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riordanness · 7 months

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pick up lines - [p.jackson]

1.4K wordcount

warnings: none

requested: no

I hated waking up.

Not that sleeping was particularly amazing, being a demigod and all, but waking up really sucked. I'd been resting peacefully (not), when I was rudely shaken from my sleep by the breakfast bell.

Unfortunately, I had never been an early riser, so most mornings, there was a mad rush, involving a lot of mess, losing everything I needed, and desperately trying, (and failing) to clean up my cabin before inspection, which was right after breakfast.

I was generally the one who had the messiest cabin during inspection.

I finally was dressed in jeans and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, with my h/c hair pulled away from my face. Then, I ran to the dining pavilion.

I was a daughter of Demeter, the plant goddess. Yeah, I'm sure most of you are thinking: Oh, wow, plants... But seriously, it's kinda cool. I do have some pretty sweet powers. I can grow any plants from practically nothing, control plants and stuff, and sense things in the earth. I can even use plants to travel instantly from one place to another, by just hopping through the trees, or seeds, or flowers, or weeds, or . . . whatever.

I slipped into my seat next to Katie Gardner, my elder sister. She was the counsellor for Cabin Demeter. Katie was super nice, but she was always busy at the moment, mostly hanging out with her new boyfriend, Travis Stoll, Son of Hermes.

"You slept in again," Katie whispered to me, trying, and failing epically, to hide her laughter. "We thought it was best not to try and wake you."

That was probably smart. If someone woke me up, they'd most likely leave that situation with a black eye and seeds growing in their skin. I can be fairly lethal when I want to be.

"I stated up too late again last night," I said back, my voice also low. I didn't like when other kids were listening in on my conversations, especially those Hermes kids.

"Doing what?" Katie smirked, like she knew something I didn't.

"Um..." What was I doing? Hanging out with my best friend of course. Who also happened to be the cutest and most popular guy at camp. The only current Son of Posiedon. Percy Jackson.

"I was with Percy, at the beach. We were finding lost starfish and chucking them back in the water..." My voice faltered. I wasn't good at lying. 'At the beach' was accurate. We'd been laying on a picnic blanket, watching the stars, and just talking about everything and anything, for hours. We did that almost every night. It was the best feeling in the world, just being with him.

"Uh huh." Katie turned back to her food. "He likes you, y/n, I'm sure of it. Just as much as you like him, I bet."

"Katie!" I hissed, my face beet red, but the words pleased me. I'd had a crush on Percy Jackson since the first day he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, tired and bruised and scratched from fighting the Minotaur. He'd limped into camp, stole my heart, and became the coolest guy at camp within a month.

And yes, I was in love with him. We'd been best friends for years, and we hung out all the time. How could I possibly not fall for him, with his stupid trouble-maker grin, his dark, messy hair, his sparkling sea-green baby-seal eyes, and his voice. He was, at least in my eyes, perfect.

***

Later, I was practicing my sword-fighting in the arena, hacking arms and legs and heads off the stuffed straw dummies. I'd never been the best fighter, but I felt like I was getting the hang of my sword.

"Are you a child of Hermes?" a joking voice rang out from behind me. I spun around, and came face to face with one of the Hephestus kids. Leo Valdez, maybe?

I blew my hair out of my face, breathing hard. "Um, no? Demeter, actually. Why?"

The boy, Leo, cracked a grin. "Because you stole my heart."

I blinked, not sure what to say. I never really spoke to any of the kids from Hephestus cabin, especially not this one.

"Uh, okay... thanks, I guess?"

Leo grinned again, then ran off without saying anything else. Okay... that was pretty weird.

I decided to go for a walk, to cool down and to stretch my legs a bit, so I headed for the basketball courts, where a bunch of kids were playing a really aggressive game.

I plopped down on the grass a few meters back from the courts, and watched the game. It looked like Ares and Apollo (a strange match), against Athena, Dionysus, and a couple other kids, like Jason Grace, Nico Di Angelo, and Percy.

I found myself watching Percy more than the other players, but snapped my eyes away from him once I realised. I didn't want anyone seeing me staring at my best friend.

After a while, the players called for a break, and Jason Grace approached me. "Oh, hey (Y/N)," he smiled at me, sitting beside me and taking a swig of water from a drink bottle.

"Hey," I said back. Again, I was surprised at why Jason was talking to me. He didn't usually. Demeter kids were looked over quite a bit, and Jason was one of the big shots - a child of Zeus. Of course, Percy was a son of Posiedon, and he talked to me, but that was different. I'd known Percy for years, even before we came here at twelve years old. I'd know him since he was seven.

"Are you a child of Hades?" Jason asked suddenly.

I frowned at him. "No. Demeter, actually. Why does everyone keep-?"

I was cut off by Jason grinning and saying: "Because I'm dying to call you mine."

I swallowed. "Um..."

Jason got up and walked away, heading back to his game. I was totally confused, so I stood up, brushed off my jean shorts, and decided to go to the strawberry fields, where I usually spent most of my time, among the plants. Plants always calmed me down, and this random guys telling me pick-up lines were a little stressful. I wasn't the kind of girl who normally got guys, anyway.

After a few minutes of walking up and down the strawberry aisles, I ran into Nico di Angelo. Nico wasn't usually the sort of person you ran into in the strawberry fields, so I was surprised.

"Oh, hi, Nico," I said cheerily, waving at him. Nico and I were actually pretty good friends, so I was glad to see him. We got along surprisingly well, considering our parents' rivalry. You know, the whole Persephone getting kidnapped thing.

"Are you a child of Hephestus?" Nico stammered, blushing with embarrassment.

At this point, I was utterly confused.

"No!" I said, frowning. "I'm a daughter of Demeter, and I know you know that, Nico. And why does everyone keep trying these stupid pick-up lines on me? Besides... you like guys, don't you?"

"Well, um..." Nico shrugged and ran off, leaving me in a state of helpless confusion.

I sank to my knees in the soft grass, picking at it with my fingers. "What's happening with me today?" I wondered aloud.

"Hey, are you Aphrodite?" a familiar voice asked. "Because you're divinely gorgeous."

I glanced up, meeting the sea-green eyes of my best friend. "Percy?" I asked. "You too? What's-?"

Percy stopped me, sitting down cross-legged beside me. "Hey, I've- I've liked you for ages, but I never told you because I was scared you'd not feel the same and so we'd lose our awesome friendship, but the guys found out and so they were trying to make me jealous enough to admit me feelings today, by trying out pick-up lines on you, so, well, I- I decided that I should just tell you.”

I sucked in a breath. "Oh my gods," I managed. "You stupid son of Posiedon."

"What?" Percy chuckled nervously.

"Are you a child of the Sea God?" I asked softly. "Because I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes."

Gathering all my courage, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against Percy's, feeling him smile against my lips, and I couldn't have wished for anything more.

#fanfiction #percy jackson #fanfic #pjo #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #nico di angelo x reader #jason grace x reader #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic #rick riordan

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

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The Prince is Dead [Asgard!Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Shaken by Loki's death on Svartálfheim, you confront the one you blame the most. Odin. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: Angst. Set between TDW and Ragnarok. Mentions of death. Heartbreak. Violent imagery. Melt to fluff (implied)

The sun still rose in the North and set in the South, the way it always did. Clattering swords rang from the training ground, each echo of distant laughter another stake through your chest. But Asgard's golden turrets would still shine garishly in the morning light. As ever it was, so it shall be.

You wrapped a thin shawl tighter around your arms. The Prince is dead, you thought, biting back a sigh. The majestic façade was dulled behind the drape of your mourning veil, grey and lifeless. Or perhaps, you just finally saw things as they truly were.

Five moons had since risen and ebbed while you had lain half-alive in your chambers. Sleep descended in snatches, an unwelcome friend. And of course, you had dreamt of him.

His shadowed smile glancing back as he led you through winding palace paths. His face turned to the ceiling in the bed you shared, frozen in anguish. Bloodless with deep blue veins wound in spider patterns across lifeless cheeks. Or his kiss fastening to your own, a loving whisper of your name on warm lips as he melted into you. When you would wake, that dream was the worst of all.

The Prince is dead, a guard had told you with no emotion. With no sympathy. You had waited until he had retreated to sink to your knees, body racking with silent, violent sobs. No one had seen you cry, though. Loki would have approved.

You assumed that your place within the palace was forfeit. By tradition, you should have been removed immediately. Perhaps Thor had intervened to allow a period of mourning. If he had, it would be the one decent thing he's ever done. You pondered that thought bitterly for a moment, wishing he'd used that sliver of kindness to bring Loki's body home instead.

But either way, it didn't matter now.

You inhaled shakily while nervous fingers wound through the thick fabric of your skirts. To anyone else, they would look black. But in truth they were the deepest, darkest green. A waft of fragrant spice rolled on the wind across the balustrade from the markets, heating the cool air. Gods, how you missed him.

The anger, you would admit, had taken you by surprise. When your face wasn't buried in Loki's pillow, inhaling his waning scent between shuddering tears - it was anger. Only that.

It was anger that had brought the fine Asgardian sculptures in your rooms to their undignified end. Anger that fuelled the plot which burned and blossomed in your mind while shadows danced the walls. Anger that urged to you don silken armour this morning, to parade yourself as bait.

It was anger that kept your head high while you rode the whispers following you like smoke. Anger, you had found, was more of a comfort than remembering. A locket bearing Loki's initial hid beneath your bodice, blossoms from the tree beneath which he had first kissed you preserved inside. A gift. One of his prize daggers was strapped to your thigh, and with every step to your final destination, the cool blade kissed your skin.

Your fingertips steadied on the balustrade wall as a ceremonial clatter of guards approached. Eyes fixed on the old town, you composed yourself. The breeze made the dark veil flutter. There was a single heavy clang as twenty spears hit the marble floor in unison. A growl of stand back broke the heavy silence. The guards complied.

"Why do you mourn him so?" a voice rasped. "You are finally free."

The King's words were thick as he rustled beside your shoulder. Beneath the veil, your frown deepened. "Even from you Allfather, I would expect more sensitivity." you muttered. Odin drew up to his full height, observing the spread of his kingdom with a sanctimonious smirk. Patience, you thought. The absence of your bow was treasonous, and it would have been noted. He let out a forced laugh, meaty hands clasping behind his back. "I expect you may have thought that you loved him. But you did not know him as I did."

"You're right, I didn't."

It was surprising how easily the words came. Strong and clear and crisp. "I knew his heart."

Odin chuckled. "His heart," he mocked. "That you think he had one betrays your naivety. Go, now. Be free."

Bravery welled in your belly like a swollen river, pushing a prick of tears to your eyes. You felt like you might burst. You were suddenly glad the old fuck couldn't see your face.

Patience.

