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#what fascinating news no one could have predicted
orcusfang · 2 days
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Whence the Sorrow Flow [Part One]
Pet!AU Aizetsu x pregnant Fem!Reader
'As the owner of a well known demon grooming salon, business has flourished the years following its opening. All kinds of demon pets are brought to you day in, day out. And with a partnership with the local rescue, one would think you’ve secured a comfortable living in this bustling city. However, nothing could be further from the truth, and wherever you go an unwanted shadow that isn’t your own is intent on haunting your every step. You try to go on with your life, but after months of enduring this hell you’re mentally in the gutter. When a longtime friend from the local rescue brings in a timid and anxious demon for a makeover, he once again tries to convince you to adopt a demon of your own. Usually you shrug off the suggestion, never giving it much thought. But now that the question whether or not you still considered yourself safe can’t be answered with certainty anymore, you consider the possibility. And he just happens to know the perfect demon for your situation…'
--------- A/N: So, I started this back in August last year and never really wrote this with the intention to post it? Most of it was inspired by a RP I had with a friend at the time, but I shared two previews on Twitter over the past months and people really seemed to like it and have been asking about it ever since. So… I’m posting it! Warnings: This story contains darker themes, domestication, heavier topics, pregnancy, stalking, master/pet relationship. And for later chapters: mating cycles/heat, dubious consent at times and eventual explicit sexual content. A reminder, this story is written with an adult audience in mind. So even though not all chapters have sensitive matters in them; no minors, please! Read at your own risk! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know if you liked it :] Word Count: 9732
As the owner of a demon grooming salon in the center of a bustling city, you had seen just about any demon you could’ve dared to imagine. After almost four years of being in this profession, you didn’t think you could still lay an eye on a demon and genuinely find yourself surprised and impressed. From the most pampered and arrogant demons that actually considered themselves above you; to the most shy and anxious of demons – you’d seen it all as far as you were concerned.
It was fascinating how a demon's place and status in the world depended on their owners. And yet, it was utterly unfair to those born in unfortunate circumstances.
However, every once in a while the lovely folks over at the local demon rescue were eager to drop by a demon that would forever expand your experience, and it just so happened that today was rescue demon grooming day.
It wasn’t an official day of any sorts, but whenever one of the workers there reached out to you for an appointment for one of their demons, you made certain to not take on any other clients that same day. There had been a time when you did, but… you’d learned the hard way to not book anyone else.
Because the demons that got rescued by them? They were often in very bad and questionable shape, and there was simply no predicting what you would see with a new appointment with the rescue group. No matter how many times they had visited for a makeover on a demon they deemed suitable for adoption, every single time they stepped through the salon’s door with the demon in tow, and you witnessed the state they were in – something deep within your heart withered just a little more.
So when your contact at the rescue, Takagi, called to book an emergency case, you knew you were in for a long and tough day. It wouldn’t be the first time a rescue took hours before they even looked somewhat presentable. Not counting the time it took for the demon to grow comfortable enough to let you work on them, and a strange gut feeling told you that this rescue might just be one of those cases.
That, or it was the other situation in your belly making you feel iffy.
Despite being five months in, you still had a hard time separating the two.
“Makes me wonder for how much longer I’ll be able to properly do this work.” You mused to no one in particular, only to fill the tense silence before the rescue’s arrival as you arranged all the proper tools you could possibly need. You hoped you could continue to work for a while longer, you were a one-person income after all. And rent didn’t discriminate, pregnant or not.
There were plenty of savings that would keep you going for a while, but the less you had to depend on that, the better. Especially now that your life was going to change drastically in about four months from now, and you needed to be prepared for any unexpected events. There was no saying there wouldn’t be complications, either.
Once all the brushes, scissors and shearing devices were put in place and all shampoo and soap bottles were refilled, you made a small pile of thick towels along with a happy hoodie that was certain to lessen the stress for today’s demon. All the while, you couldn’t help but wonder what demon would walk through the front door of the shop today.
Rescues were often a miserable sight, but you’d be lying if they weren’t a great way to learn and improve your methods. In fact, it was thanks to the collaborative events between you and the local rescue that you’d gotten such a reputable name to begin with.
That, and you were helping the demons as well. Aside from the obvious cleaning, you were also giving them an instance where a human didn’t touch or handle them with a violent touch. Considering most rescues came from abusive or neglected houses, hopefully that small experience would aid them in their first step to trust humans once again. Or for the first time.
Humming, you entered the space where you always bathed, rinsed and showered your demons, placing the bottles of soap and shampoo at a higher ledge to keep them from being launched across your shop thanks to trashing demons that hated to be wet and washed. It wouldn’t be the first time your workshop got coated in bubbles and had you and the demon slipping in all directions.
The demons would be fine. A little spooked, but fine. They were tied to the elastic leash on the wall so they wouldn’t go far, but you still had a sore spot on the back of your head when you once slipped and hit the wall. And that had been over a year ago.
You peeked at the wall clock while rinsing your hands by the large sink. The numbers showed 10:45, meaning that the appointment would be in about fifteen minutes. That is, if it were a normal client.
If there was something you’d come to learn the past years, it was that Takagi, your contact over at the local rescue loved being way on time. That meant that any moment now he would–
The faint noise of a car pulling up resounded outside your shop, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Ah, way too early. Just as expected.”
The opening of a car door and closing followed in their wake, and footsteps approached as the obscured window revealed two shadowy silhouettes at the front door.
The doorbell jingled reassuringly and you quickly snatched your apron bearing your shop’s logo – a cute illustration of a generic demon sitting in a bubbly bathtub– threw it on and approached the shop entrance.
You had hardly unlocked the door before an eager “Gooood morning, (Name)!” boomed in your face, accompanied with a flashy grin from the tall man. “We’re not late, are we?”
“Absolutely not.” You chuckled, already unable to resist the contagious eagerness of the older man. “Good morning, Takagi. Are you certain you don’t just want to plan the appointment 15 minutes earlier than usual instead?”
“If that suits you better,” He said casually, knowing that you were just messing with him. “but I fear I’ll just end up arriving early either way. That’s just in my nature, you know?”
Takagi was one of the older employees at the local rescue, and your official contact there. Whenever there was a demon that needed to be brought over to your salon, he was always the one responsible for arranging it. Ironically enough, you had known the man for much longer than you had the shop, for he was an old friend of your mother. As such, he was a trusted family friend, even if your only contact were these visits that happened a couple times a month.
And your mother never admitted to the claim… but it was very likely that she had recommended your shop to the man, thus marking the beginning of your good relationship with the local rescue and boosting your reputation in one fortunate move.
Though, because of an injury that happened on the job where a terrified demon had lashed out and caught him by surprise, Takagi had been unfortunately incapacitated for four whole months, and today was actually the first time you both saw each other again in quite a while.
Takagi quickly studied you. “Ah but what am I saying? First and foremost (Name), I believe congratulations are in order!”
He of course, meant the evident bump you lugged around every day, and you nodded with the biggest grin plastered onto your face. No matter how many people congratulated you, it felt just as wonderful as the first. Even if you were starting to run out of interesting responses other than: “Yes, thank you!”
“How far along are you?” He almost seemed as joyous as you, and you knew from experience that he was genuinely happy.
“Five months now,” Your hands rested instinctively on your small bump protruding slightly from underneath your apron. “The baby is healthy and growing well, and I’m heading in for another ultrasound in two weeks.” You heaved a sigh. “I keep thinking I’m used to it, but I can’t help but feel anxious with each visit.”
His dark bushy brows shot up. “Well, of course! It does concern the health of your little one, and as a parent you want nothing more for them to be safe. It’s fine to feel nervous – in fact, I think I’d judge you more if you weren’t.”
You blinked at him, surprised that you hadn’t thought of it that way yourself. Before you could say anything in return, however, his bright and eager gaze took a sharper edge to it. “That said… I heard what happened with your partner. Are you doing ok?”
As much as your pregnancy delighted and made you eager to be a mother – the overwhelming shadow that your former partner, the father, had left behind unfortunately haunted your every step, and you feared this question was coming.
Especially since you’d lived pretty much in a mental haze ever since it happened. If anything the responsibility of the shop kept you going, gave you a daily purpose rather than rotting in your own misfortune and potential horrors.
“It’s… better this way.” Truth was, you really didn’t want to talk about him. To grant him any more attention than his actions already demanded. If you had to convince yourself to believe you and your child would be better off without him even if it was a downright lie, then you would cling onto that lie with all your might until it turned out to be real.
Suddenly feeling very self aware, you shyly lowered your gaze downward, only for it to land on the silhouette kneeling behind the man – the demon he brought along. With Takagi’s chatter and sudden questions, you’d been distracted from the demon’s presence. The fact that it was frozen in place without making the slightest noise certainly helped to remain unnoticed.
The smallest hint of the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen peeked at you between large, thick clumps of dark hair, and for a passing second you found yourself strangely entranced – as if you witnessed a beautiful, fleeting moment.
The moment that defined whether a demon tolerated your presence, based on their first instinctual impressions. An instinct that abused and neglected demons took as reality, often influenced by the events of their past, and one where you had to tread carefully.
But the moment was fleeting, because what your gaze focused on next took your breath away, and you could swear your heart dropped straight through your big pregnant gut, and right into your bloated feet.
All you could see was just a gigantic pile of neglected, overgrown, uncared and matted dark hair. In the way the demon was leaning back on their haunches, kneeling down to the ground, the hair literally covered them from head to toe. Only the slightest glimpse of their face occasionally managed to peek through the clumps of thick filthy hair.
You immediately recognized the first signs of the demon’s neglect. Their hair hadn’t been cut for the longest of time, or in the worst case scenario – ever.
Whoever previously owned them clearly never bothered to brush, take care or send them to a groomer. You felt like you were staring straight at a bunch of bird nests somehow mushed together into one chaotic structure. You could hardly see their actual face, and you cringed visibly as you caught a whiff of the downright putrid smell that reeked off of them.
Adding onto your mental list, you began to doubt whether or not they ever got a bath either. And that was just from what you could see with a quick glance. There was no saying what you would encounter once you got to work on them. God, the poor, poor thing.
You had to get to work.
