Lady Amalia. A word, please?”
“Of course, Master Baltazar. Is anything the matter?”
“Not at all, my Lady. In fact, it is Baltazar’s brother who wishes to speak with you.” Right after he said that, he nudged his Eliatrope twin forward, and Amalia immediately braced herself for the worst. 
“In light of recent events…” The Eliatrope began uneasily. After a pregnant pause, trying in vain to organise his thoughts, Glip finally gave in with a sigh. “I have come to realise I’ve been unfair to you. I judged you far too quickly and treated you according to my prejudices rather than who you really are. And for that, I’d like to offer my sincerest apologies, my Lady.” 
Genuine shame coloured Glip’s features even as he bowed down deeply in front of the Sadida Doll, who could only blink, taken aback. However, soon enough, her confusion gave way to a warm smile, touched by the gesture. 
“I gladly accept your apologies, Master Glip.” She told him, bringing a hand to her chest. “Please, accept mine as well. I’m aware my actions might have offended you, even if it was the furthest thing from my intention.”
“Think nothing of it.” He nodded. Then, he cleared his throat and he held his cane a little bit tighter for (moral) support. “Um, I… Well.” He coughed. “Even if I have yet to decide whether it’d be possible to teach you Wakfung, given your Sadida nature, seeing as you have shown genuine interest in our people’s way, we…” Another pause, this time punctuated by deliverance. “I would be honoured to see you in class from now on, Lady Amalia.”
If it was even possible, Amalia’s smile only stretched wider. “The honour would be all mine, Master Glip.”
And as everyone made it back to their respective homes after such a hectic day, there was one topic that kept being discussed at the Eliatrope children’s tables during dinner. They couldn’t wait until King Yugo took Lady Amalia as his queen.
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assistant-of-drama · 3 days
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Assistant Noah's World Tour!
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After France...
Alejandro made sure to treat Owen decently this time.
It wasn't enough to make Noah stop giving him the silent treatment, but it was enough to make Noah stop glaring at him.
After the Amazons win the challenge, the plane apparently needs a few hours for repairs before taking off... it was the perfect opportunity to make up with Noah.
"Hey Noah, since we have some time, would you like to get some sweets and see the Eifel Tower with me?" Alejandro asked, his voice smooth as honey.
Noah hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the sudden request. He glanced at Alejandro, noticing the genuine excitement in his green eyes. But Noah only said yes, cause he was hungry and curious to try some fancy desserts.
Noah nods, embarrassed to hear a small growl from his stomach. "Fine, I could use the break from everything. But you're paying."
They find a small, but fancy bakery and eat some cupcakes with icing flowers with coffee.
As they eat, Alejandro can't stop looking at the small, pleased smile on Noah's face. It was working. He was winning Noah over.
When they finished eating, they stayed in their seats for a bit, asking questions and getting to know each other. Alejandro talked about his love of dinosaurs and puppets, while Noah confessed about his secret fondness of planes and rockets and fluffy animals. Alejandro couldn't help, but genuinely laugh at the irony, considering how much Noah hates the giant and unstable plane they were forced to fly in.
Then they walked towards the Eifel Tower. As they approached, Noah couldn't help but feel a surge of awe. The tower loomed over them, impossibly tall and elegant. Even though he'd seen pictures of it before, nothing could prepare him for the sheer scale of it in real life.
When Alejandro wrapped an arm around Noah, the assistant allowed it while gazing at the tower. But then Alejandro wrapped his other arm around Noah, practically giving him a hug. Noah turned around, while still trapped in the taller man's arms.
"Alejandro, what are you doing? I keep telling you that flirting with me isn't gonna give you benefits. What could you possibly hope to gain?" Noah asks with a tired yet firm voice. He feels a blush creeping onto his cheeks, though, as he's pressed so close against the taller man.
Alejandro smirks, despite having a light blush of his own. "Maybe what I want to gain is your attention."
"What?" Noah's eyes widened at this, so many conflicting emotions swirling inside them.
That's when the Eifel Tower lights up, surrounding the area in a beautiful romantic light.
Noah and Alejandro silently gaze into each other's eyes, lost in the haze of the city of love. Not even they are immune to it's great power. Their faces relax as they stare blankly at each other. It feels as if time has slowed down, the world around them fading away into nothing but the two of them. The romantic light making their bodies and minds feel pleasantly warm.
Alejandro then begins to lean in for a kiss. Noah somewhat wakes up from his daze to lean away from the charming spanish man's lips. But the taller man follows his lips, while still holding Noah close. It almost looked like Alejandro was dipping him. The book-loving assistant had to think fast, before their lips make contact.
Noah grabs the charm on Alejandro's necklace and presses it against the charmer's puckered lips.
Alejandro opens his eyes in dazed confusion.
Noah smiles and uses his other hand to playfully rub his captor's cheek. "Did you really think it was gonna be that easy, eel?"
Alejandro removes his lips from the charm and smiles back. "Why no, of course not. But I do love a challenge, my little porpoise.~"
Noah gets a kiss on his nose, before he could stop it.
Alejandro got kicked in the stomach, as a result.
The taller man considers it progress, that it wasn't the kiwis that Noah hit instead.
At least the diablo is talking to him again.
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