With a god, time was something that could be counted on. Or, it should be. Time to grow and love and to be free. That was the plan for you and Loki. But now, time stretched before you like an endless, lonley void. A sentence. Odin and his arrogance had seen to that.

"You forget yourself Odin, son of Bor," you said; and for a moment, he looked genuinely shocked. Or is he impressed, you thought fleetingly.

"You lost a son-"

You raised a hand as his cracked lips began to move in predictable denial. "A son." you repeated firmly.

The word hung thick between you. "Asgard lost not just a Prince, it lost a protector. The one that shielded them from this palace and its ruler's whims."

Odin was silent.

"And I lost-"

A lump rose in your throat. Everything.

"I know what you lost, " the King spat. "The chance to be queen by the unsurper's side once he had slain the true heir. The chance to wallow in finery and filth encrusted sheets while that disgraced Jotun defiled you at any time of the day or night. Plotting."

You shook your head. And you couldn't help it. You laughed.

"For all your years, you know nothing. Nothing about truth, or destiny, or love. I see that now-"

"Love," Odin scoffed, cutting in." If you loved him, you were the only one who ever did. "

"I love him still," you murmured, turning towards the rolling mountains. Your fingers played at the hilt of the dagger through the slit in your gown. "Forget him." Odin sniffed, waving a hand. "You will be the better for it, we all will."

His loaded dismissal blew away any lingering doubt.

Loki's face flashed behind your eyelids, a vision of the day he had finally let you in to his solitary world. Golden specks of dust had swirled within a single beam of amber light cutting through the healing room. He had sat perched on a single bed, elbows resting on his knees. Despite the lengthy battle, his skin glowed luminous in the dying song of day. Deep wounds streaked across his stomach and ribs and back, purple bruises marring his skin like the darkest storm-clouds. His leather armour lay in a ragged pile by his feet. Blood crept from its crevices, seeping into the cracks of the stone floor.

You had cried then, too. Only once.

"It will heal," he had said, cupping your cheek with a strained smile. "Do not waste your worry."

"I can't help it," you'd replied, tracing your fingertips over a gash in his side. Loki had winced. As you watched, the skin began to stretch and meld millimetre by millimetre. "You shall have to become more stoic if you are to be my wife one day," Loki smiled. There was a pause, before he frowned. "Does it make you feel better? The worry?"

"Yes," you had answered truthfully. You curled a lock of damp hair behind his ear. Someone has to worry for you, you'd thought. Loki smiled again. "Then I'll allow it," he murmured softly, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. And he did.

A silent tear rolled down your cheek as your fingers crept around the daggers hilt. The peace of the realm would soon be broken. Wails of anguish would rinse the clouds, public displays of grief filling the air with heavy sighs and glowing orbs. It should have been allowed for your love, but it wasn't. Asgard should be in mourning, and soon it would be- you would make sure of that. You only wished you would be there to see it.

"He loved you all, and I'll never know why," you said solemnly, heat flushing your cheeks. "It was never deserved, never appreciated. Especially not by you." The final word darted like venom between your teeth.

Odin laughed. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"I never did understand him," he crooned, not deigning to look at you. The dagger slid from it's hold against your thigh. "You never tried." you whispered.

In the briefest of moments, you whipped the dagger with trained precision. The thin blade rested beneath the god's chin, digging into soft, fat flesh. From behind, the guards would see nothing.

"Ah," the Allfather hummed, tilting his head back ever so slightly. His stance never changed. "I commend your audacity my dear. Truly. But you see, I am not the monster that you think I am."

Something in his tone made you pause. You had been fully prepared to sink Loki's dagger into his throat without mercy. Ready to hear the wet gurgle of breath fighting blood. Escaping retribution from this was not an option, but you didn't want it. You wanted to see the look on Odin's face as the lights went out. You wanted to see his one staring eye glaze to the heavens as life left him. For him to know with his dying rattle that someone cared enough for Loki of Asgard to avenge him, no matter the cost.

"You are a monster," you panted through gritted teeth. An unnerving smile began to crawl across Odin's lips. "True," he said coyly. "But not the one you think I am."

Your eye twitched, taking in the opaque blue of his stare that suddenly sparkled with more life than you had seen in years. Your stomach churned, the hand holding the blade beginning to tremble.

"With my dagger too, how poetic," Odin whispered with a smirk.

You gasped, jumping back as the blade tumbled towards the ground. It disappeared in a flash of seidr before hitting the marble.

It can't be-

"Guards!" the Allfather thundered, straightening as they resumed their posts. "Show the Lady to my private chambers. There are matters regarding Prince Loki's memorial we must urgently discuss."

You saw the guards throw confused glances to one another as you stood slack-jawed beneath the veil. Odin raised your hand, placing a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

"It will heal," he murmured against your skin, before letting the hand fall limply to your side. The King leant closer, the ghost of his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Do not waste your worry."

The familiar words ricochet between your ears, heart thumping as you followed the jostling procession across the balustrade. It was all you could do not to faint. The implications, if your mind did not play tricks, were too vast.

So you decided to focus on the gait of the King as you placed one foot in front of the other. On the swagger that had not been there when you last spoke weeks before. As if the weight of another’s passion still hung between his thighs. He would not part with that. You smiled, feeling it grow as you watched the unmistakable way his shoulders swayed back and forth with each long stride. The undeniable spring in his step. Singularly focused, like another you had known. It held a promise. A hope.

It was a ten minute walk to the King's chambers.

So you focused on the sway of his shoulders. On the mischievous spring in his step. Only that.

A/N - I wrote this on the back of a bus in Morocco and haven't messed with it much - i do like the concept though, hope you do too! Thanks to @lokischambermaid for her enthusiasm when I first mentioned it a while back :) Love you! x If you want to see what 'after' might look like - check out Praise Him (smut) which is also based on this concept :) It's one of my earlier fics though and it shows 😂

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

#loki x reader #loki marvel #loki laufeyson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki angst #loki odinson #loki fanfiction #loki x reader angst #loki angst and fluff #loki fanfic #loki gif #loki oneshot #loki odinson x reader #LGG writes #loki dark world #loki imagine

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sapphicbookclub · 11 months

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Pride Flag Book Recs #4 🌈

Another pride month is upon us and as per tradition, I bring you more books to make your shelves more rainbow-er than ever!

If you missed the previous posts, find them here: #1, #2, #3.

Unconquerable Sun by Kate Elliott, Cow Girl by Kirsty Eyre, Rise to the Sun by Leah Johnson, Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers, The Red Scholar's Wake by Aliette de Bodard

Easy Nevada and the Pyramid's Curse by Georgette Kaplan, The Black God's Drums by P. Djèlí Clark, The Unbroken by C. L. Clark, Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh, Alice Payne Arrives by Kate Heartfield

Scorpica by G. R. Macallister, Melt With You by Jennifer Dugan, Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield, Read Between the Lines by Rachel Lacey, For Her Consideration by Amy Spalding

Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail by Ashley Herring Blake, Sisters of the Vast Black by Lina Rather, The Oleander Sword by Tasha Suri, Laurel Everywhere by Erin Moynihan, The Witch and the Vampire by Francesca Flores

Catch and Cradle by Katia Rose, Among Thieves by M. J. Kuhn, These Fleeting Shadows by Kate Alice Marshall, Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki, The Mask of Mirrors by M. A. Carrick

Delilah Green Doesn't Care by Ashley Herring Blake, One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston, Some Girls Do by Jennifer Dugan, Afterlove by Tanya Byrne, The Shattered Lands by Brenna Nation

Happy Pride Month Reading! ❤️💛🧡💚💙💜

#pride month #sapphic books #lgbt books #wlw books #booklr #book recs

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shakespeareanwannabe · 5 months

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As You Wish, Chapter 1

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister, reader is described as having a tattoo and goes by Buttercup, verbal arguing, almost physical fighting, alcohol use, references to death and loss and mourning

Jake’s House, a few months after the Uranium Mission

When she had been invited to Miramar to visit her older brother, Robert Floyd, she had been given two ground rules. Follow all of Robby’s instructions so as to not get into trouble with the locals or the top brass. And do not fall for Hangman’s charms.

The first rule was easy. She was a rule follower by nature, allowing herself to be ruled by her brain and her built in sense of logic, so following Robby’s lead was easy. And she’d assumed that the second rule would be easy as well. Anyone named Hangman was not someone she was interested in getting to know, especially since her brother had told her almost a year ago that the man earned the nickname by always leaving his wingmen hanging as he chased the glory for himself. Though Robby had seemed to relax his personal views of Hangman after their latest top secret mission, he remained firm that he wasn’t going to allow his baby sister to become one of his co-worker’s (dare he say friend’s) conquests.

And yet, here she was, three months after she was supposed to leave to go back to New York, cuddled up on Hangman’s couch as they settled in for another movie night. So much for letting her brain rule and following her innate logic.

Her brain was mush and her logic had gone out the window the second he’d asked her to stay, and she knew it wouldn’t be coming back so long as he was tracing his long fingers up and down the length of her spine as she laid on his chest, her head slowly rising and falling as they watched her all time favourite movie.

She sighed happily as she felt his plush lips press into her hairline.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” he whispered as two characters sword fought on screen.

“How happy I am,” she murmured into his chest. “And how lucky. I’m lucky I found you, lucky my job is letting me work remote, lucky to feel so happy.”

Jake pulled her closer, tangling their legs together beneath the light throw blanket that had been tossed over them. “I’m happy too,” he whispered, watching as the main character on screen was now struggling to fight a giant. “Even though I have zero idea what is happening in this movie,” he added with a chuckle.

“That’s because you’ve been too busy trying to cop a feel to pay attention to a seminal classic of our generation.”

“Can you blame me? You’re literally on top of me. No guy in his right mind is going to pass up that kind of opportunity.”

She giggled. “Well, try to focus because my favourite part is coming up.”

Jake pouted but agreed, watching as the man in black outwitted the smaller man, grabbed the princess, and took off running.

“This is your favourite part?” he chuckled as the man in black mocked the princess’s pain.

“Would you hush?” she clapped a hand over his mouth, then shrieked as he licked her palm. “You’re disgusting!” she giggled, wiping her hand down his shirt. “Ooh! This is it!” She turned her attention completely to the screen as the princess shoved her captor down a large hill.

“As…you…wish!” the man called as he tumbled head over heels, the princess following straight after him.

“There had to be an easier way to follow him down the hill,” Jake joked.

“Jake!” she whined, craning her head to look at him from her position against his chest. “She doesn’t care! Buttercup doesn’t feel any pain. Her Westley is alive, so she’s so happy she could fly! Now stop ruining it!”

“Alright, I’m sorry. Hey…” he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry. Thank you for sharing this with me, Buttercup.”

She blinked, her head cocking to the side in an inquisitive display that made him melt. “Buttercup?”