“But please, come in. And I’ll get you two settled.” You stepped back to allow the man and demon to enter. Suddenly very motivated to start and try to lessen this demon’s predicament rather than dwell on what happened to you in the past.
“Don’t mind if we do! I must mention though, I cannot stay for long.” Catching the hint, no further questions regarding your former partner’s dubious actions were thrown in your way, and Takagi entered the shop with the demon cautiously in tow.
Once inside, the demon immediately retreated behind the man’s legs. The hair covered head moved a bit, and you realized the demon was checking out the new room he found himself in. All the different scents must make him anxious. If he could even smell anything properly with that wall of crusty hair obscuring his senses.
Takagi smiled tenderly down at the demon and then back to you. “Dear (Name), this is one of our newly rescued demons. He’s very shy and anxious, but thus far he’s been nothing but a gentle demon.” He gestured at the creature, and upon feeling both your direct gazes on him, he ducked inward a bit more.
“What’s their name?” You ask quietly, not wanting to spook or intimidate the poor thing any more than it already was in this new, daunting environment.
“His name is Aizetsu…. I think.” He chuckled a tad awkwardly. “This one was rescued along with three others, and one of them felt open enough to share their names to us, and… nothing else. Upon asked, they don’t want to say which name belongs to which demon, so we’re kinda still in the process of figuring out who is who.” He shrugged casually. “But this one responded to Aizetsu, so we assume that’s his name. But we don’t know much about him aside from the fact that he’s male.”
You nodded and peeked back at the demon hiding behind him. “So, what do I need to know about Aizetsu’s behavior before I start preparing him?”
“You probably noticed just by looking at him, but we found him and his three brothers in a severely neglected state.” Takagi began, the former pleasantness draining his features into something more sharp. “We don’t know all the details regarding their former owner, because it’s actually the police that found out about their existence. Supposedly they were there to arrest the owner on some pretty severe charges. None of those charges had anything to do with neglecting demons, unfortunately.”
No, of course they weren’t. As much as you and Takagi tried your hardest to improve demon lives, most of society really only saw them as exotic pets with no rights. Meaning that there were no rules set in place that would punish abusive behavior or other forms of mistreatment, and that people usually weren’t punished for it.
“They investigated the rest of the house, and found these four in separate rooms in the basement in just… awful, awful conditions.”
Your stomach churned, and yet some terrible curiosity needed to know to sympathize. “Meaning…?”
He scrunched his nose and shook his head. “Just the worst neglect someone could imagine. You’re really better off not knowing the details, (Name). Me and the others at the rescue having seen it is more than enough.”
Your gaze went back on the trembling demon; your heart aching in sympathy as well as disgust. You wondered what was going through the demon’s head right now, as the two of you discussed details of his former life.
“So, when they found the neglected demons in dire need of help, and cops being cops, they wanted to put a bullet through their heads. Probably to project the blame onto their owner so they could forge an even bigger record on the man.”
Your hands cupped your mouth in horror. “No! But then, how did they…?”
“Fortunately there was a female officer with them that’s worked with us before, and she ended up having to beg them to allow her to call our local rescue.” Takagi heaved a deep sigh. “Even then, for us to be allowed to go there, we had to reassure them that they would never hear about the demons and their own involvement ever again. Not from others, not from the news. For all we know, these demons were simply dropped on our front porch by some random stranger.”
“Did they seriously threaten you?” One could argue the fact he was telling you of this right now rather than keeping it quiet, but he was a man of honesty, and you were certain he provided you the truth because he really wanted people to understand what the demon went through. He was that committed to helping them.
“It’s all in a day of our work, (Name). Once the cops finished flashing their authority, we went in there to capture them.” He glanced down at the demon behind him. “This guy was the first and easiest to catch. Poor thing was so immobilized by fear that my colleague went into his room and just scooped him right out. The other three though?”
He whistled, and the demon behind him startled at the high-pitched noise. To which he flashed him an apologetic smile. “They gave the crew the workout of their lives. It took us truly five hours before we finally managed to catch and drag out the last one, but it was worth every single moment of it…”
“Aizetsu and his siblings have been with us for a few days now, and we allowed them time to realize and understand that their living quarters have changed, and have been feeding and looking after them gradually to try and get them get used to human contact.”
Your brows raised curiously. “And how’s that been going for you?”
Takagi loosed out a troubled breath. “Let’s say we have varying degrees of progress on the four. Aizetsu here has made the most progress because he tolerates being touched.” Takagi sucked in a breath. “Then again, even though he does, he also shows hardly any response to it, so that’s a bit of a concern. We think he might be too scared to have a reaction, unlike two of his brothers.”
Curiosity got the best of you, and that’s where you made a mistake: “Will they be up for adoption, too?”
You only realized your mistake once Takagi’s eyes suddenly flashed with mischief. “Once they pass every test, they eventually will. I have my concerns about the angriest one, but I won’t stop until he shows even the slightest hint of warming up to someone.” His eyes narrowed cheekily at you, and you knew exactly what he was going to say next.
“Why? Have we finally reached the point in time where you’re thinking about adopting one of your own?”
As was evident with your many past encounters, Takagi never allowed the opportunity to ask slip through his fingers. Back in the day, he was so shocked to find out that despite being someone who was very experienced handling demons, and bearing a similar passion and love for their wellbeing as he did – you didn’t have a demon yourself.
There were a handful of reasons for this, which you’d made very clear to the man whenever he returned to the subject. Your excuses usually ranged from: I’m just too busy to properly take care of one. To the more reasonable: My house is rather small, and I don’t think I can offer them a home they would thrive in.
Seeing right through you, his brow always raised as if to say really? Those reasons wouldn’t have stopped anyone else from adopting one, and a lot of them were far from as qualified as owning one than you did. You knew that if a demon somehow ended up in your care, you would do your utmost best to give him the best life and home the demon could wish for.
Still, you’d been set on your decision for the past years since you started this work. You weren’t entirely sure why you kept making excuses, but somewhere along the line you’d started to believe them.
Maybe it was so you wouldn’t have to think any further about the true reason, which had nothing to do with you in the first place. And now that Takagi was asking you about it once again… you were feeling tempted to spill it to him, knowing there was nothing left to pretend.
But you caught yourself before you could give into the sweet temptation of spite, knowing it added absolutely nothing worthwhile. If anything, it would most likely sour part of your day as well as Takagi’s…
And again, you had to remind yourself that you didn’t want to give the source of said reason any more thought and attention than he already demanded on a daily basis.
“You’ll never cease trying to pair me with one of your rescues, won’t you?” A soft laugh passed your lips, knowing that he really only did because he was convinced it would only add more to your life, and he really wanted that happiness for you. “I hate to disappoint you, but my reasons haven’t changed. In fact, in about four months from now I’ll even have less time to spend on a demon than I do now.”
“So you think!” He countered enthusiastically, jabbing a finger up in the air. “But I’d argue that adopting a more gentle and patient demon into the household is very beneficial with a little one around. Especially now that your partner isn’t around anymore, and combined with your grooming salon a demon could potentially help you to relieve the pressure put on you.”
You shot him a look. “Adopting a demon to take over my chores isn’t really a prime reason why I’d reconsider getting one, Takagi.” The last thing you wanted to do was turn a creature like that into a servant of sorts.
He shook his head, intent on getting his message across. “No no, you’re misunderstanding. Of course they could help in the household, but I’m just saying. It’s tough being a single mother with a newborn and a job that demands a lot of you. There are demons specifically bred and trained to be gentle and, uh, perhaps important for your particular situation – protective of their owners and their children.”
The latter part had you looking up with a snap – so taken back by what he was implying – that you actually glared at the man for a passing heartbeat before catching yourself. But not before you saw the realization settle on your friend’s face.
A sudden chill had taken to your skin and blood, causing your very core to tremble.
Looks like Tagaki knew more of the finer details of your recently changed situation than he initially let on.
You blinked nervously. “Mom told you?”
The man slowly nodded, his features stark.
“How much did she tell you?” You tried, urging the frustration heating your blood to simmer back down. You hated it when your mother decided to share private things when you clearly asked her not to do so, everything was already complicated enough, and the last thing you wanted was others to try and butt into what you should do.
“Enough for me to know you need protection.” He provided, his gaze stern yet concerned.
A growing pressure of panic threatened to squeeze your throat as you scrambled for excuses to cut this topic short. “The police have everything under control, so that won’t be necessary.”
“I’m just saying,” Tagaki said carefully, choosing his words. “A demon could keep you safe from someone like him. From what your mother told me, it appears you’re under a great ordeal of stress, and that’s not good for you nor the little one you’re carrying around.”
Clenching your jaw to keep yourself from snapping at the man, you honestly didn’t know why his concern for your well being felt like such a stab to your back. Not to mention your mother for just blabbering about this so openly to random people. What if word of his actions leaked out and somehow reached him? What would happen then?
Your gaze landed on the clock, where the numbers marked 10:59. It was time to get to work; you had to do what you were meant to do today – your escape.
You took a breath to calm your rising anxiety, turning back to Tagaki. “If… it gets out of hand, I’ll let you know.” It was the most basic answer you could give without outright telling him you would consider adopting a demon, but truly, you had no other idea how to get him to stop discussing this topic. “Alright?”
Because he meant well, he really did. Even if your fight and flight instinct was urging the opposite, and that wasn’t any of his fault.
Tagaki must’ve caught the glimpse within your gaze that you were simply not up for discussing this, and nodded. “I told your mother the same thing, if there’s ever anything you need; you can always contact me. I might not always be able to help with everything, but I’m sure we can find a solution together with the three of us.”
“Thank you,” And you meant it. “But the last thing I want to do right now is stress myself even further by thinking about him unless I have to.”
Tagaki’s eyes hardened just ever so slightly, not satisfied with your answer even though he seemed content to drop the matter for now. “Understandable.”
All the while, the demon just sat behind the man. Quietly and observing the shop he currently found himself in; showing no interest whatsoever in the topic or conversation you found yourselves in.
“How about we get Aizetsu here settled first and foremost? I really want to cut some of that heavy hair of his, as it must be very uncomfortable for him.” You suggested instead, eager to work and have something else to focus on.
Having to look at the severely neglected demon hiding away behind Tagaki made you restless to get to work. The less longer the demon was forced to endure the results of his neglect, the better. This demon clearly needed your help, and soon.
“Ah sorry about that, (Name), and here I said I didn’t have a lot of time to stay and I just go on blabbering like that.” He chuckled sincerely and looked down at the demon behind him, taking a step to the side.
Almost instantly, the demon tried to inch back behind him, but Takagi outstretched his arm so the leash, which he held rather short, wouldn’t reach far enough for the demon to do so. The demon’s movements were slow and lazy, but when he hitched on the leash, he tried again, and again. Seemingly getting more restless with each attempt.
“No, Aizetsu.” He corrected firmly, but not harshly. “Today we’re going to do something a little different. Remember what I told you before we left this morning?”
You observed, feeling somewhat tense in having to witness this exchange. As expected however, the demon said nothing in return, but he did cease his attempts to hide behind him. Though you suspected it was more because of his fear for punishment rather than actual obedience.
“Today we’re visiting (Name). She’s a very kind woman who’s going to keep you in her salon for a few hours so she can get you thoroughly cleaned and washed.” The demon cautiously tilted his head at the man once it was mentioned he had to stay here. “It might be a little uncomfortable and scary at first, but I want you to behave and listen to everything she says, ok?”
It might’ve been spoken as a request, but you saw it for what it truly was. An order, a command for the timid demon to follow. An establishment of responsibility and leadership was what most demons needed to be made clear, especially if – in this case – the current caretaker was leaving the demon in someone else’s hands. Aizetsu needed to be made clear that he needed to listen to you and your instructions once Takagi left the salon to deal with other matters.
A simple concept on the surface, but for a demon that had been neglected or abused, having known nothing but dubious relationships with humans – this was like asking him to shift its entire understanding of reality, and to put themselves in a highly vulnerable position. After all, they didn’t know you. How could they possibly know what you were going to do with them?
Most rescues you’d groomed here at the salon had been terrified of you, because they were expecting you to act exactly like people had done in the past. They had no reason to trust you, no matter how much Takagi reassured and explained the process to them.
Expecting no answer from said demon, Takagi turned back to you. “I tested Aizetsu in a couple of social exercises back at the rescue center. So far, he’s not lashed out or snapped at anyone yet. But if you feel like he might be inclined to do so, please don’t hesitate to muzzle him for your safety.”
You hummed a nod, making a mental reminder of the demon having passed some social exercises so far. Which was a good sign, as you remembered past demon clients that desperately needed muzzles to keep yourself safe. You always tried your best to get demons through it without stressing them out too much, but sometimes you were left with no other choice. “Understood. Are there any triggers that I should keep in mind with Aizetsu?”
“He seems easily spooked by sudden loud noises, from what I’ve gathered in the few days we’ve had him around.” He pondered some more. “Same goes for unexpected touches, I like to think it helps if you announce what you’re going to do. That way you won’t take him by surprise.”
You crossed your arms over your chest. Judging from that, Aizetsu wasn’t going to like the water hose and the blow dryers once he’d been bathed. Which could complicate matters, but it would far from be the only time that you handled a demon scared for those very same things.
“I think he likes it when you talk to him too. Calm and quietly.” Takagi remarked. “He shrinks away when someone snaps at him.”
So a lot of calm talking, instructions and gentle touches. Got it. It was enough knowledge for you to start working on him, and you would undoubtedly come to discover new traits and things the rescued demon hadn’t expressed at the rescue center.
“Anything else you think I should know before I get to work?” You asked.
“Aside from the fact that he’s male, quiet, scared and timid – no, I don’t think so. Because frankly that’s all we know at the center. Oh, and if you discover anything else about him, or if something’s up, please don’t hesitate to message me. I’ve got my phone on me 24/7, so I’ll be guaranteed to see your message shortly.” His gaze narrowed at you. “If you feel like you can’t get the job done because of your precious cargo, you also tell me, ok?”
It was obvious that he, and everyone else that doubted your capabilities due to your pregnancy only voiced their concerns because they were worried for you and your infant. But you would be lying if it wasn’t starting to get to you, especially since you were still working and dealing with your client just fine without any incidents.
You reined in the annoyance. It was probably your anxieties and hormones speaking, but sometimes it felt like people were infantilizing you.
“I’m pregnant, not enfeebled.” You teased, laughing. “Don’t worry. I think I’ll manage, but if something’s up, I’ll call you.”
He gave you a knowing look, but allowed the matter to rest. “I’ll leave you to your work, then.” He offered you the leash and you took it without hesitation, wrapping the end tightly around your hand. While you didn’t want to show dominance explicitly, it was the way to get nervous and tense demons to understand the dynamic between you. Small gestures like those were required, whether you liked it or not. You were here to help them, not to suit your own needs and convictions.
The gesture didn’t escape Takagi, and a certain tension lifted from his features. He turned to the demon once again. “Aizetsu, I’ll be leaving you with (Name) now. While you’re getting your salon treatment, I have to get your three brothers to the groomers as well.”
At the mention of his siblings, the demon perked up; a soft noise escaping him as the tension seemed to leave him for a split second. For a moment you thought he was going to speak, to ask anything about his siblings, but he remained in the same silence as before, and Takagi smiled down at him. “Now, you behave and listen to (Name), got it? She’s going to take good care of you. I’ll pick you back up as soon as she’s finished.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the praise, feeling somewhat relieved that he was only dropping one of the four demons in your salon. From the small snippets of information Tagaki shared, Aizetsu’s other siblings seemed much more energetic, and there were only so many rescues you could put up with before needing some normal clients again.
Bathing, washing and taking care of Aizetsu, a clearly anxious demon, would be more than enough for you today.
You allowed your gaze to wander down at the cowering demon, who must’ve felt your eyes on him and timidly turned to you, before peeking back at his current caregiver. As if he wasn’t sure who to listen to, and a clear sign that Takagi needed to get his butt out of here already to avoid further confusion for the already nervous demon.
Understanding the hint, Takagi determinedly strode to the door. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be back to pick you up in a few hours, Aizetsu. So make sure to behave until then.” With one final wave, he exited the salon. Promptly followed with the sound of his departing vehicle.
An anxious whine left Aizetsu’s throat the instant Takagi disappeared from his sight, and he couldn’t stop looking at the door. Confirming exactly what you’d feared for. The man had stayed around for too long in this new and scary environment for the demon, and now the only person he was even a little familiar with had left him here with a complete stranger, you.
“Don’t you worry, he will be back soon enough.” You lowered yourself to his level, making certain you intercepted his line of sight and smiled. “How about we get you settled and prepared, Aizetsu?”
You didn’t wait for a reply, knowing you wouldn’t get one as he was figuring things out. You got back up on your feet and gently tugged on the leash a couple of times to have him follow you to the bathing area.
It took a little bit of prompting, but he eventually gave in and removed his sights from the door and followed you. All the while, you decided to talk to him to keep his thoughts from straying away to other matters and instead focus on you.
“First of all, I want to welcome you to my salon, Aizetsu. I’m (Name), and in my daily life I work as a demon groomer. Meaning that I work on making demons as clean and presentable as possible, and that’s exactly what we’ll be doing today. If you don’t mind me saying, you look like you desperately need a good washing and a nice haircut.”
He definitely needed way more, but the last thing you wanted was to overwhelm the demon with phrases he probably didn’t even know. As neglected as he was, he probably never had any of these things before.
No answer or sound came from the demon except his soft footsteps behind you. It was relieving to hear that he was actually following you. So far he was taking Takagi’s command to heart.
You then stopped, and the demon followed your example almost instantly. “Before we continue, I want to make you feel as comfortable as possible around here. You haven’t shown any signs of wanting to run away, and as such, I want to try and take your leash off.” You raised a brow at the demon, still clueless whether or not he could actually see you through that mountain of tangled and matted hair descending most of his body.
“But in order to do that, I’m gonna need you to listen to everything I say. Do you think you think you can do that? Otherwise we can leave it on, should you feel more at ease like that.”
The latter was definitely a possibility, especially for anxious demons. Sometimes the promise of freedom came with too much responsibility, and spooked them in the process.
At the mention of having his leash taken off, Aizetsu’s head jerked up and he slowly looked around the salon. As if he were deciding whether or not the area and person he found himself with was safe enough to be ok with such a thing. Nobody had ever asked him something like that – or asked him his opinion on anything, for that matter.
He was cowering so lowly, and taking so long that you were about to conclude that he wanted to keep it on. Either option was fine for you, though.
“…. take…. it….”
You were about to approach the bath by the wall when the softest noise caught your attention, and you froze. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn the sound was anything but his voice. Like the faint creak of a chair, undoubtedly from lack of use. But you did know better, and after Aizetsu had been wrapped in such silence with Takagi around, you’d almost started to believe that the demon refused to talk out of fear.
“What did you say, Aizetsu?” You gently prompted, a soft smile decorating your lips as you were starting to feel more hopeful for him. “You’ll have to speak up a bit louder, I didn’t quite get that.” You tried.
The shudder of a breath left him as he struggled with the idea that he was asked to speak his actual wants. Even if it was just a mere leash to you, to him it was anything but.
After another passing heartbeat, he tried again. His voice muffled mostly by the wall of thick hair around him. “I-I… I’d like it off.” He repeated louder this time, nearly stumbling over his words. Although it was still rather soft to you, you did manage to catch what he was trying to say. And that’s what mattered.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. If you decide later that you want it back on, just let me know, alright?” You reassured him. “I’m here to look after and take care of you, so if there’s anything you want me to know, don’t hesitate to tell me.”
You were aware this was a near impossible request for a demon pet like him to fulfill, but you laid it out there nonetheless. The more he believed he could trust you, the better. It would make this entire process so much smoother and easier on him.
“I’ll be removing your leash, then.” You informed him, remembering what Takagi had recommended: informing Aizetsu of everything you were going to do, and you assumed this regarded literally every little detail. “You have a lot of long hair though, so I will have to get up in there to do so. It might feel a little weird, but I assure you I won’t hurt you. Is that ok with you?”