“Yeah. You’re brave and clever and loyal, definitely stubborn, and I have no doubt that you’d push someone down a hill for insulting you if you knew you could get away with it. Plus…” he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips this time, grinning as she gasped lightly. “I’d definitely fight a determined Hispanic swordfighter, a giant, and a conniving Wallace Shawn to keep you safe.”

She giggled, resting her head back on his chest. “Buttercup…I kinda like that.”

Camp Silver Star, Now

Abby quickly settled into her cabin, a cozy wooden building with four sets of bunk beds and large windows that opened onto the woods that surrounded them. Her cabinmates were nice enough, not judging her for her slight British accent, though there were some questions as to why a child with family in the American military had a British accent. However, by the end of the first day as the eight girls shared stories and jokes about their lives. They had all been impressed when they found out that her mum was a famous author, most of the girls recognizing her mother’s penname from their own bookshelves back home, and even more impressed when they found out her uncle and aunt had flown with the near infamous Dagger Squad. Most of the girls in her cabin had family in the Navy, so they were at least semi familiar with stories of the defunct but elite squad of fighter pilots. Her mum had been right, in a way. Being around other children who had family in the military (whether they were currently serving or retired, like her aunt and uncle) was a bonding experience. Plus, it helped that she genuinely liked the other girls. They were friendly and two of them, her bunkmate Isabelle and her friend Max, even wanted to be fighter pilots, just like her.

Abby could feel the sting of homesickness fade with every day that passed. She filed things away in her brain, stories that she wanted to share with her mum when she was able to call her on Phone Home Fridays, activities she wanted to continue once she was back home, jokes she wanted to tell her aunt to see if she could earn a rare smile. She even planned on begging Penny, the owner of the camp, for some of her recipes to take home, because the food was absolutely delicious.

Abby sniffed as the scent of maple and salt hit her nose as the door to the dining cabin was thrown open and her troop strolled inside for breakfast on the first Friday of her visit to camp. Pancakes were apparently a Friday morning tradition at Camp Silver Star, and Abby could feel herself salivating at the very thought. She was about to make a beeline for the breakfast counter when she heard a voice calling her name.

“Abby!” Max pouted. “My braid came undone. Can you help?”

Abby rolled her eyes fondly. Max had extremely curly hair and always complained about it getting in her eyes when they were doing activities, so Abby had started braiding it for her.

“Yes,” she called back, eyeing the long line of campers jealously as she turned her back on the table laden with all her breakfast favourites, just missing a young camper rushing behind her to bypass the line and go straight to the woman manning the tongs.

“Hey Amelia, does the fruit salad have cantaloupe in it? Because I’m allergic,” Charlie stated, holding out her bowl of fruit salad. She’d been so distracted by the delicious smells and the juicy gossip she was sharing with her friends that she had totally missed that very crucial detail.

“Oh shoot! Yeah, it does. Sorry, Charlie. I’ll talk to the cooks about leaving cantaloupe out of the fruit salad. You and another camper are allergic, so that really can’t be happening.”

“Thanks, Amelia. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, and I’ll appreciate not getting yelled at by your dad for letting you go into anaphylactic shock,” Amelia winked and Charlie grinned. She’d known Amelia just as long as she’d known Penny, given that Amelia was Penny’s daughter and she’d been present for all visits and memorials for her stepdad.

“Don’t worry. Your mom still scares him, so he wouldn’t yell. Too much.”

Amelia rolled her eyes playfully. “Thank god for small miracles.”

Charlie waved and walked over to her cabin’s table, not paying any attention to the camper who had just sidled up to the breakfast table.

“Good morning,” Abby chirped happily as Amelia turned away from her to grab a plate. “I have a quick question about your fruit salad, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, kiddo. What’s up?”

“Would there happen to be cantaloupe in your fruit salad? I’m unfortunately allergic.”

Amelia’s brow furrowed as she turned back to face the camper. “I already to — oh!” She blinked as though she was trying to erase a sudden case of double vision. “Oh. A-Abigail, right?” When the camper nodded at her, she giggled nervously. “Yeah. Abigail. Hi. Hi. I’m—I’m Amelia. W-we know about your allergy. You a-and another student—I mean—camper have the same allergy. I…I’m gonna go talk to the cooks right now and make sure they know not to put any more cantaloupe in the fruit salad. Okay?” Amelia rambled, backing up and almost bumping into a cook bringing out a hot tray of bacon. “Oops! Sorry, Ralph! Can you take over for me for a quick second? Thank you!”

Abby was left scratching her head, wondering why the breakfast lady was so jumpy, and particularly curious as to why she could be heard running towards the main office screaming, “MOM!”

Abby and her cabin had spent the morning in the flight simulator, which had only served to cement her desire to be a Navy aviator like her aunt and uncle. She couldn’t wait until later that afternoon, when she could use the computers to video chat with her family back home and tell them all about how she had almost made it to the end of the program without crashing once. Until then, her cabin, Cabin 4, was scheduled with Cabin 7 for horseback riding. And while Abby was an accomplished English rider, she would much rather be joining the queue at the computer building. But, since she couldn’t skip the activity, she lined up with the rest of her cabinmates along the wooden fence that sectioned off the riding ring.

A girl inside the ring was just finishing up her turn on a small course of jumps that had been set up at the opposite end of the ring.

“Way to go, Charlie!” the riding instructor called as the girl, riding a large palomino, trotted back to the entrance of the ring.

“No sweat,” the girl, Charlie, shrugged as she dismounted with ease and patted the horse’s neck. “Champ’s a sweetheart, and that course is nothing compared to the one back home.”

The instructor, Karen, rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, we shouldn’t expect anything less from the ranch girl from Texas. Would anyone like to try to top Charlie’s time?” she called, looking down the line at the rest of the campers.

“I’ll give it a go,” Abby volunteered, adjusting her helmet and leading her horse, Rosita, towards the gate. “I’m a pretty decent rider.”

“I’m not sure ‘pretty decent’ is going to cut it, but suit yourself,” Charlie retorted as she passed.

“Charlie, be nice!” Karen barked, her eyes scanning over Rosita’s tack to make sure it was properly fitted.

“Sorry, Karen,” Charlie replied in a tone that suggested to Abby that the apology was less than sincere.

Abby rolled her eyes and mounted up, patting Rosita’s chestnut hide as she settled into the saddle.

“Don’t let Charlie get to you, okay?” Karen murmured, tightening the girth of Rosita’s saddle. “She’s a nice kid, just a little…”

“Ostentatious?”

Karen stifled a smile. “You all set?”

Abby nodded, gathering her reins and clicking her tongue. “I’ve got this.”

Charlie smirked as the other camper started off at a trot, but that smirk slowly faded as she and the horse started going through the course with ease, clearing the jumps and obstacles with greater ease than she and Champ had. She was left to scoff as the pair cleared the last jump with ease and cantered back to the starting line, the kids from Cabin 4 cheering her on as Karen announced that she had beat her time by one and a half seconds.

“It’s alright, Charlie. You’ll get her next time,” assured Ryann, her bunkmate, as they led their horses back to the stables to groom them and bed them down for the night.

“It’s probably because she was riding English style,” Charlie grumped. “Everyone knows its easier to jump in English style.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” a posh voice sounded behind them, and Charlie rolled her eyes.

“How would you know? Have you ever tried to ride Western?” Charlie challenged, stepping closer. The girl didn’t back down, clipping her horse onto the tether outside the stall and stepping up to her.

“No. Have you ever tried riding English?”

“No, but—”

“Then you can’t claim that one is easier than the other, can you?”

The other girls from Cabin 4 laughed, and Charlie felt her blood boil. She hated being laughed at. It happened enough at her school back home and she absolutely despised it.

“Yeah, well English riders are usually stuck up rich kids anyway. How much did your mommy and daddy spend to teach you how to ride like that?” she snapped, feeling her face flush with anger and envy.

Abby felt tears pool in her eyes. “I…I mean…”

“Why are the horses just standing around, not being groomed?” Karen questioned as she strolled in from the office, taking in the stiffness between the two girls and the heaviness in the air.

“I…it’s nothing, Karen,” Abby murmured, taking her helmet off and pulling her hair out of its low bun.

“Yeah. We’re fine,” Charlie added on, removing her helmet and allowing her blond hair to cascade over her shoulders, ignoring the gasp of surprise from those around her.

Charlie turned to put her helmet on the shelf at the same time as Abby, their eyes locking with hurt and anger glimmering beneath the matching green seas.

Abby’s eyes blinked in shock and Charlie schooled her features.

“What are you looking at?” she muttered.

“I…I mean, we…”

“You two are practically identical!” Ryann screeched, the horses nickering in surprise.

“You’re dreaming, Ry,” Charlie stepped around her and started brushing down Champ.

“I agree with her,” Abby stated, stepping up to Champ’s other side and meeting her eyes. “If you take away a few cosmetic differences, we look the exact same.”

Charlie shook her head. “You’re imagining things. Or you need to get your eyes checked.”

Abby scoffed and crossed her arms. “I have perfect vision, I’ll have you know. And I’m not imagining things.”

“Well, I think you are!” Charlie dug her heels in. “There’s no way I look like someone as snooty as you!”

Abby crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t particularly want to look like a cornfed hick either, but at least I’m not delusional and denying the situation.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Girls, girls!” Karen appeared at Champ’s head, soothing the now nervous horse. “Take a walk. Both of you. Cool off before you call home. And I don’t want to hear any more negative talk like that. Not in my stables.”

An echo of “yes Karen” bounced off the walls as the girls glared at each other and stalked off with their cabinmates, each set of girls trying to calm down the green eyed blond in their midst.

“Ugh, dad! But you promised!”

Charlie glared at the pixelated likeness of her father’s face. Normally, she would’ve been thrilled to see her dad. He had a kind face that let Charlie know that, even when he was mad or tired or frustrated, he loved her, the crow’s feet at his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks appearing every time he smiled at her. They appeared now as he grinned at her through the computer screen.

“I know I did. But I’m still saying no. And that’s because the only complaint I’ve heard is about this girl,” Jake Seresin chuckled. “Otherwise, you seem to be having a great time. And I know Penny is taking good care of you.”

“Well, yeah…” Charlie muttered. “But she called me a cornfed hick!” She purposefully left out the argument they had about possibly looking alike, because Charlie knew it was not the truth.

“Only after you called her snooty, punk,” Jake shook his head. “I know I’ve taught you not to dish it out if you can’t take it.”

“I know, but…but she’s so infuriating!” Charlie moaned as she sat back in her seat.

“You want me to come down there and handle it, Charlie?” a voice called as a moustachioed man in a Hawaiian shirt crowded into the screen.

“You are not going out there to handle an 11-year-old, dude,” another man appeared on the call.

“It’s fine, Uncle Roo,” Charlie giggled. “Listen to Uncle Javy.”

“Yeah, Uncle Roo, listen to Uncle Javy and get out of here,” Jake parroted, glaring at his best friend.