The demon said nothing, and instead remained frozen on his spot on the floor. You decided to take his lack of reluctance and resistance as an answer, and slowly dropped down onto your knees while suppressing a groan from the weight of your belly, and extended your hands to the most furious black mane of chaotic hair you’d ever witnessed.
Gently, your fingers pushed aside the black locks for as much as the tangled state of them allowed you to. When he felt you touch his hair, Aizetsu took a sharp inhale and tensed like a brick.
It prompted you to halt. “Do you want me to stop?”
“N-no…” He whined out, and you almost believed he was on the verge of bursting out into tears. The poor thing was most likely expecting your touch to hurt him. Still, his answer was clear.
“Alright. I won’t hurt you, Aizetsu. I promise. I’m just going to remove the leash from your collar.” You kept reminding him as your fingers gently paved a path through his matted dark locks. Somewhere in the back of your head you wondered whether or not he genuinely believed what you were telling him, or was taking your claims as a lie wrapped up in gentleness. It was probably safe to assume the latter. But he favored the leash off so badly that he was willing to put himself through this suffering.
The demon was so tense he was actually trembling, and you were relieved when your fingers at last brushed against the familiar touch of steel at the end of the leash, and swiftly unhooked it from his collar and rolled it up in your hands.
That’s when you noticed how greasy and slick your skin had become just by lightly touching his hair. Not to mention the foul odor that now clung to your hands. Yyou had to try your best not to cringe for his sake.
Good heavens, you’d never seen a demon before that needed a bath and haircut as badly as Aizetsu did. And after four years of cleaning and taking care of rescues, that was saying a lot.
“There we go. The leash is off.” You said, ignoring the scent of death. You were going to add ‘Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ hadn’t the demon looked like he was moments away from passing out from shock; still as tense as a rock and trembling.
It had been a good first exercise to introduce him to non-harmful touching, but you decided it was better to give him a moment to try and recover from being touched by a literal stranger. So instead you approached the bath. “Now, what I’ll do next is run a bath for you, Aizetsu. The water will make a bit of noise and might be a tad unpleasant at first, but I assure you it will not hurt you in any kind of way.”
His steady but loud shudders of breath were the only indicator that he was listening, for they changed their rhythm every time he tried to register what you were telling him. When you turned on the water you spotted him flinching from the corner of your eye, confirming exactly what Takagi had told you about his fear of loud noises. Still, it was necessary for the process so the demon simply had to learn how to deal with it one way or another.
For now, you left the water running while turning to Aizetsu for the next step, and you were very curious how he was going to react to this. “Before we bathe you, I would like you to take off your clothes.”
The sudden request wasn’t enough to shake his tension, but you were pleased to see that his trembling ceased once his attention got shifted. The demon seemed to glance down at himself – at his long sleeved black shirt and matching loose pants, and then back up at you.
“Hmhm, those.” You affirmed, gesturing at the set of clean clothes the rescue center undoubtedly granted him. “It would be a shame if those got all wet and cold. That, and I cannot properly clean you unless you take them off.”
The demon seemed to struggle with what you were asking of him, and you didn’t blame him. Stripping in front of a stranger, especially when you’ve been neglected and abused by people from the same species must be a terribly daunting prospect, but unfortunately there was nothing else you could do to make this process any less vulnerable for him.
For a moment he hardly moved, but you waited patiently. Clearly he was considering his place here and the moments from his past. As well as the order that Takagi had given him to obey everything you asked of him, even if it went against everything his mind and body were screaming at him for the sake of self protection.
But then, slowly but surely – his long sleeves shifted and the hands he’d been hiding inside finally peeked out at the ends. You blinked, surprised to see the darker skin tone of said demon. With all of the chaotic hair you’d barely gotten a true glimpse at the actual demon yet, so to actually see details of him was a pleasant surprise because you were highly curious of what he would look like once you got through all that hair.
His hands looked like the rest of him – not taken care of in the slightest, and at the end of each finger were long, darkened fingernails that had not been clipped in forever.
Aizetsu had pushed his hands out of his sleeves to grab the hem of his shirt, but before he could nervously pull it over his head, you stopped him. “Just a second, Aizetsu. I’m going to get something real quick.”
He flinched and froze upon hearing your sudden command; instantly convinced that he’d done something wrong and upset you, and observed with tension as you pushed yourself up to walk to the back of the room to grab something, before making your way back over and slowly lowered yourself back on the floor. “You have such long nails, I think it would be good if we trimmed them a little bit before we continue.”
“W… why?” Came the muffled question from the thick mane of hair as he held his hands close to his chest, as if you were going to chop them off any moment now.
“They’re very dirty, and I might be mistaken, but I believe they are ragged and cracked at the edges.” You explained calmly, holding the clipper in front of you so he could observe it. “This is a nail clipper, it’s a simple tool to shorten your nails a little bit.”
Aizetsu cowered a little bit, and his trembling increased as he held his hands closer. “Please… don’t take my nails away…”
You shook your head, reminding yourself that despite his vulnerable display, it was important to stay positive and keep a soft smile on your lips to give him the impression it really wasn’t that serious. “I won’t, I’ll only make them a bit shorter. That way they won’t be as easily damaged, and way easier to clean.”
Aizetsu still didn’t look convinced, and you perked up as an idea struck you. “Here, I’ll show you. Look –” You raised your other hand and splayed it open so that he could clearly see your own trimmed nails. “This is what they’ll look like once I’m done.”
You got your answer regarding your earlier question whether or not the demon could actually see, because he quietly observed your raised hand before he dared to lean closer to get a better look. The demon then leaned back, peeking down at his own hands before dragging his gaze back to yours – and repeated that for a couple of times in a clear internal struggle happening inside his head.
He didn’t trust you, that much was clear. But with situations like these, he was starting to doubt his initial reaction because what you showed him made sense. More so than his instinctive responses currently did.
This was going to be a very slow process, you were beginning to realize. But it didn’t matter. This was why you only took one rescue a day and no other clients. Even if it took you all day, you were going to make sure this demon got a proper bath and haircut. You wouldn’t go home achieving anything less if it were up to you.
“Doesn’t look so bad, does it, Aizetsu?” You said, breaking through his pondering. After a heartbeat, he made the faintest shake of his head, and you smiled at his timidness. Lowering your hand between you with palm faced up, you asked; “Will you allow me to trim your nails? I promise I’ll be gentle with them.”
After all, they were very important to demons. Some of them had straight up claws, while others like Aizetsu didn’t. But there was still that sliver of instinct residing in their blood that made them believe they were very important to them, even if modern day demons didn’t hunt like they used to anymore. Without them, they felt like they had one less way of protecting themselves.
Which… was also why you needed them trimmed before you began bathing him. Takagi had advised to muzzle Aizetsu in case he ended up getting snappy to protect you from his large fangs, but demons had more than one way to harm others. Their claws – or nails in Aizetsu’s case – could still easily cut a human’s skin even with the slightest wipe. So for your own safety you always made certain to trim a demon’s claws or nails.
Another defensive tool was a demon’s horns. Fortunately for you, it appeared Aizetsu didn’t have any of those, which meant one less thing to concern yourself about.
After enough coercion, Aizetsu at last relented and tentatively held out his hand. He said nothing, but you could feel his piercing gaze nearly digging holes in your outstretched hand, ready to retreat at the first sign of you doing something he didn’t approve of, so you had to treat carefully. Lest you wished to repeat this entire cycle all over again.
“That’s good, Aizetsu.” You praised quietly as you slowly inched your hand closer to his. “May I take your hand in mine?”
There was another lack of response, but the demon didn’t retreat his hand, so you carefully reached out and took his larger hand into your own – becoming very aware of Aizetsu’s potential real size. He’d been cowering ever since he and Takagi entered the salon, so his full height and size once he stood upright on two legs was still a mystery to you.
“That’s good…” You repeated your praise in hope that would reassure him.
Gently, your fingers enclosed around his hand as you reached forward to begin the process of trimming his very long and filthy nails. You nearly failed to hide your disgust at the neglect this demon must’ve suffered through as a resounding click echoed through the space of the salon as you clipped his index finger, the top of his nail flicking into some random direction.
Aizetsu jolted lightly at the sudden noise, as expected, and you loosened your hold just enough for him to not feel restricted. His gaze focused on his trimmed nail, and much to his surprise he found that it indeed looked quite similar to your own.
It was enough to have him inch his hand closer on his own, and you went to work on his second digit, then the third, the fourth – until the entire hand was finished. All while keeping a watchful eye on his posture and reactions. Just because he was a timid demon that seemed to trust you for now, did not mean he couldn’t lash out unpredictably.
“And now the other hand.” To your surprise he obeyed without nearly any hesitation; replacing his trimmed hand with the other. A smile crept to your lips as you neatly clipped his other nails. There certainly was hope yet for this timid and anxious demon, even if his hand was literally trembling within your grasp.
“Aaaand all done. You did really well, Aizetsu.” You released his hand and watched how he observed it quietly; rubbing the pad of his thumb along the edges of his trimmed nails in an almost entranced motion. This really must’ve been the first time anyone ever trimmed his nails.
“That looks so much better.” Feeling a surge of satisfaction, you put the nail clipper to the side for now. You doubted the nails on his feet looked anything better, and in a perfect scenario you would trim those right after – but just like with their hands, demons were very protective of their feet as well. Since you were already asking so much from the anxious demon, you decided to wait with that after you bathed him and cut his hair.
Speaking of which… you suddenly found yourself conflicted as you observed the demon. He really was almost entirely covered with his long hair, and the state of it was just downright terrible. To have hair that was as tangled and matted as his must be really painful for the demon’s scalp… so much that you were actually considering already cutting pieces off before you even decided to bathe and wash him.
“Your hair must be so heavy and painful, with all those matted locks tugging against your scalp…”
You hadn’t realized you’d spoken that part out loud until Aizetsu turned his focus back to you. He briefly fidgeted with his fingers. “It does hurt.” His quiet voice broke the silence.
Your heart trembled in sympathy for the poor demon, and you swallowed against the sudden block lodged in your throat. To have him affirm your suspicions only made you feel worse, but most of all angry at the person responsible. “I’m considering cutting off some big chunks of your hair before I decide to bathe you. Would you like that?”