“Hey, don’t put words in my mouth,” Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado countered, leaning further into view. “You’ve just got to find something you’re better at than her and beat her at it. That’ll teach her.”

“Yeah!” Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw crowed, leaning in on the other side, completely blocking Jake from view. “I’m sure you could hustle her in darts! You and your dad have been beating us since you were big enough to handle sharp objects!”

“Alright, alright, enough!” Jake shoved his way through the two other men and glared at them. “Would you mind giving me a moment alone with my daughter?”

Charlie giggled as her uncles blinked at her, then at her dad, before muttering about rudeness and walking away, waving at her as they clicked the door shut in the distance.

“Sorry about those animals,” Jake joked but Charlie shook her head.

“No, it’s okay. I missed them too.”

“Ah. I see how it is,” he pouted.

“Oh, c’mon, dad. You know I miss you most.”

Jake smiled softly, gazing softly at his little girl. “Yeah, I miss you most too.” He sighed. “Listen, kiddo, I…I wanted to tell you something. I—”

“Alright, girls!” Penny called. “Time to switch and let the next batch of girls have their turn.

“Maybe you can tell me next week?” Charlie suggested as she prepared to log off, her heart panging at the thought of not seeing her dad for another week, but the lack of communication was supposed to simulate not always being able to talk to your family while you’re overseas. Plus, it made things equitable for those who had parents in the military, because they wouldn’t have to hear their cabinmates talking about frequent talks with their folks.

Jake nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, I guess so. Hey, punk?”

“Yeah, dad?”

He grinned. “I love you lots.”

“I love you lots too,” she murmured, feeling herself choke up at the pang of homesickness she felt. “I’ll see you next week, okay?”

“Okay, kiddo. Bye.”

Charlie blinked at the black screen before slowly standing up and walking away, only pausing to glare at Abby as she strolled by and sat in the same cubicle she had just been using.

Her uncles were right. When the time came, she would whoop that prissy girl’s butt in darts, just like her daddy had taught her.

“But mum!” Her Aunt Natasha smothered a chuckle at Abby’s affronted tone. “You and Uncle Bob promised!”

Her mother sighed, pressing her fingers into her eyelids. “I know, love. I’m sorry. But having a small spat with another camper doesn’t mean your uncle can drop everything and come to get you. I’m sorry.”

“But…but…”

“What’s this about, kiddo?” Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace asked from her position next to Abby’s mother. “I know you, you don’t quit on something just because some little bit-ter girl gave you grief.”

Abby giggled weakly at her aunt’s poor attempt at covering the near curse.

“What is it, darling?” her mum leaned closer, close enough for Abby to make out the small buttercup flower tattoo on her clavicle where it peeked out from her neckline. She had seen that tattoo her entire life and it always brought her comfort. She knew from experience that it was the reason her aunt and uncle always called her mum Buttercup.

“She said that I was prissy and snooty and that my mommy and daddy must’ve paid a lot of money for me to be able to ride like I do,” she almost whispered, but she knew from the pain in her mother’s eyes that she had heard her.

“Oh, baby, I…”

“Yeah, no, I was right the first time. What a little bit—”

“Nat!” Buttercup cried, whipping her head around to stare at her best friend. “Not helping!”

“What? You want me to just sit here while someone insults our girl?”

“Yes, I want you to sit there and let me handle it!”

Nat rolled her eyes and stood, half disappearing from frame. “Well, in that case, I’m just gonna go. Bye, kiddo.”

“Bye Auntie Nat,” Abby called at her aunt’s retreating back.

Buttercup sighed again, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry, baby. I know that talking about your father is a sensitive subject—”

“Yes, because I don’t know anything about him!”

“I…I know,” Buttercup murmured, leaning in closer to the screen. “And I know we should’ve had a conversation about him a long time ago, but…”

Abby’s shoulders heaved and she leaned in close too. “I know. I’m sorry, mum.”

Buttercup smiled softly. “My sweet girl…you have nothing to be sorry about. I…I’ll tell you what. We’ll have a girl’s day when you get back and we’ll have that conversation.”

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

“Thank you, mum.”

Buttercup smiled at her through the screen. “You shouldn’t have to thank me for having a much-needed conversation with my growing daughter. And in the meantime, please just ignore this girl. I’m afraid that engaging in more competition with this girl will escalate the situation beyond either of your control.”

“But mum!”

“Just ignore her. She’s probably taking something wrong in her life out on you.”

“So, you want me to be the bigger person?”

“I know it’s not fair, but yes. I know you have the same competitive spirit as your uncle and Nat, and that you need that competitive spirit to make it at the Naval Academy and at Top Gun, but right now you’re just a kid. So, please, just let it go.”

“Mum, I—”

“Alright, girls! Say goodbye and let the next group have a chance!” Penny called.

“Abby, promise me.”

“Bye mum! Love you!”

Buttercup sighed before smiling. “I love you too, sweetheart. Take care.”

Abby smiled, feeling a small pang of loneliness as she looked at her mother’s kind face. “I’ll see you soon, mum,” she murmured before closing the tab and sighing. She had been feeling so much better about being away from home, but seeing her mother’s face made the longing for home rush back. Home was her mom, her uncle, and her Aunt Nat, where everyone understood her and nobody questioned her small, odd family. Home was not Camp Silver Star, where a girl who looked just like her gave her attitude and made her think about a huge part of her life that was missing.

“Sorry, mum,” she whispered to herself. She loved her mom and often took her advice, but not this time. She could not in good conscience just ignore this girl. That’s not how she operated. So she would find a way to put this Charlie girl in her place, whether her mother liked it or not.

While the other campers were making their phone calls home, the kids who had already made their calls or were waiting to call got to hang out in the games cabin. It was full of a mix of old and new arcade games, an air hockey table, board games, a couple of pool tables, and a dart board.

When Abby arrived at the games cabin, she immediately spotted Charlie and her friends standing at the dart board and an idea sparked in Abby’s brain. She was decent at darts, her aunt and uncle had made sure of it, and she was good at bluffing. Perhaps this was something that she could beat Charlie at.

Rolling her shoulders back, she strode over to the small group of girls and cleared her throat.

“I’ll play winner,” she declared, staring Charlie down.

The other blond smirked and nodded. “Done deal,” she chuckled and threw a dart, not daring to break eye contact.

Abby turned at the sound of cheers and gasps, and saw the dart sticking directly in the bullseye, her heart sinking at the sight. She was, in fact, decent at darts, but clearly Charlie was more than decent. This would be more difficult than she thought.

“And that—” Charlie let the dart fly and smirked in triumph. “Is game.”

Abby sighed but something occurred to her as Charlie’s friends surrounded her for a congratulatory hug.

“I guess that makes us tied!” she called over the din, causing it to silence immediately as Charlie turned to her.

“What are you talking about? I beat you.”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed. “At darts. But I beat you in the riding ring. So that makes us tied.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count. I beat you fair and square.”

“If you insist…I suppose that means you’re too scared to face me at billiards.”

Charlie froze, a scowl marring her eerily familiar features. “I’m not scared.”

“Prove it,” Abby stepped up to her, gesturing to one of the empty pool tables. “Winner can even break.”

“Fine,” Charlie muttered through gritted teeth. At least she knew she was a champ at pool too. She had been playing with her dad and uncles since she was tall enough to reach the tabletop. However, she gulped as she watched Abby expertly rack the balls and chalk her cue, maybe it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Eight ball, corner pocket!” Abby crowed as the ball sunk neatly into the net.

Charlie groaned, leaning on her pool cue. They had been pretty evenly matched up until one of Charlie’s stripes had ricocheted wrong and sunk one of Abby’s solids. After that, Abby had proceeded to sink every one of her balls neatly, ending with the solid black eight ball. Charlie had never seen anything like it, not even when her dad was playing against Javy and Rooster.

Abby approached her, her hand outstretched with a small, taunting grin gracing her face. “Good match. I believe that makes us 2-1.”

Charlie smacked her hand away as a bolt of frustration tore through her. “I told you! Your little stunt while riding didn’t count! Besides, even if it did count, Rosita did all the hard work anyway!”

“Then I suppose it was Champ who did all the hard work while you were riding the course!”

“That’s not true and you know it! I’ve spent my entire life on the back of a horse! You’re only a half decent rider because your mommy and daddy paid for you to be.”

Abby fought back the tears that almost always automatically pooled in her eyes at the mention of her parents. “Stop. Saying. That. You don’t know the first thing about me!”

“Or. What? You gonna sic your mommy and daddy on me?”

The two girls were nose to nose, their friends and fellow campers huddled around them in a circle, anxious to see exactly what was going to happen.

“Ahh!” Abby’s cry was sharp and painfilled as she pushed Charlie away from her, but Charlie had been working on her father’s ranch since before she could walk and she wasn’t so easily swayed.

“That’s it!” She grabbed for Abby, but before she could make contact, she felt a firm hand grip her arm and looked up to see Penny standing above them, holding the two of them apart as her nostrils flared.

“I will not tolerate any fighting in this camp,” she stated stonily, glaring between Charlie and Abby. “And from what I’ve heard, the two of you have been at each other’s throats all day.”

“W-what are you going to do with us?” Abby murmured, her eyes heavy with fear.

“Send us home?” Charlie tacked on hopefully.

Penny sighed heavily. “No. The two of you will be assisting with extra chores around the camp instead of participating in group activities for two weeks. And…you will be removed from your cabins and placed into a smaller cabin. Together.”

Charlie gasped. “You can’t—”

“And you will be there for the rest of your stay. Together. Amelia will come get you for your meals and escort you to the dining hall, where you will be allowed to sit with your friends. Other than that, you will be living together, cleaning together, and working together until you two can figure out how to get along.”

“Mrs. Mitchell—”

“Aunt Penny—”

“My decision is final. You have ten minutes to grab all your belongings and to meet me by the trail head. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Mrs. Mitchell.”

“Yes, Aunt Penny.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

Penny sighed as she sat at her desk, her small office only lit by her desk lamp and the faint hint of moonlight trickling in from the window. It had been a long day. Between Amelia hunting her down and explaining that there were a pair of doppelgängers at camp, Karen’s report about a verbal altercation during riding practice, and one of her younger campers running to tell her about two girls getting into an argument in the games cabin, she knew she deserved the small glass of whiskey she was currently sipping on. The campers were safe, the security systems were set, and Amelia had opted to sleep close to the smaller cabin where her two problem campers were now housed, claiming that she’d be able to step in before any blood was shed if the two girls went at it again.

Penny sighed again, rolling her neck before looking at the photo frame she had on her desk.

“I don’t know, Mav,” she whispered to the portrait of her late husband, dressed in his military whites as he waited for her to come down the aisle. “Maybe inviting Charlie and Abby here at the same time was a mistake.” She laughed quietly before taking another sip of her drink. “I know, I know. You would’ve wanted me to invite them the second I opened this place, but I wanted to have a year or two experience before I tried to do…this.” She shook her head. “They’re just so angry at each other. And at themselves. God, they remind me so much of Amelia after I split from her dad. But at least she was old enough to understand. And I wasn’t hiding a whole sibling from her either.” Penny drained her glass and leaned in close to the picture. “I know. You’re right. It’s my duty to try to fix this…the way you wanted to before you died.” Penny sighed shakily and wiped her eyes. “I miss you, Mav. I know you would’ve known how to bring Charlie and Abby together if you were here. I’ll do my best. I love you.”

With that, Penny pressed a light kiss to the glass of the frame, thousands of lip prints providing proof of her nightly ritual, and stood to stretch before heading off to bed, her head swimming with different ideas on how to bring the two girls together.

—————————-

Tags List: @mamachasesmayhem, @jessicab1991 @waltermis @buckysteveloki-me @allepaula @yuckosworld @seresinsbrat @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kim-stark @cierra715 @high-speed-r @helpmepleasethanks @starsrfun @tomanyfandomstrash @averyhotchner @the-blueatlas @princessliz86 @dashes-dizzydisaster @a-girl-who-loves-disney @boiolay @djs8891 @torimcc @tgmreader @kmc1989 @landpiranha-blog @sydthekid1518 @lynnevanss @hello7442 @mackenzieblair @minejungwoo @starset21 @ssa-sadboi @tgmavericklover @dempy @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @lovemarvelousfics, @starkleila, @magical-spit, @whatislovevavy, @simplyreading96, @vivalas-vega

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #parent trap au #jake hangman seresin #glen powell #jake hangman fic #as you wish fic

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thesirencult · 7 months

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PAC READING: YOUR DIVINE FEMININE'S AURA

Discussing your feminine's general aura and characteristics. Friendly for both men and girls/theys who like girls. You can also pick it to see how your aura is as a feminine ❤️

Book your reading by sending me a private message xoxo S.

Pile 1

7 of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, 10 of swords

Your DF has the aura of a sweet herbal witch. She lives in her little cabin in the woods and like a fairy she works on perfecting her craft. Greens and purples look great on her.

This is a slow and steady energy. This is someone who loves taking their time. She loves learning and implementing her skills. Making coffee becomes a daily ritual and same goes as washing the dishes.

Her attention to detail is immaculate and that can drive you crazy sometimes but you know that with all that good comes some bad. Very well presented, you can take her anywhere and all eyes will be on her. Very earthy, stable and focused on building a foundation for all things practical before she jumps onto commitment.

Her steady "working on myself" attitude stems from getting backstabbed one too many times. She knows that she has to build herself up and after that all her dreams will manifest. She is into self development and may love going through that tag on Tumblr. She may even be a blogger herself.

She is investing in herself and doesn't shy away from learning about accounting or law. Nothing will stand on her way to that cute fairy cottage *aggressive cute walk* 😉.

Pile 2

9 of pentacles, queen of swords, the magician

Whoever has this DF as a counterpart or has that aura, WOW. Miss Independent. A handful. We love seeing that *sprinkle, sprinkle* here. CEO. That's C-Suite energy!

This woman is someone powerful and dominant. Like a race horse you will always bet on because you KNOW, it will always come first 😉 (pun intended). She works very very hard for what she wants and similar to pile 1 she can be in accounting, finance and law. Good with numbers and her hands. I bet she has a dirty sense of humour.

From the first moment you see her you will know she is the real deal. Others blend in the background while she power walks in the room. Penetrating stare and red bottom high heels, her allure is different. She doesn't have to show dominance, others feel that she is the boss. Mami energy. Ferocious when someone comes for her loved ones. She could even be in law enforcement.

Red and brown. Symbolising high energy that's still grounded and serious. Do not cross her.

Pile 3

King Of Swords, Knight Of Wands, Ace Of Swords

Now, this one? A handful ! Try to tie her down. You just can't. A brat.

This person is very fluid. They don't care about terms and conditions. They are highly intelligent and her mind walks a thin line between spirituality and logic. The most unconventional, they will find a solution no one sees yet it's right in front of them. Highly intellectual and well versed in philosophy and math.

This reminds of a movie with James Franco where he played a start up founder who was into spirituality. A crazy genius. A party is a party and they will be there.

Partying in Ibiza? They've done that. Phuket for a Muay Thai Camp? That did that last year! Eiffel tower to try a croissant with pistachio filling? They just got back yesterday and guess what? They hate pistachios.

This person is the type to run a start up company focused on clean energy and when shit hits the fun they will call an astrologer and ask for recommendations. They respect everyone. They will listen to your mom and dad when they talk about their days and take mental notes of great ideas. They know great ideas come from the most unconventional places and fields.

Pile 4

Page Of Cups, Page Of Swords, The Fool (5 Of Swords + 8 Of Swords + 5 Of Pentacles flew out)

This can be my age difference pile. They will run you to the ground lol.

This is someone with lots of mental capacity. You ask them about World War II and they will tell you how Nazis and Churchill used astrology and why the war happened and after 5 hours you will be listening to them about Ancient Mesopotamia. "How did we get here?" You will think.

Well, it doesn't matter cause you love listening to their voice and their warm heartfelt laugh. They look innocent and pure and even if they try to intimidate you you will let them think they can but in reality they look like a cinnamon roll and they are a cinnamon roll. Their life was not the best and they have lots of trust issues. They may look innocent but their eyes hide a painful past. Like a kitten thrown out and left out in the cold they feel lost and unappreciated.

You listening to them means the world and you will be shocked at how appreciative they are and how loving with you. They are very romantic and they may have great expectations and daydreams about their love life.

I get that you might start off as friends and meet in a very random way on a daily run or while getting groceries or a tire changed. You will immediately fall in love with them and they will seem like they don't suspect a thing. Let me tell you, they know, they are just too scared to show their feelings and until you grab them and kiss em you won't know how much passion is brewing underneath this innocent and clever facade. They might turn into pile number 2 in a few years lol.

Ready for everything, you will always be a warm embrace and their home when they come back from exploration. You will love how they yawn while reading a book and how they stretch when they wake up showing revealing their tummy. They are cute to you, even if everyone else sees them differently, that's how you view them. They might be a black mysterious cat but you think of them as a tired little kitten waiting for a safe home that will accept them as they are.

#astrology #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #future spouse

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dr3amofagame · 6 months

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it's just really fucking wild to see the way that c!dream's reputation has shifted over time. bc if we're looking at the period of time in the server where items >>>> everything, because physical damage was treated in-universe as meaning literally nothing and people were dying + killing each other in traps and for Bits and because of random skirmishes left and right, where a lot of the biggest conflicts on the server revolved around pets (and my god does c!Sapnap deserve his title as the pet-killer, by the way, this mans literally just went on rampages) mr. "notorious for his usage of items as leverage + attachments to get what he wants" actually. like. doesn't do much of that.

c!dream was known as the guy that would reliably actually, you know, not destroy your shit because he understood that leverage is useless when you get rid of it--as opposed to c!sapnap (who mostly just destroyed shit in revenge), c!skeppy ("but it would make me feel good 😊" over burning a disc), and like. gestures at the majority of the pet wars and the sheer amount of just killing people's animals that happened there. despite multiple incidents involving fake discs, c!dream was a guy that you could reliably actually trade fairly with when you proceeded with the trade in good faith (whereas c!clingy, honestly, were pretty damn cunning. looks at the hidden Spirit leather and the hidden sword.) compared to the rest of the server, the amount of permanent damage c!Dream does is quite minimal (he killed c!Tommy's horse at one point, but I'm struggling to come up with anything else--meanwhile. gestures at the pet wars jesus fucking christ people what is wrong with you guys) and the amount of leverage he actually gains over anyone after the independence war on a more permanent basis is...like. none? like literally nothing. spirit speech happens bc he doesn't have leverage. the entirety of everything leading up to him getting the disc in green festival is his quest to get the discs as leverage again in order to pull off the disc finale like. that was the point.

like honestly so much of this time period involves c!dream getting hella blackmailed and scammed in conflicts that he just did not instigate in the slightest ??? and yeah he'd fight you if you stole his shit, he'd hold your pets hostage if you held his pets hostage, but his goal was always a negotiation and compromise? even after he knew c!tommy scammed him with a fake spirit (in the same whole Incident that ends up getting c!Tommy Mellohi, both a real and fake) he doesn't go after c!Tommy's pets when c!Tommy is worried about that and the two of them are pretty peaceful for awhile there. like. ?????

#c!dream isn't the person that he ends up being overnight like my god

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spicyicetea · 11 months

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I decided to draw my Y/N with Skyward Sword Link, like I detailed in my last post.

And I did also promise a oneshot so heh enjoy. I know @rainstops will enjoy this, dirty simp >:)

I can't let you leave

Skyward Sword!Link x Spirit!reader

Warnings: swearing•blood•smut•various kinks/breeding/virginity loss/etc that I've forgotten.

The Master Sword glowed with a lustre as the small Hylian woman landed on the ground beside the tall blonde. Zelda had hugged him right before running off to find her father. The S/C woman smiled at the sight, inspecting the blade on the man's back. He turned to her and she broke from her trance to look up at him.

“So, our journey together is over.”

“What?” the man’s eyes widened as the woman nodded.

“Master, there will be many reincarnations of you in the future. You must seal me back in the Master Sword so I may rest until I can aid them.”

“No,” he furrowed his brows while grabbing her wrist.

She frowned, understanding he must have been hesitant to say goodbye to such a powerful weapon. He pulled her behind him away from prying eyes as he grits his teeth. He wasn't saying goodbye to her yet, he couldn't. Due to having to save the world and that Zelda girl who likes him, he hardly enjoyed his time with his beloved. Of course, she was unaware of his devotion to her, but she would soon be aware.

Oh, how the gods must frown upon him now, betraying the love they had chosen for him for some common girl. He worshipped the ground she walked far more often than he ever cared for the fate of those around him. When she would get distracted by the world around her, she would never see him threatening people to get her anything she expressed interest in.

“Link! Look, this looks like your tunic! It's cute and... So expensive, Link we need to save your rupees for potions and bombs!” Y/N yelled, laughing awkwardly after noticing the high price.

Link can remember handing her his pouch of rupees and telling her to grab some potions for him while he held a blade to the shop owner's neck to get what she wanted. He can remember her excited face once she realized he had gotten it, clearly unaware of the blood he had to wipe from his sword mere moments before handing the dark blue tunic over. She twirled once putting it on, loving how she now looked like him, just without the green and the strange hat.