“Yes…” He responded almost instantly, confirming that the matter of his hair was a priority for the demon, and you felt bad for making him endure the nail clipping before even prioritizing the biggest problem in the room. You’d done so to keep yourself safe while working on him, but still.
“I will have to get close to you. Kinda like before when I detached the leash from your collar.” To emphasize the meaning, you tentatively shuffled closer, watching the demon’s posture carefully as he watched you. With his hands balled in the fabric of his pants, his body was as rigid as a rock, but aside from that you still sensed no sign of hostility from the demon.
“Rinsing your head like it is now, the weight of your hair will be immense, and I don’t want to potentially hurt you.” You explained slowly as you reached down your apron and pulled out one of your scissors from one of the small pockets and held the tool in front of him. He stared at it for a passing second before slightly leaning forward, maybe smelling it. “This is what I’ll use to cut your hair.”
The only response was a deep, shuddering sigh.
You had no clue whether your current scissors were sharp enough to cut hair of such bad quality, but you would try. You knelt down next to him and reached over him to grab locks of his dark, thick hair. Cutting off excess and terribly matted and tangled pieces that you could reach easily. All the while, Aizetsu endured the start of the haircut with the stiffness of a plank. The fierce grip he had on his pants causing his knuckles to pale.
He hated this. His previous owner hardly ever approached him and his brothers. Touches equaled pain, that’s simply how it had always been like in that basement, and If it wasn’t him who bore the front of it, it was certainly one of his brothers in the other rooms.
And while Aizetsu initially didn’t sense any hint of hostility from you, he just couldn’t let his guard down. No matter how kind you acted, you were still a total stranger. Every time you mentioned getting close, all he could see before his obscured eyes was a vague shadow looming over him, and he instinctively tensed up; preparing for a sudden blow to the head, to the hands, legs, or any other vulnerable spot.
Hearing the sound of snapping scissors, along with the ghost-like caress of your fingers through his hair made him want to rip himself away and hide somewhere until Takagi returned to pick him up. Only problem being, if he did, Aizetsu would be in big trouble, he just knew it. Everything he did could potentially be punishable. Even answering your questions felt like treading into dangerous territory, and yet refusing to answer wasn’t an option either because he’d be defying you, and that was a certified way to get punished.
Either way, he was going through hell. He was almost starting to long to be back in that dark basement. The lack of attention and the few unexpected touches his previous owner gave him were so much better than being approached and touched this much by you and the other rescue workers all so suddenly.
At least in that dark house he knew his brothers were nearby somewhere. Aizetsu hadn’t even seen them ever since he got taken from the house, and he missed them dearly. Scenarios of what happened to them constantly haunted him. Takagi did mention that he was bringing them to grooming salons as well, but somehow the meaning of that passed him by in his constant panic. He couldn’t do anything but worry for their wellbeing.
With each snip, large locks of thick hair dropped to the floor around him, and Aizetsu decided to start counting how many pieces you cut off. Anything to try to get his heart to stop bursting out of his chest from panic and stress of what his future could possibly bring.
Because so far it was only getting worse and worse since he’d been separated from his brothers...
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zingaplanet · 6 months
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Here's my take on the loki finale and why Mobius is the only one of the gang who didn't seem to have a conclusive, 'hopeful' ending.
Can't predict what the writers are thinking but the way I understand it is it's a hint that there's no version of reality where Loki is not there with him that will ever leave him fulfilled.
"Most purpose is more burden than glory," he said.
Others are shown finally having the choice to pursue their own "glory"/hope/ happiness. B-15 finds her purpose to lead and protect something she believes in, O.B. gets to live out his science fiction dream, writing a book of a place he now knows to be true and care about.
The end scene with Mobius and Sylvie is fascinating, for instance, because it shows the contrast between them both. Sylvie is different, she's reconstructed her own reality, found her own happines, lived a whole new life in the timeline without Loki or anyone.
But Mobius is the realist out of them all.
Mobius said before that he'd rather not know about his life before as it's easier not to, that the TVA is his whole life, that that's where he belongs. When the TVA changed, he finally left, but now he's there in front of the life he's supposed to have but he's in no hurry to go back, content to just "let the time pass."
I think he knows no matter which purpose he chose, whether at the TVA or getting his memory reinstalled back to him for a life on the timeline, there will always be a 'burden', something left lurking behind.
Maybe he realises he doesn't have a place 'he belongs to' anymore.
Perhaps it also dawns on him then, that it's never about the how (the TVA is changed now, no more prunings, no more sacred timeline, he would've done something he'd morally believe in if he stayed),
or the what (the jet skis, his garden, even his family, it could never be the same. It's incomplete, with all the burden of eons of memories behind him, and the lost of someone who made it possible)
or even the why (he's driven by 'the bigger picture', it's his one saving grace, the one thing he holds on to. He spent eons doing the same thing over and over, protecting the sacred timeline and what he believes to be true, when that turned out to be a bust, he turned his life upside down to protect his new purpose, the multiverse, but all of it is still to waste, they couldn't do it still, not without sacrificing-)
In the end, that wasn't what it's all about. The reason this whole madness started was because of one simple act of his, an insignificant character, to save someone, to be willing to take the leap in trusting one that everyone always dooms to fail. To tell that person, who never had anyone believe in him before, that they could "be anyone they want to be, even someone good."
It was never about the universe. Loki was right. It was never about the how, the what, or the why.
All along,
It was always about the who.
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otaku553 · 6 months
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Ok so I have been stewing this crossover au in my brain nonstop for the past few days and. I am nothing if not committed to the bit, so. Volume cover redraws :)
Here are the originals:
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If you want to read more about my one piece spy x family crossover, keep reading!
So the idea is simple! Crossover reincarnation au where ASL is reborn in Spy x Family. They’re each born separately and none of them are born with the same names as their previous lives, and with no way of finding each other, they each find their own thing to do in the world.
Sabo, too used to the dangers of being a spy, eventually finds a cause to devote himself to again, in preventing war from engulfing the country he was reborn in. Ace, drawn to fire as he was in his previous life, used arson as a means to rob rich people for sustenance and survival, and is eventually scouted and hired by Garden as a fire specialist and assassin. And Luffy, though born in perhaps the poorest condition, grows up happily and takes whatever part time jobs he wants to do.
The thing about Sabo is that, as much as he seems like a young man of good repute and high standing within society, everyone in WISE knows that he is a massive nuisance. Nobody knew in the beginning how a child less than half the age of most of their veteran agents could have the same skills and knowledge in their profession. Sabo was— and still is— hyper competent, and by the time WISE figured out just how much of a menace to society he was, it was too late.
Ace forgot for the first few years of his new life that he wasn’t made of fire, and consequently, received multiple accidental burns. This did not deter him, however, from growing up to be a very skilled arsonist, well-practiced in every which way to start a dumpster fire or house fire. As a teenage he would use this often to draw attention as he robbed rich people blind. When he was caught, he was given an ultimatum by Garden: join them and receive payment for starting fires and causing problems under contract, or face the government and authorities for his crimes. Begrudgingly, he joined Garden, but eventually comes to appreciate that he can make substantial money in his element.
Luffy is Luffy. No telepathy or experimentation, no fancy schools, no gimmicks or secret identities. But he has still lived an extremely colorful life in this world, full of fascinating and kind individuals who have helped him grow up healthy and relatively happy. He goes where he is free, and he takes whatever part time jobs he wants in order to make the minimum he needs to survive.
Ace and Sabo find each other first, in their late teens, and neither of them realize that the other remembers their previous life, but both refuse to separate. (Sabo thinks Ace doesn’t remember, because Ace didn’t recognize him. Ace never saw Sabo grow up past 10, however, so he doesn’t recognize older Sabo immediately. By the time he does realize who exactly Sabo is, Sabo has backtracked and pretends to know Ace from a dream, or from somewhere else.)
Sabo’s attachment to Ace, predictably, causes problems between Sabo and WISE, but by then, Sabo is indispensable to the organization, and they make an exception for Sabo to be able to remain with Ace, so long as Ace never finds out what Sabo’s actual job is. Ace, on the other hand, hides his job because he doesn’t want his brother, who he has just found and who does not know Ace well enough yet, to know that he makes a living from killing people.
And they find Luffy sometime afterwards, prior to the beginning of the Spy x Family canon. Luffy figures out, not long after moving in with his brothers, both of his brothers’ secret occupations and the fact that both of them remember their past memories. He thinks it is common knowledge, however, and so he never brings it up.
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feeder86 · 22 days
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Train to Gain
“I want to get jacked!” Jay declared, standing in front of his new personal trainer with his chest puffed out.
Matt nodded, having heard the same thing many times from plenty of guys like Jay, in their early twenties. “Okay, so we’re aiming for muscle gains,” he clarified, making a note of it. “Is there a reason why you want to make this your focus?” he asked, seeing from Jay’s body that he already had a pretty good build that most guys would have been envious of.
Jay nodded. “I’ve just split up with a girl I’ve been with since high school,” he stated without a drop of remorse or sorrow. “I feel like I want to finally do something for myself. You know what I mean? I want to look good. Muscular. Lean.”
Matt nodded. So, just like all the other guys, this one believed that getting more muscle on him would help him score with the ladies. He didn’t need a PhD to crack that little mystery about the boy’s true intention. It was a tale as old as time itself. 
Being so muscular himself, guys like Jay seemed to gravitate towards Matt on an almost daily basis, knowing that he could deliver the results they wanted. They saw his statuesque physique in the gym and felt that working out with a guy as built as he was was akin to ordering that body type for themselves in a catalogue. But Matt was not convinced by this latest client. Jay was a pretty-looking boy, with large soulful eyes and a gentle innocence about him. He wouldn’t be single for long. Some girl would come along, snap him up, and this whole muscle workout craze would be a thing of the past for him.
Nevertheless, Matt settled down to a detailed conversation about what it would take, the commitment Jay would need to make and the amount of sessions he would arrange with him each week. It was obvious that Jay had all the enthusiasm for his goals, but little knowledge of how to actually get there. “We’ll take things slow to begin with,” he smiled. “Then we’ll see how we get on.”
Seeming pleased, Jay shook Matt’s hand and threw his workout bag over his shoulder to leave. Then, as Jay was walking out of the gym, Matt watched as the eyes of every woman in there drifted towards his cute, tight glutes in his fitted gym shorts. Matt chuckled, nodding knowingly. It may have been Jay’s first time being single in his adult life, but it wouldn’t take the pretty boy long to work out that he didn’t need any more muscle to get women. Three weeks, maximum, Matt predicted. There was no way Jay would be paying for his services for longer than that; not when he didn’t need to.
Matt was aware that he was in the minority when it came to enjoying those winter months. But as the holidays came and went, he jumped out of bed with a renewed spring in his step, knowing that the gym would be fit to bursting with chubby, overweight and under-exercised guys trying to make a fresh start for the New Year. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly it was that he loved about them so much: that doughy shape, the jiggle of fat as they strolled on the treadmills. Maybe it was the way their sweat made their tight gym clothes stick to their rounded bodies . Matt was both mesmerised and fascinated by it all at the same time. 
It was around this time of year that he had met his now ex-boyfriend who had been trying to lose a few pounds back then. He’d copped a lot of crap from his colleagues at the gym for dating someone so big, and he’d had to challenge them multiple times for their attitudes towards the match. So what if he was into bigger guys? Whose business was it who he dated? Certainly not theirs. Not that any of it mattered in the end. Nine months in and the whole relationship had fallen apart anyway. His heart broken, just as they had all been expecting,
“Alright! That was pretty good!” Matt marvelled a staggering twelve weeks later, as Jay successfully squatted his biggest weight yet. He slapped the guy on his shoulder and passed him his water. “You’re killing it!” he smiled encouragingly.
“But I don’t look any different yet,” Jay grumbled, repeating the same complaint that had surfaced again and again in their recent sessions. “Sure, I’m a little stronger, but not much.”
“We’re taking it slow, remember,” Matt stated calmly. “You were quite clear from the start that you wanted to add muscle the lean way. It just takes a little more time.”
“But what’s the alternative?” Jay asked.
“Proper bulking,” Matt replied. “You give your body all the calories it needs to grow. We discussed this in our first meeting, remember?” he explained, a little exasperated. “You were insistent. You wanted a lean muscle bulk.”
“I want to be bigger,” Jay shot back.
“If you go with the bulking option, you’d have to accept the fact that not all of the gains you make would be muscle,” Matt tried to clarify.
“But I saw this guy online…” Jay began, rambling yet again about some viral influencer who claimed to know it all about how to get ripped with ease.
Matt bit his tongue. He genuinely liked Jay, but he was fed up of trying to debunk all of the insane fitness myths clients came in with these days. He was only twenty seven, and yet he wondered how much longer he could stand to do this job when there was so much misinformation out there. “Look, let’s just try it,” he suggested forcefully, cutting Jay off mid sentence. “I’ll set you up with a bulking plan and we’ll see what happens. If you’re not happy after a couple of weeks, you can fire me and send all your money to those online fitness con artists instead,” he stated plainly.
Still not seeming overly convinced, Jay nodded. “Okay. We’ll try this your way…”
“So, have you got much planned for your week off?” Matt asked Jay a good few weeks later. He’d found that he didn’t struggle with small talk as much with Jay as he did some of his other clients. They seemed to share the same sense of humour and had successfully recommended more than one decent TV show to each other in the past.
“I’m going to a wedding,” Jay answered, sitting himself back ready to lift.
“A wedding, huh?” Matt asked, loading on the weights ready. “That’s a great place to meet girls,” he said, finding it bizarre that Jay was still single after all this time.
“Not a chance!” Jay chuckled, lifting his hands up to grab the bar. “I told you, I’m done with all that.”
“Whatever you say!” Matt chuckled back; his eyes catching sight of Jay’s stomach as the guy’s t-shirt rose, ready for the lift. He could tell that the bulking diet was well underway, with a padded thickness around Jay’s middle, bulging to the sides to form what many might consider the beginnings of love handles.
Jay lifted like never before. After one set he insisted that Matt make the bar even heavier again; grunting with the extreme effort it took.
“You did it!” Matt marvelled, finally setting the bar back minutes later. “I can’t get over how quickly you’re progressing now.”
Jay sat up, spreading his legs wide and owning the space he was in. It was a feeling Matt knew all too well: the sense of power and size after lifting more than ever before. “This bulking is really working, isn’t it?” Jay smiled.
“It is!” Jay nodded, trying to mask his surprise at just how much more noticeable Jay’s extra thickness was around his waist when he sat up like this. There was no way the guy was going to stick out the full bulking period; the boy seemed genetically predisposed to carry a tight little paunch at this size. Already Matt could sense the cut was on the horizon.
Once again, Matt’s predictions fell flat on their face. As more weeks went by, Jay was very quickly becoming one of Matt’s strongest clients. However, it was all coming at quite a cost to the guy’s naturally athletic physique. Built around a solid core, Jay’s chunky middle was rounded and significantly paunch-like in appearance, despite being somewhat muted by the large chest and muscular shoulders that had grown alongside it. If Jay had been going for that muscular V-shaped back, he had fallen far short of the mark. His stout tummy had swelled out his love handles to a size that could not be hidden by pretty much any of the t-shirts that he wore in the gym. Matt had even seen the guy out and about upon occasion, feeling shocked at just how thick and overfed he actually looked; especially with that meaty swagger he had about him, artificially pushing out his arms to increase his width.
“And, we’ll finish with twenty minutes on the treadmill,” Matt declared during their next session, waiting for the exhausted guy to sluggishly pick himself up off the weight machine.
“The treadmill?” Jay asked, as if Matt had been joking. “I’m not paying for you to watch me on the treadmill for twenty minutes,” he laughed.
“You do realise that we’re going to be putting a lot more cardio exercises into your routine from now on? We agreed to start cutting from next week, remember?”
Jay brushed him off, insisting that he could do another set on the machine he was currently on. The rest of the session continued in that manner until the time was depleted. Then a sweaty, beefy looking Jay simply lifted a protein shake to his mouth and began chugging.
“What’s in that thing?” Matt asked, noticing that it was far thicker than any of the recipes he had supplied to Jay. He took it from Jay’s limp hand and held it to his nose. “That’s so sweet!” he gasped, recoiling slightly. Swirling the remaining third in the bottle, Matt declared with absolute certainty that this was not part of the diet plan he had given Jay.
“I found the recipe online,” Jay shot back, snatching the shake back and draining it quickly. “I drink four of these daily. Your shake recipes were good, but I wasn’t packing on the muscle half as quickly as I am now.”
Matt winced. Jay had been heading in the wrong direction for weeks now; his muscle gains overshadowed by significant increases in fat. And Matt had been ignoring it all, pushing it to the back of his mind, denying it. “Have you got the recipe for me to look at?” he asked diplomatically.
Jay lazily held out his hand for Matt to pass him his cell phone from his bag. Then, after a couple of seconds, the webpage link came buzzing through to Matt.
“Um…” Matt mumbled, feeling his heart beating with worry. “Have you really been drinking these four times a day? Did you not think to check out the ingredients? All that sugar? Condensed milk?”
“I’m not an idiot!” Jay grumbled back, as Matt noticed the fat that was starting to build up under the handsome boy’s chin and into his cheeks. “These things promise results and they deliver. I’ve gained 25 lbs in the last two months alone!”
Matt took a step back, feeling that he had let Jay down more than any other client he had ever had. Yet, somewhere deep inside of him was a spark of attraction. Jay was starting to look genuinely fat. It was literally spreading across his entire body and had been doing so for weeks.  “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled guiltily. “I should have been more on top of your diet planner. This should never have happened.”
Jay seemed utterly perplexed by Matt’s remorse, but he agreed to pack up his stuff and head out to a local cafe for a more thorough debrief. They sat with two coffees at a small table near the front as Matt considered how best to insist that Jay quit the shakes as soon as possible.
Matt thought he had his speech all ready to go. He inhaled, ready to begin, when he suddenly noticed that Jay’s attention was elsewhere. A large, overweight guy had come in through the door, making Jay look across with interest. Matt followed his gaze and then cringed with regret, realising that the man was none other than his ex boyfriend, Chris. They had just made eye contact.
“I’m really sorry about this!” Matt blasted out, realising that his almost 400 lb ex was heading over to the table and there was nothing that he could do to stop him.
“Hello Matt,” the large bellied guy smiled. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah,” Matt nodded, not looking directly at him in the hopes that he would soon get the message and leave them be. “Nice to see you, Chris,” he lied.
“I gained a bit of weight recently,” Chris went on, patting his fat stomach. “I’d love to show you some time.”
“I’m actually with a client right now!” Matt hissed, losing patience. “When I said that things were over between us, I meant it.”
Chris looked down at them both, giving Jay in particular the most filthy of looks. Then he turned, deciding that the coffee house was no good after all and disappeared out of the door.
“Who was that?” Jay exclaimed the second the guy’s large form had disappeared beyond the windows. 
“My ex,” Matt sighed, feeling frustrated that they should bump into each other here; whilst he was with a client no less! “We broke up about eight months ago.”
“You? And HIM?” Jay asked in disbelief, making it hard for Matt to tell whether it was the fact that he dated guys that most surprised Jay, or the sheer size of that ex-boyfriend. Either way, it became the focus of a long line of questions that Matt was finding difficult to deflect.
“I’ve made a decision,” Jay finally declared as they at last got off the topic of Matt’s love life. “I want to keep the bulk going for another six weeks.”
“I would very strongly advise against that,” Matt replied immediately.
“Six more weeks!” Jay laughed, as if he was making the simplest of alterations to their training plan. “It’s nothing! You need to learn to relax, buddy!”
Matt sighed. Perhaps because he was still reeling from coming face to face with Chris again, he did not feel especially inclined to argue. Jay was a client after all, and his wishes had to be respected - even if he was making a choice that Matt knew would make it significantly harder for the guy to get back in shape afterwards.