She was always his, she just hadn't realised it yet. The way he gave her that spare belt so he could watch her tunic cling to her curves as she patched him up after fights. How she would cook him food, worrying about him missing home and losing motivation, although watching her kneel over a fire roasting mushrooms while humming was all the motivation he needed. That adorable smile and little wiggles on his lap as she falls asleep in his arms, trying his hardest to control the throbbing in his pants as she mumbled in her sleep. They were basically already married, he watched her sleep and helped get the dried dirt off of her when she bathed, he was the only one who noticed how she adored helping the kids that ran up to her, thinking she was a goddess. At least those kids knew how the world should view her.

They were already together and she just hadn't realised. All she needed was a little hint. A nudge in the right direction.

The two slowed as Link looked to see no one was near. The shadows hid them perfectly between the two houses, neither of which occupied. Celebration was thriving in the town square as Zelda returned, leaving Link with the privacy he desired. Y/N raised a brow while looking up at him.

“Master, I understand that we've become friends during our journey, but you have your friend back now. I must be sealed back away, and this isn't near the resting site of the Master Sword...” She frowned, clearly also sad regarding the way everything had to turn out.

“No, you don't understand!” Link yelled, tugging his hat off and letting his blonde hair loose.

Y/N pouted and instinctively reached forward to play with his hair. Whenever he was stressed after a battle she would always play with his hair. He’d rest his face against her chest, or even just smother himself in her cleavage while she braided his hair. He bit his lip as her fingers ran through his hair. She tried to pull him into a hug like she always does but he just furrowed his brows and rested his forehead against hers, resisting her embrace.

“Link? Are you alright?” Y/N asks.

His hands flew to her hips as he pushed her against a wall. She squeaked in pain at the movement, looking up at him with a sort of concern. He looked down at her with an expression she had never seen before. His eyes dilated and focused on her. Lips parted as he panted.

“Link?”

One of his hands flew to grab her cheeks, tilting her head up to look at him properly as leant closer. Her eyes widened as she pressed herself against the wall to give him space, his knee forcing her legs apart to rest on the wall between her thighs.

“Why don't you understand?” he sighed.

“Understand? Oh, Link did I offend you at any point? Am I misreading your relationship with that Zelda? I just didn't want to assume that you two were romantic so I just said friends. I'm sorry-”

“No, not another word about that Zelda! Ugh.” he groaned. “You, why can't you just...”

“Just what? What's wrong?”

“Why can't you understand? I want you!”

“Want me? Like the Sword? I'm not actually the sword Link...” she chuckled before Link yanked her hair back gently and smashed his lips against hers.

She jumped slightly as his hand slid down to the hem of her tunic before sliding back up her thigh. He knew if he continued he'd lose control but it was so addicting. The way her soft thighs squished in his hand, and the delicate whimpers they earned pulled him further. It didn't take long until he pulled her hips closer to relax on his clothed knee, bouncing it lightly. She let out a gasp-like moan as his thigh bumped against her clit while his knee nestled against her delicate flower between her thighs.

He smirked watching her quickly flush red and become flustered as she moaned quietly. One of the many things he loved about her was her purity, innocence... lack of panties due to them being stuffed in his pocket the second day they were travelling together. He continued rubbing his knee over her slit as her eyes watered up and she grabbed at his tunic.

“Y/N, hey hey it's okay-”

“Link! Please, it feels so strange! Ah, please.” she moaned.

Link grinned and bit his lip, fumbling with his belt as she began bucking on his thigh. Her slick dribbled through his trousers as she continued to hump his leg like a hungry animal. He grinned watching her squirm, if only he had done this sooner. Her lips met his as she pulled him back into a kiss and he tugged his trousers down. His hands lifted her by her thighs and slammed her against the wall, biting her lower lip.

“Mph, Link. I feel so fuzzy... Please fix it.” She moaned, holding his shoulders to stay stable.

He gulped hearing her moans, feeling himself lose control. Y/N let out a whimper as he pulled her back into the kiss. She ran a hand into his messy hair as he pulled his pants down far enough for his cock to spring out of his boxers. Y/N sighed as she pulled out of the kiss, panting. Link chased her lips, kissing the tip of her nose while rubbing his thumbs in circles over her thighs. He hiked one of her legs up and over his shoulder, he back being pressed against the wall. Link licked his lips as he used his fingers to spread open her folds. She whimpered, not used to the foreign sensation.

“Ah! Link, what are you doing?”

“Shh, don't worry darling, I'm fixing the weird feeling, just like you asked me to.”

Y/N just whimpered as his tip pressed against her, Link fighting the urge to buck into her. He bit his lip as he pushed the head in and she let out a high moan. Her nails dug into her leg as she tries to not scratch him. Link just rubbed her hip, pressing kisses to her thigh as she struggled to take him.

“It's okay dear, just relax,” he cooed.

“Mph, it hurts,” she whined.

“God, I love you Y/N. Please don't leave me,” Link moaned and thrust the rest of the way in as Y/N moaned loudly.

Her whining only got louder as her walls stretched to fit him. Small tears rolled down her cheeks as his hips met her body and he stilled to let her adjust to him. Link moaned he began thrusting, his cock dragging against her walls. Her panting became louder as slick smeared over her thighs. As her moans became louder she threw her arms around his neck, biting her lip and trying to muffle her moans. Link grumbled angrily making his rutting harsher and she cried out.

“Dont muffle those sweet little noises! You're my goddess! Scream for me darling!” He moaned, biting her neck and speeding up his thrusts.

Her moans grew louder a small amounts of blood dribbled from the bite marks on her shoulder. The fear of her leaving him had still settled in his stomach, his desperation causing his thrusts to become hurried and aggressive.

“Mph! Link!”

“I'm not leaving you! I'm not letting you leave,” he growled. “I'm going to fill you up darling. Once you're nice and stuffed with my young you'll have to stay.”

Y/N threw her head back in pleasure, unsure where this sudden idea came from. He bit her neck repeatedly as her moans grew louder and she felt something inside her snap. She dug her nails into his shoulder as her cum smeared between the two sweaty bodies. He groaned feeling her gush and sank her teeth into her shoulder. Thick strings of his cum filled her tight hole, forming a creamy white ring around where their bodies met. The cum dribbled down from her hole. They wanted in unison as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Link... that... I still have to-”

“No, I'm not letting you leave me! You're mine, all mine.”

“Link.”

“NO! I don't care how much cum I need to pump you full of! You're my wife now, you don't get to just leave me cause that Zelda is safe.”

“LINK!” Y/N yells, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. “I don't want to leave you either.”

OKAY, IM DONE, this is my first ever time writing smut and it was kinda difficult- as I said earlier, you freaks better enjoy this. @rainstops I know you're a Link simp so enjoy lol.

#legend of zelda x reader #yandere x reader #x reader #link x reader #legend of zelda fanfiction #legend of zelda fanart #legend of zelda skyward sword #legend of zelda

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hederasgarden · 2 years

Text

Sins of the Father - Part 1

Summary: When the Greens win the Dance of the Dragons, your father must answer for his support of Rhaenyra.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lady!Reader(house unspecified)

W/C: 1.5K

Rating: Mature, 18+ only. AU, forced/arranged marriage and reference to canon level violence. Future chapters will be explicit.

A/N: Thank you fieldandfountain, @truesblue and @whatblogisthis216 for all your help with the first part of this fic. The fantastically talented @writercole created the beautiful graphic!

Likes are lovely but comments and reblogs make my day!

You trail behind your father into the nearly empty Great Hall, flinching when the heavy doors close behind you. King Aegon the second is nowhere to be seen. In his place the Queen Mother sits on the throne, flanked by the Hand of the King and who you assume must be her youngest son, Prince Aemond. Even though he looks half bored he still makes for an intimidating figure, dressed all in black with an eye patch that only partially hides the angry scar that bisects his right eye. You swallow hard, recalling all the nasty rumors you’ve heard about him. Kinslayer was the kindest one you could recall.

A handful of Kingsgaurd members stand at the bottom of the throne and two more follow behind you and your father. You search the room for any familiar figures or other nobles but find none. There are no friendly faces here. When you spot the King's Justice half-hidden behind a pillar, you stumble. Fear lances through your chest, hot and tight, as you consider what his presence means.

“All will be well,” your father promises quietly, offering you his hand.

You grip it tightly and stare straight ahead. The stories your grandmother told you as a girl about her visits to Kings Landing pale in comparison to what you see before you. The iron throne looms large and imposing, the chaotic array of swords terrifying. You have to crane your neck to look at the high ceiling, eyes catching on the beautiful stained glass. Were this any other time you would have been thrilled at the chance to see the capital. Now you feel only dread.

There is no question why the two of you are here today. Your father and brother threw their support behind Rhaenyra in the war and now it was time to face that choice. To beg for mercy like the other lords summoned before your father. The heads of those unsuccessful in their plea were impaled on the spikes that lined the castle’s inner walls. You prayed to the seven that your father would not join them.

“Your Grace,” your father greets, bending deeply at the waist. You follow suit, dropping into a low curtsey and waiting until she bids you rise. “We were expecting to see the King today.”

“My son is busy,” Alicent tells you with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I am here to speak on his behalf.”

“We were summoned by the King,” your father says, a deep frown on his face. “And have traveled far to speak with him.”

“You also pledged your allegiance to the usurper,” the Hand reminds your father.

“The King is merciful though,” Alicent is quick to add, a bland sort of smile on her face. “He understands your family’s ties with House Targaryen go back to before the doom and that your mother was a childhood friend to Aemma. It is understandable you might have been easily led astray.”

Your father remains silent, waiting for Alicent to continue. He told you on the long journey here that he suspected the crown wanted money. There were rumors the war nearly bankrupted the royal coffers. It was a costly war, paid in both blood and gold. Your father is one of the wealthiest lords in Westeros, second only to the Lannisters. It was a logical conclusion and you hoped he was right.

“King Aegon would like to offer you the opportunity to show us you understand the error of your ways and to reaffirm your commitment to his rule.”

“What does his grace have in mind?” Your father asks.

“Marriage between your daughter and Prince Aemond.”

Your lips part in a silent show of surprise but your father’s reaction is more pronounced. His brows draw together and he cuts a quick look at Aemond who stands tall and disinterested beside his mother.

"You cannot possibly expect me to give up my only remaining heir," your father begins, voice incredulous.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the King's Hand jut his chin out and one of the Kingsguard steps forward, hand on the pommel of his greatsword. You glance up at Alicent. She blinks, her face pinched in a sour expression. You think about the heads on Traitor’s Gate and step forward before you’re even cognizant of your own actions.

"Please your grace, you must excuse my father," you begin, resting a hand on his arm. "He grieves still for my brother, his only son, and heir. He fears he will lose me today too, but I can see that is not the case. Prince Aemond is a virtuous man and would treat me well. We are honored you deem us worthy of such a betrothal."

Your father turns to you and stares, surprised. His eyes, the same color as your late brother's, are full of anger. You know he wants to fight this, but you have your mother and sisters back home to think about. Silently, you beg him to understand, to acquiesce. After a long moment, he seems to, clenching his jaw tightly. The fear you see in his expression is a mirror of what you feel in your heart.