Just as Matt had anticipated, the weight that poured onto Jay’s body over the coming weeks was nothing more than pure fat. He’d find himself staring at it, having never felt so conflicted in his life. He was attracted by fat on a guy’s body, yes. But Jay was also a client who was confused by all of the bad advice out there and had caught himself up in a pattern of weight gain that was bloating his previously toned body. The sight of it, Matt had to admit, was nothing short of wildly arousing.
“He’s one of yours isn’t he?” asked one of the other trainers as Jay walked in for his training session wearing a t-shirt that was significantly too tight for his bloated torso. The guy braced himself against the wall to stretch out his calves, not realising how much his shirt had ridden up in the process and exposing a good three inches of his new, overfed tummy pushing itself over the waistband.
“Great work, Matt,” sneered Harry, the other male trainer, giving him a sarcastic slow clap as the three of them all watched Jay from a good distance.
Matt wanted to explain how he hadn’t been to blame; how Jay had found bad advice online instead, and was continuing to bulk against his advice. However, there was a strange thrill in not saying anything at all; something that Matt could not explain, even if he tried. 
Next, Jay began squatting, spreading his chunky legs wide apart with the good posture that Matt had taught him, then lifting his body up and down. It was a simple move and not at all noteworthy but for the extreme tightness of the shorts he was wearing, pulling the waistband lower and lower at the back, revealing more and more of his butt crack with each dip; thanks in part to the similarly undersized underwear he had on underneath.
“Ugh!” laughed Harry.. “No one wants to see that!”
Matt looked around at the others in the gym. Jay was indeed getting looks of disapproval, and even disgust, for his scandalously tight clothing.
“You need to have a word,” the trainers all agreed. “He’s putting people off. It’s bad for business.”
Matt sighed. He knew what they were saying was right, but how could he even begin a conversation about it to a client who was paying him? Especially one he was starting to crush on in the most inappropriate of ways.
Despite Jay’s confidence on the weights, it was quite clear during that session that the guy wasn’t making as much progress with his lifting than he obviously thought he was. In fact, his lifting had peaked almost two months earlier and there had been minimal successes since then. What had changed was the amount of sweating Jay was doing; leaving the machines with a damp imprint of his overfed rear which Matt wiped down each time. But with the sweating, Jay’s clothing tightened around him even more. Matt didn’t need to see Jay on the scales, he was an expert on every part of his body, knowing exactly how it was altering because he could see it right there, before his very eyes. He had to breathe a little deeper when he felt the arousal getting too much for him. Jay’s butt was pure perfection; shaped by good genes and some decent early muscle gains, but now swelling and widening with the pounds and pounds of fat the guy was amassing.
Jay had been buzzing about his new apartment; finally allowing him to get out of parents’ place. It was going to make bulking a lot easier, he’d declared, making Matt feel uneasy about how much more extreme his client may take things.
“I’ve got boxes and boxes of stuff all over the place,” Jay complained. “I need a good sort out, really. It’s just so easy to dump it all in the closet and forget about it though.”
“That reminds me,” Matt jumped in, seeing an opening and seizing upon it. “I got an email the other day for a good discount on the online shop I use for clothes,” he began, having pondered over how best to approach the clothes issue for the entire hour of their session. “It can be quite hard to find stuff that fits right when you’re a bodybuilder.”
“Tell me about it!” nodded the chubby boy, not sensing the irony in his words in the slightest. “None of my clothes fit properly anymore.”
Matt nodded. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a good lead in to discuss Jay’s dissatisfaction with his clothing and how he shouldn’t really be feeling such tightness around his stomach when he was trying to pack on muscle. As it was, he could feel the eyes of the other trainers on the back of his head. The only task he had to complete was getting Jay out of those ridiculously tight gym clothes. “I use this brand,” he lied, showing Jay the webpage he had just got up on his cell phone. He knew that impressionable guys like Jay wanted to look like him; to have the same confidence and presence. If he recommended a clothes line to them, he was pretty certain they would take it. “With the progress you’ve been making, you could probably get away with the extra large, but the 2XL might suit your needs more if you’re still in the bulking phase. Fast delivery too.”
Jay nodded with interest and took every link that Matt sent him. 
“I’ve spoken to him about the clothes,” Matt nodded, seeing the faces of expectation from the other trainers as he went back after the session ended.
“I know it’s tough having to tell a client that they’re getting too heavy,” Harry nodded. “But when he’s spilling out of his clothes like that, enough is enough. It’s time to say something.”
Matt nodded, knowing that Harry was exactly right. But that wasn’t what he had done, was it? He’d sent Jay off believing that he was making ‘progress’ and that he needed to wear clothes suitable for bodybuilders. The reality was anything but. Jay was chubby and out of shape. He’d not done any cardio in… it must have been months! He was a client who kept Matt awake at night with his feelings of guilt. He was letting the guy down, and this latest stunt was his worst sin of all.
It came as no surprise when Jay continued to be obsessed with bulking, even after the third and fourth deadlines for cutting came and went. The small mercy was that Jay was at least dressed better in the gym. With his new clothes, he was starting to look like any other broad, fat guy. His pretty face was still getting him the odd glance from some of the women, but the fatter body underneath was more than enough to ensure that it never progressed into anything more.
“You’ll never guess what I managed to get tickets for!” Jay blasted one Wednesday evening as he came in for his session.
“No way?” Matt grinned, knowing exactly where Jay was going with this. “You got them? But the concert has been sold out for months!”
“They were giving away tickets on the radio. I phoned up, answered some trivia questions live on air with someone else and… they’re mine!” he grinned, clearly delighted with himself.
“Congratulations!” Matt beamed. “I’m so jealous! You’re going to have such a great time!”
“No… WE’RE going to have such a great time,” Jay corrected him. “They asked me on the radio show who I wanted to take with me, and I told them your name. You’re the only person I know who is as obsessed with them as I am. No one else would appreciate it like you would.”
Matt’s initial reaction was to decline. There were many clients who tried to socialise outside of these sessions, but it was almost always unprofessional to do so. However, he had also desperately wanted to see this band since he was eight years old. Plus, he and Jay did genuinely seem to get on pretty well.”
“Can I give you some money for the ticket then?” he asked.
“No, I got them for free,” Jay shot back, shaking his head.
“Well, I’ll drive us then,” Matt tried to compromise, knowing that the concert was a good couple of hours away. “I know where your new place is. I can pick you up at about 4pm on Saturday afternoon?”
Jay nodded, accepting the offer without hesitation. Then, for the rest of the week, Matt was telling all of his clients about the concert and how excited he was. He was amazed that not a single person had heard of the band or even recognised any of the tracks when he played a couple of samples for them on his cell phone. ‘What the hell was wrong with people?’ he thought to himself, highlighting in his mind just how much better he clicked with Jay than anyone else he worked with.
That Saturday, Matt didn’t really know who he was trying to impress as he slipped on his most expensive shirt and left the last three buttons undone to expose part of his strapping chest. He turned up at Jay’s building, expecting to head straight off, but was instead buzzed inside.
“Sorry!” Jay spluttered, opening the door to him, covered with only a small towel around his waist, fresh from the shower. “I had a big lunch and fell asleep! I only woke up ten minutes ago.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Matt nodded, trying to keep his eyes fixed on Jay’s face and not look down to explore his client’s beautifully chubby proportions. “We’ve got plenty of time.”
Jay trotted back into his bedroom; his jiggly love handles bouncing with the quick pace he was going at. Matt simply took a deep breath and tried to control the arousal that he felt. He looked around the apartment, coming to one very obvious conclusion: This was the home of a fat guy. It was obvious; from the small armies of empty beer cans, to the carnage of emptied take out containers and pizza boxes. Discarded clothes dotted the space and Matt found himself meandering into the kitchen; his curiosity getting the better of him. He opened the refrigerator and peeked in all of the cupboards as quietly as he possibly could. What he found was far worse than he ever would have imagined: cakes, candy, cookies and several containers of those disastrous protein shakes… Jay had the lot, and then some. The guy was eating like a pig and putting on weight at a frankly alarming rate. Matt tried to breathe deeply again, but this time, the blood rushing towards his groin seemed determined to give him a full on erection.
“Thanks for waiting for me,” Jay smiled moments later, coming out in a shirt that was far too small for his stout little gut. He opened the refrigerator and downed one of his shakes, as was his usual routine at this time. Once again, Matt had to look away. Then, as the last of it drained, Jay lifted his arms and pumped his biceps, now covered in a good layer of pure fat.
The conversation flowed well in the car as the pair listened to a few of the band’s old albums and talked at length about their shared interests.
“If we’ve still got twenty minutes before we need to go in, I’m going to find some food,” Jay declared once they had parked up. He walked slightly ahead as Matt tried to avert his eyes away from the guy’s wide, overfed glutes, barely contained in his overly tight pants. “I absolutely love bulking,” he declared a few minutes later, holding a giant burger in both hands and raising it part way to his mouth. Then, like a genuine glutton, he dropped his head over it and began feasting with his large shoulders hunched forwards.
Matt genuinely did try to enjoy the concert, but he was conscious of trying to hold back an erection the entire time. He wondered why his brain had to be wired up this way. Why couldn’t he just enjoy the music without getting turned on by the significantly chubby guy he had come here with? He’d had to sit for significant periods of the concert with his hands resting over his crotch as Jay danced beside him, arms up in the air and his rounded tummy popping out. It was so humid in there, making Jay glow with a beautiful fat-boy sweat and ensuring that his clothes plastered themselves to his thick body even more than they already were doing.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Jay smiled the moment the lights came up. “How would you like to go backstage?”
Matt couldn’t believe it as he was shaking hands with his idols and chatting away with other fans backstage only minutes later. It truly was an extraordinary night.
“So, how do you guys know each other?” the lead singer asked as he came up to them both at the bar.
“Matt’s my personal trainer,” Jay answered, downing his beer into his bloated belly.
“I can see you’ve got your work cut out for you,” the singer whispered to Matt, tapping him on his strong back in sympathy.
“I’m in the best shape of my life,” Matt went on, clearly a little tipsy. He put his beer down and reached into his tight pocket to pull out his cell phone. “This is me, before I started training,” he declared, passing the singer a picture of him from just under eleven months ago: slim, handsome, athletic.