"We would be happy to show our loyalty to the crown," your father says finally, clearly unhappy. A second later he lays his hand over yours.

"The King will be pleased to hear this," Alicent replies.

"Of course, there is the matter of a dowry," the Hand says, speaking up finally. "It would need to be fit for a Prince."

You look pleadingly to your father when his hand tightens over yours, a muscle in his cheek jumping. He came ready to part with his coin, not with you. You should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. The crown needs to ensure your father’s loyalty. He is a powerful man and his influence ran deep. With you in King’s Landing, they could be assured of his cooperation. Any children you bore Aemond would inherit your father’s lands and titles after he passed, guaranteeing your house remained bound to the realm.

“The Prince needs only to name his price,” you say when it is clear your father is too angry to speak. When you look at Aemond, you’re startled to find his eye focused solely on you. His expression is blank, making it impossible to determine what he might be thinking.

“How kind to offer me a say,” he says with a smirk.

You drop his intense gaze, inclining your head forward in a show of respect to hide your fear.

“We are but returning the kindness your family has shown us,” you assure him, not daring to raise your eyes from the ground.

“Then the matter is settled,” the Hand says.

“It is,” your father agrees, voice strained.

The situation you’ve found yourself in is a dangerous one and you know the fate of your father and your house rests on your shoulders now. It’s a heavy burden and he looks at you with such a pained expression you feel your throat close up around any words of comfort you might offer. Instead, you squeeze his arm and try to impart whatever reassurance you can. He nods in return, exhaling sharply. Under his fear and worry, you think you see a glimmer of pride.

“The wedding should take place soon,” Alicent says, drawing your attention away from your father as she descends the throne. There’s an unexpected smile on her face when she beckons Aemon to her side.

“As your grace wishes,” you accede.

“In two months' time, all the lords of the kingdom will come to reswear their allegiance to King Aegon. It can happen then. That will allow us to prepare a wedding fit for the King’s brother.”

“That will give me the time needed for the dowry,” your father adds. “We will return in one month's time to make preparations.”

“You misunderstand, my lord,” the Hand begins, “your daughter will remain in King’s Landing. To ensure your continued loyalty.”

“It will give her time to know her betrothed,” Alicent adds with a smile, drawing closer. She places a light hand on your shoulder and looks at your father. “She will be well cared for until you return.”

“A dragon protects what is his,” Aemond says, a flash of movement drawing your eye to the hand that rests on the dagger in his belt.

“Your skills with the blade are legendary, your grace. It warms my father’s heart to know I will be kept so safe.”

“I am sure it warms something.” Aemond stares at your father now, chin lifted in challenge.

Alicent flashes her son a look but Aemond only chuckles, turning on his heel before your father can respond.

♡

My inbox is open for your thoughts and feelings on Aemond! I’m open to requests but cannot guarantee they’ll be fulfilled.

Also, I no longer have a tag list, please follow @hg-library and turn on notifications.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic

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copepods · 1 year

Photo

comm for @hamletteprinceofdenmark of @upstreamgirl1998, @wilburgersoot, and @casino-duckling :3

[id: a drawing of sally, c!wilbur, and c!quackity. sally is a woman with fish-like green and white scales and long red hair, with large clawed hands and finned ears. she’s holding a long, thin sword in one hand, and leaning in to kiss wilbur, her eyes closed. wilbur is leaning in towards sally with a conflicted expression. sally’s sword is poking a hole through wilbur’s yellow sweater, and blood is dripping out. leaning against wilbur’s left shoulder is quackity, holding the end of the sword with one hand. his eyes are closed and he looks sullen. the background is bright yellow. end id]

#mcyt #art #dsmp #anonverse #wilbur soot #quackity #sally the salmon #fish makes art #dsmpshipping

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mrskokushibo · 11 months

Text

From Desire

I NSFW I 18+ I MDNI I

A/N: This story is inspired by an Ask from the lovely @cursetopia ❤️ as well as my rp with Kokushibo involving an o/c I created. It is very au-ish and not my usual style. But let's see what you guys think. Next week I will be back with a "proper" smut: the requested Kokushibo x nun!reader- it will be dirrrrty 😁😁🔥

Synopsis: Kokushibo has an affair and it results in his mistress getting pregnant.

Warnings: SMUT. Oral. Vaginal penetration. Kokushibo x o/c.

Word count: 3832

Masterlist

She was sitting peacefully with her eyes closed listening to the sounds of swords clashing coming from the courtyard. To her, it was the closest thing to music, being a seasoned warrior and a swordsman herself she could distinguish each different strike and parry by only listening to how the metal resonated upon contact. The force, the angle of attack, and the type of blow gave out a unique tone, not dissimilar to singing or an instrument, that created a unique musical score. This always triggered her senses to pick up a katana and join in the lethal dance.

She loved nothing more than to practice her sword techniques, but it brought her almost as much joy knowing, that her beloved child was learning from the same man that once taught her. A few deep breaths and she was done with her meditation. She stood up and straightened her exquisite kimono, it was black and adorned with red and purple dragonflies. The obi was golden with one single red dragonfly on one side. Slowly and quietly, she walked up toward the open shoji door and without getting noticed, leaned on the frame with her arms crossed, observing the two warriors training in the courtyard. The dimmed light from the lanterns illuminating the enclosed space was causing orange flashes to reflect on the metal of the blades, giving the sparring a resemblance to lightning flashes crashing at immense speeds.

They were magnificent to watch. The two Upper Moons, Kokushibo and her son, Hayate. Their technique was flawless, it was almost like a dance with both opponents striking and parrying with pre-calculated precision. They were such impressive men too, her son’s resemblance to Upper Moon One was striking: he had the same tall and massive build, and he also shared a similarly handsome face with six eyes, though these eyes were pale jade green, just like hers. He had long, thick unruly black hair with purple streaks, that he tied up in a half ponytail, with most of the glorious locks hanging down freely and cascading like a cape down his back.

But he was also so different from his father: where Kokushibo was stoic and reserved, with very few words to ever say to anyone, Hayate was playful and chatty and he was never far away from firing the most charming of smiles. His personality was mischief personified and he was so alike her in character that it often made her shake her head at his adventures. His popularity with the female demons was immense, but luckily the young man was also just as ambitious and focused as his father, so these types of adventures were relatively under control. Although, she did hear rumours about a few hearts getting broken thanks to Hayate. She knew all too well how that felt and secretly sympathised with the females. But she did not have much influence over his romantic choices, just as she did not have any control over his father’s …. If only things were different… she sighed, but quickly rejected the thought.

The two males stopped practicing and the younger threw his head back in laughter:

‘You are getting slow, father. A few more years and we will be swapping places’

His eyes sparkled as he sheathed his katana sticking it under the obi of his sober black outfit.

Kokushibo’s reaction was as expected, a shake of the head and a sigh

‘Son, you do not wish to change the hierarchy. It will cause uproar.’

His limited sense of humour was funny on its own and caused Hayate to often tease him almost to a breaking point. Throughout the years she always admired Kokushibo’s patience with the head-strong and energetic boy. She only wished that these moments together were more frequent, but this would not have been possible.

At the time that Hayate was conceived, Kokushibo already had a fiancée, a stunning Upper Moon demon, so her own existence had to quickly be hidden away. With the exception of Muzan, who needed to know everything that was happening at the Infinity Castle, and surprisingly Douma, who was more supportive of her than of the prudish Kokushibo in that specific instance. Her affair with Upper Moon One caused enough of a scandal and the presence of his pregnant mistress would simply be damaging to his reputation. So, together with Muzan, Kokushibo organised for her to stay in a lavish mansion within the confines of the Infinity Castle, but hidden away well enough that not even Nakime knew of its existence. Well, especially not Nakime…

She never lacked anything and her life raising Hayate was one filled with joy. Her sociable nature allowed her to gain a tight-knit circle of friends, and…she became close with Douma. A very physical relationship that never seemed to drain out of fuel for the carnal passion they shared. As for Kokushibo…well, they still shared their moments… but overall, the friendship they shared was the foundation of their interactions and a prerequisite to being able to raise Hayate without conflicts.

Her train of thought was interrupted by Kokushibo.

‘I must go now. Muzan summoned me on a mission again. By the way, our son is progressing well. This makes me glad’

Hayate butted in on the conversation: ‘Progressing well? But Father, I am beyond that, I nearly beat you.’ He laughed again and winked at her.

‘Only because I let you’

Kokushibo replied, but now with a little smirk in the corner of his mouth. He gave his son a pat on the back. There was so much love in their interaction and she could not have been more grateful for that. Fathers and sons not always got along, Kokushibo experienced that on his own skin, and maybe that was part of the reason he was such a great parent to Hayate.

He turned to her again:

‘Are you going to be …. alone tonight?’

It always amused her, how from the very beginning of their interactions, he was so concerned over her romantic interests. Odd for someone claiming to have no real interest in her…

‘You know I won’t be.’

She smiled gently and blushed at the thought of what she and her lover had in store for tonight. Especially, since Hayate was out of the mansion pursuing his own desires with some new female.

Upon his leave, she gave Kokushibo a hug and he reciprocated, squeezing her small body in friendly affection.

‘Please, stay safe’ she whispered to him.

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

18 years earlier

It was a lazy week, with all missions called off and Infinity Castle more quiet than usual. Kokushibo was resting in his large mansion awaiting a visit from a female lower-rank demon. It was unusual for him to have visitors other than his fiancée, but he made an exception for this one. The female demon requested the visit with endorsement from Muzan-sama himself, which sparked Kokushibo’s interest.

‘Master, she is here’ a servant appeared bowing to him.

Without a word and with a subtle hand gesture Kokushibo indicated that she could be let in. The servant moved to the side to let the female in and left quietly sliding the door behind him. He observed the female in silence as she slowly moved to the middle of the room and bowed politely, accompanied only by the gentle shuffle of silk upon silk. She was dressed in an expensive black kimono with red, gold, and purple details, that was hugging her hourglass figure. Her hair was long, shiny, and dark purple. And when she finally lifted her gaze to him, he was met with a pair of large, sparkling pale jade green eyes. But what caught his attention was that she had a katana at her side.

‘What is your name, demon?’ He decided to break the silence.

‘Akatsuki, my Lord.’

‘Hmm, tell me, Akatsuki. What brings you here?’

She was becoming a little wary, his deep voice and presence intimidating her more than she expected. She steadied herself and responded.

‘I am here by Lord Muzan’s recommendation. I would like to respectfully ask you to train me.’

Kokushibo was taken aback by her directness. Train her? Why would he do something like that? He looked her up and down and tilted his head back pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes.

‘That is a very bold request. Who are you to ask such a thing of me?’

Akatsuki’s heart sank for a moment. But then she remembered Lord Muzan’s instructions: *tell your story in a compelling manner and you will see that he is not as scary as he comes across*

She straightened her back and started talking.

‘Very well, my Lord. Would you care to hear my story if that is what is required for you to make up your mind?’

‘Yes, go ahead.’ He had time and did not mind a good story, as long as it was not him doing the talking.

‘Well, Master. I come from a faraway place called Europa. I lived in a time before you even were born. I always enjoyed books and learning how things worked, I gained knowledge in how to treat wounds and deliver children, and soon enough I was busy helping the local people with their health problems. Unfortunately, I also attracted the attention of men, and when that attention was given by the wrong one, upon rejection, his hurt pride made him report me to the Church for practicing witchcraft. When the inquisitors tormented me, I no longer prayed to God for mercy, because what evil deity would allow for such misdoing? No, I prayed that demons would avenge me, if hell was where they thought I belonged that it might just as well be hell that saves me.’

‘ And so, on the night preceding my execution, a demon approached me in my dark cell and offered me a transformation. And I accepted. I never once regretted my decision as my life has been an adventure, I never thought possible. I traveled the continent as I pleased, learned magic from the WItchers of Eastern Europe, and entertained powerful men in the courts of the West and in the Harems of the exotic Middle East. Eventually, the people over there learned how to kill demons and my life was in danger once again. But as it seems to be my fate I got lucky once more, in the Harem of the Sultan of Turkey I met a courtesan, a stunning oriental beauty and she told me tales of the new powerful Demon King, Muzan, that was gaining power in Japan.’

‘For me, the decision was an easy one. I arrived in Japan in the late Sengoku era. I was quickly introduced to lord Muzan who was curious about a demon not originating from his own blood. This was also the reason I could never rise in the ranks as my powers were so different from the local demons. Nevertheless, I gained his trust and since then I have served him well. You know, Master, I spotted you on one of my first visits to Lord Muzan, but never dared approach you. It took me decades and a lot of sword training to even dare ask Lord Muzan to put in a word for me with you. Thank you for giving me your time to listen to my story.’

She bowed to him and went silent.

Kokushibo was clearly fascinated by her story. He had his eyes fixated on her all the while she was talking and when she stopped, after a moment of silence, he responded.

‘Very well, then. I will train you if you have the aptitude. Be ready tomorrow. I will summon you.’

‘Thank you, my Lord’ She gave him a deep bow and quietly left the room.

In the weeks and months that followed, their training progressed seamlessly. Her aptitude and skills were more than sufficient and he was amazed that she really was one of the best sword fighters he has ever encountered. Of course, he knew she would never reach his level as he was the best there was, but the effort and steady progress were leaving him very satisfied. To her surprise and relief, he was a very patient and fair sensei. Never losing his temper or trying deliberately to harm her.

Their relationship slowly evolved into friendship, she even noticed he was beginning to understand her sense of humour. As for him, he really enjoyed how lively she was, he was never bored around her and it was almost as if she had the ability to bring out the child in him. Everything seemed perfect until that fateful night. As friendly as their interactions were, she was a very hotblooded female, and being around him did not leave her unmoved...

She was extremely attracted to him sexually. He was impressive and her senses were sometimes playing tricks on her, beyond what she could have any control over. Her thoughts wandered to dirty places and she was undressing him in her mind, imagining him doing things to her. She tried to never think like this with him present, but afterward, she was forced to touch herself. She was always worried whether he could sense her feelings, him having constant and uninterrupted access to the transparent world…

On that night, she was interrupted in her sleep by someone barging into her chamber. It was Kokushibo, standing there at the foot of her futon with his katana drawn, ready to attack. She sprang out of bed, wearing essentially nothing more than her breast binding and a minuscule fundoshi. She quickly grabbed her katana from underneath her bed and positioned herself in a defensive stance.

‘What are you doing here, my Lord?’

‘A warrior should always be prepared. See this as a surprise training.’

Without giving her a chance to get dressed, he attacked. She quickly parried and rolled away, but he kept on going. A thought struck her and she smiled, *how about this, Master. I’m not decent, so neither should you be* With a quick and light strike of her katana, she slashed through both his obi and the belts holding up his hakama, making all his clothes drop to the floor. He was furious.

‘You will pay for this.’

His attack was powerful, and when she attempted to block, his sheer weight made her fall backward resulting in them both tumbling down onto the futon. He was now on top of her with his sword pressing hers down toward her neck. And it was then that she felt it, the familiar bulge pressing on her thigh. He was getting an erection... She was quickly distracted from any indecent thoughts forming as the pressure from his sword was so hard that her katana suddenly snapped in two, her barely managing to roll out from underneath him, barely escaping having her throat cut.

As she lifted her head up, she saw him shift to the side, he was facing her, about to speak and that is when her thoughts started to drift off in a dangerous direction. She was scanning his magnificent body, his broad shoulders and voluminous chest, the perfect triangle running down to his groin, and … the huge, now fully erect cock. Her instinct took over and she slowly crawled back to him, sitting down next to him, she placed her hand on his chest at the level with his heart and used the other to run through his hair. She looked him straight in the eye and spoke:

‘Master, I know this is wrong to ask of you, but I would like you to take me, here and now. I am yours to do what you please with. I want to serve you, worship you…’

He did not pull away, nor stopped her hands from touching him. He was nearly double her size and shamelessly strong, yet he took no action to halt her.

‘I will do no such thing. I did not choose to unrobe. This was your doing.’

He spoke, keeping up the appearance of defiance. It was as if he wanted her to act, to unburden him from a decision he did not want to make, but at the same time initiate something he so deeply desired to happen.

She could feel his heart beating faster under the palm of her hand, and his chest heaving with strained breathing. With the same hand, she started to trace down his chest and when she reached his groin, she started massaging gently around his cock, without touching it yet. Pearls of precum started to leak out of the tip and she could hear him sigh quietly.

‘Do not do this. I warn you. I am a samurai, my honour does not allow for this. Stop or you will pay.’

But she knew better than to listen to futile threats.

‘Samurai, my Lord, had concubines.’

She did not seize her movement, instead, she snaked her delicate hand on the shaft of his cock, grabbed hold of it, and began to slowly, but firmly pump it up and down, smearing the precum on the entire length. Her hand barely fit around his sizeable manhood, so she leaned down and wrapped her mouth around the leaking tip. She became completely engulfed in the action, mesmerised by his taste and the feel of both the softness of his skin and the hardness of the cock it covered.

‘You need to stop…..doing this.’

His whisper sounded more like a moan now. She pulled away from him, her lips wet and pouting from the sucking action and she gave him the most innocent look with her big green eyes:

‘Master, make me stop then, it is your choice, you could overpower me with ease…but… you are still here.’

She moved closer to his face and placed her hand on his chest again, whispering

‘I know there is a beast sleeping inside you, I want to see it awaken. Ravage me, Master. Show me how powerful you truly are.’

There was complete silence after this. Him gazing at her with narrowed eyes.

A second later he flipped her on her back and pushed her down into the mattress with nearly his full body weight. He hissed in her ear:

‘I am furious, that you drove me to do this.’

And with that, he shoved the entire length of his huge cock into her, without any consideration for whether she was ready or not. And was she ever more ready… her arousal has been driving her crazy throughout their entire verbal exchange, making her pussy sopping wet and aching from clenching on nothing. So, him filling every last inch of her insides like this made her instantly moan in pleasure. He was literally plowing into her. His thrusts hard and deep. Every sensitive spot inside her was now being stimulated, she was tracing her hands all over his strong, brawny back and through his thick mane.

She was about to burst, edging for what felt like an eternity, and when her orgasm finally came, she was about to scream uncontrollably. He was quick to put his large hand on her mouth to muffle the scream. Her body was still arching in the after-spams of her pleasure, her bucking her hips into him, when he slowly stopped and removed his hand from over her mouth. She pulled his head down into a kiss and he reciprocated, their tongues exploring their mouths hungrily, tasting, devouring each other.

He pulled his head back and placed her in a mating press, his large hands pressing her thighs tight down toward her torso. He resumed thrusting his hips into her at an ungodly pace, the tip of his cock kissing the entrance to her cervix. She could tell he was slowly losing control, dissolving into his pleasure. All of a sudden, he leaned over her, put his face on the side of her neck, and sank his fangs into her soft skin, drawing just a little bit of blood. She moaned loudly as this elicited indescribable pleasure.

He cupped one of her breasts and started squeezing it while playing with her nipple. Each squeeze made her back arch in overstimulation. His thrusts were getting faster and the room was filled with her moaning and the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin. His thrusts became sloppy, deeper, and needier, with the tip of his cock now entering her cervix. At last, he lost all control and came with a growl, pumping her full of his fertile cum.

He stayed inside her for a while, collapsed lying on top of her, in complete silence with only their hearts beating in sync. Eventually, he moved off her, pressed his head to hers, and placed his huge arm on top of her until they both drifted off to sleep.

---

During the following weeks, the shame of what happened between them kept them apart. Both of them too proud to give each other the satisfaction of showing remorse. However, Akatsuki was starting to feel … strange. Her heat never came since they fucked and she started feeling nauseous in the mornings. She realised that she was pregnant. She gathered her courage and approached him.

‘Good evening, my Lord’

She was pale, her hands were shaking and she had to hide the tears steadily pooling in her eyes.

‘I need to tell you something. I am afraid that our little…encounter, had consequences, more precisely one consequence. You are going to be a father.’

She was prepared for the potential punishment. Him driving her away or worse: killing her. But his reaction stunned her more than anything of the above. Without a word he walked up to her and grabbed her shaking hands, steadying them. His breathing was heavy and his speech almost stammering.

‘I will love this child with all my heart. We will need to make arrangements so you receive all the help you need with raising it. I believe it will have great powers. As for us, due to my status, I am not in a position to offer you my love, but my friendship is something you will never lose. There is nothing you can do to lose it. Do you understand?’

And with that, he hugged her and held her like this for a long time.

‘I will have a new katana made for you, you will need one to keep your practice up as I want someone to train my son the times I am not available to do so’

His words put a big smile on her face.

And thus, arrangements were made, she was looked after during her pregnancy and when the male child finally arrived in this world, she named him Hayate, the name synonymous with a suddenly approaching hurricane, as that is how he entered her world from the very moment of the stormy night of his conception.

A child born from desire and into love.

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Banner by @cafekitsune

Artwork downloaded from Wallpapers.com

Huge thanks to my friend @kokusfluffyhair for inspiration and for her amazing rp blog @koku-shibou 🙏❤️❤️😘. My o/c has so much fun with your muse 😊😍💕

Tagging my lovelies ❤️: @tired-writer04 @koyuki-the-flower @akaza-dono-the-basketball @doumadono @paintoreos @fuckkyourlife @abandonedhhearts @cursetopia

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