“And this is you… ‘before’ you started training?” the guy asked, ensuring that he wasn’t misunderstanding.
Jay nodded enthusiastically, raising his chubby arms to flex and simultaneously letting his chubby belly fall out for the umpteenth time that evening.
“Right,” the singer nodded, confused and surprised; possibly wondering if Jay was making some sort of joke. He slapped Matt on the back once more, then headed off to speak to some others.
When Jay asked to stop off for more food on the way back, Matt didn’t feel that he really had the right to refuse him after the night they had had together. However, it was yet another torturous exercise, having to sit next to Jay as he was gorging his fat body on more fries and burgers in the passenger seat. The sounds of his greedy chewing and swallowing were turning on an already stimulated sex drive to even greater extremes.
“I thought he might have been flirting with you,” Jay explained as they discussed their encounter with the lead singer. “The way he kept on tapping you on the back like that.”
“That wasn’t what that was about,”  Matt answered simply as he tried to control the boner he was getting, listening to Jay sucking air as he reached the end of his gigantic milkshake.
“You must have people flirting with you all the time, the shape you’re in,” Jay continued, stuffing the last of the fries into his mouth.
Matt took a breath in, wondering how to answer something like that. The answer was yes; he certainly did get a lot of attention from both guys and girls. But, as was being made strikingly clear to him that evening, the types of people he found attractive himself were often quite far from what most would expect.
“You don’t talk much about this sort of stuff, do you?” Jay asked him next after a pause.
“Neither do you,” Matt shot back.
“I’m just out of a long term relationship,” Jay replied grandly.
“Over a year ago!” Matt laughed. “In that case, I can use the same excuse.”
“You mean that huge guy we met in the coffee house that time? You were really into him?”
“I was in love with him, yes,” Matt replied, feeling that the conversation was getting a little too close to the bone now.
“How did he get that big? Was he always fat? Or did he just put on weight as an adult?” Jay pressed on obliviously.
“Combination of both, I expect,” Matt shrugged, trying to think of how to shift the conversation away from his ex.
“Do you think I could ever get as big as he is?” Jay asked.
Matt looked across at Jay in confusion. “Chris wasn’t a weight lifter, y’know?” he stated plainly. “He was probably as weak as a kitten. He was just… very overweight.”
“I just remember him being large,” Jay shrugged. “Guys like that always make me feel a little jealous.”
“There aren’t many people who would be jealous of Chris’ body type,” Matt chuckled, assuming that Jay was making fun.
“I think, if I kept up my protein shakes, I’d have a chance at getting to his sort of size,” Jay pondered aloud.
“I have no doubt that you would,” Matt nodded. “But it wouldn’t be lean muscle, I can promise you that.”
“Do you think it would suit me?” Jay asked playfully back.
Now Matt felt entirely on the backfoot. There was no way to answer the question without incriminating himself somehow. “I guess so,” he mumbled vaguely.
“So, do you think I should give up weight lifting then?” the guy immediately replied..
“I didn’t say that,” Matt countered.
“It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently. I’ve had a lot more success gaining weight and getting big in other ways, rather than muscle. Maybe I should just focus on that?”
“You know exactly what I’d say to that. I’m a personal trainer!” Matt reminded him. “Of course you’re not supposed to give up weight training and just let yourself get fat.”
“You can be such a square sometimes,” Jay laughed. “You’re so caught up with your diet plans, your nutrition goals and research papers on exercise schedules. You forget that most people don’t care about any of that stuff. It’s all about feeling good in your own body.”
The last fifteen minutes of the journey went by a little smoother, with the conversation naturally evolving into something lighter.
“Want to come in and grab those recipe books you lent me?” Jay asked as they parked up outside his building.
Thinking about another of his clients, Matt nodded keenly. It was more than obvious that Jay had little interest in any of the lean meals in them, so why not pass them on? He followed the guy up the stairs, allowing his brain to fantasise about taking the chubby guy straight into his bedroom. Now that he knew he would be home in twenty minutes and able to release all the pent-up sexual frustration from his evening with Jay, he somehow felt more able to embrace it; gazing with lust at those giant glutes, like round globes of fat, pressed tightly into Jay’s pants as he walked up the stairs ahead of him.
“They’ll be in my closet somewhere,” Jay explained, leading Matt into his bedroom. Inside here, the mess of take out containers continued, making it clear that Jay did just as much of his eating in bed, as he did anywhere else in the apartment. He reached over a pile of boxes and leaned into this closet, presenting Matt with a full view of his wide rear. Matt simply stared at it, swooning.
Jay had to lean in more and more, too lazy to move the boxed out of the way, and grunting from the effort. Matt told him not to worry; that he could get them some other time, but still Jay persevered, leaning even more of his weight onto the boxes at the front. Then, in a split second, they gave way underneath him, sending Jay falling head first into the closet, his legs up in the air.
Matt grabbed at him in a swift rescue, lifting him up and out by pulling him by his waistband and trying to reach his arm in to hold Jay just above his waist. He was a very heavy boy indeed, and not easy to shift, but eventually he came, looking significantly worse for wear. The most stressed buttons on his shirt had popped clean off and his pants had ripped as Matt had tried to pull him up from behind.
“Sorry about that,” Matt mumbled, seeing what a state Jay now looked in his torn clothes. He’d had to pull him at a strange angle to get him back upright and, although he hoped it wasn’t the case, there was a possibility that Jay might have felt the erection in his pants as he was put back on his feet.
Jay flattened his hair and shuffled over to his mirror. His fingers explored the ripped buttons and torn material. There was his little fat belly popping out like never before; his significant fat gains never looking more obvious. The hallmarks of actual obesity starting to shine through.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Matt asked, wondering why Jay was so stunned; his nervousness increasing by the second.
“If I asked you to stay tonight, would you?” Jay asked simply.
“Why do you want me to stay?” Matt asked. “Do you think you’ve hurt yourself?”
Jay did not answer, but simply unbuttoned only the remaining buttons of his shirt and let the material fall to the floor. “Stay,” he repeated, letting Matt’s gaze fall in its entirety upon his bloated, fattened body. “I can tell that you’d like to.”
Matt allowed himself to enjoy the sight. His fingers twitched at his side, desperate to explore and touch. “Do you mean that?” he asked, no longer hiding his interest.
Jay nodded, grabbing a wedge of his own fat. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only person who gets a boner over this stuff.”
Immediately, Matt pulled Jay into a deeply passionate kiss. Their hands began to explore each other and they soon fell, entirely naked onto the unmade bed. Finally, the fizzing sexual tension that had been torturing Matt all night was set free; the fireworks still to come.
Matt woke the next morning as the light began pouring in through Jay’s window. He turned, seeing the bloated boy still resting deeply. Despite his good looks, this wasn’t the sort of thing that Matt ever did. He could count on a single hand how many guys he had slept with in the past, and he could explain how each one of them had eventually ended up breaking his heart. 
Jay stirred as Matt made an attempt to get out of bed. “Morning,” he called out. “What a wild night, huh?”
Matt smiled. “Pretty wild, yeah!” he nodded.
“Did I do it okay?” Jay asked sweetly. “I’ve never tried to give a blow job before.”
“You did great!” Matt nodded. “Amazing, in fact,” he added, remembering how quickly they had both climaxed last night. He’d worked on Jay first and then the sweet guy worked his mouth on Matt until he came in less than a minute. 
“Could you go and get me my shake out of the refrigerator?” Jay asked next, sitting up. “I forgot to have my last one when we got back yesterday, so I’ll have to make up for it this morning. In fact, bring me two,” he reconsidered. “I’ll get it down now.”
Matt hesitated for a moment. He knew that, officially, as Jay’s trainer, he wasn't supposed to approve of these shakes. Still, he was in Jay’s apartment, having just spent the night, so he could hardly start lecturing him now.
Still in a state of undress, Matt slipped out of the room and tiptoed over the mess that was littering the living space. He opened the fridge and felt a pang of arousal as he remembered just how many Jay had prepared for himself.
“Thanks,” Jay smiled, getting back from the bathroom as Matt returned. “I can still feel that burger from last night,” he chuckled, rubbing the shelf of stomach fat, before taking a deep deep breath chugging one of the shakes.
Matt’s penis, which hadn’t been flaccid since the moment he woke up next to Jay, began to pump itself harder upon watching Jay drink. He found it embarrassing how quickly his arousal responded to stuff like this and he moved his hand to cover it up; not wanting Jay to see and realise what a freak he was. However, as he looked at the bedsheets, he could see that the same thing was happening to Jay as well, with his own hardness pushing the material upwards, throbbing up and down like a heartbeat.
Taking himself off to the bathroom, Matt calmed himself down. He was so into Jay, he couldn’t ruin it, like last time. When he returned, both shakes were emptied and Jay was up, checking his body out in the mirror; that old jock physique of his destroyed and replaced with the chubby, overfed form there was today. Gone was the youthful pertness of his glutes, now so wide and juicy. All the added fat had swollen his chest up so considerably, with his new, pointed nipples looking alert and sharp as they started to droop a little onto the broad, shockingly ball-like stomach that completely dominated the boy’s appearance.
Matt went over and kissed the chub sweetly, hoping that Jay wouldn’t feel differently now the morning had arrived. Afterwards, he took the guy’s hand and then gently led him back to bed; making love to him slowly and passionately this time; wanting to show Jay just how much he could adore and cherish him, if he would only give him the chance.
When Jay turned up for their training session the next day, there was an air of mischief about him. The pair of them were chuckling and smiling, knowing exactly what they had got up to at the weekend and excited to be in each other’s company again. Now when Matt had to touch him, supporting his arms in a certain way, or correcting his posture, it sent waves of pleasure through his entire body. If he tried to get tough with Jay to get him to build up a sweat, the guy would come back with something flirtatious or rude, making Matt laugh.
“What time do you finish tonight?” Jay asked after a particularly arousing session where Jay had actually done very little indeed.
“Ten,” Matt replied, wincing at how late it was going to be.
“That’s okay,” Jay smiled excitedly. “Want to stay over again?”
Matt looked around, trying to hold himself back from wanting to kiss Jay right there and then; the cutest, chubbiest guy currently at the gym that moment. He knew how unprofessional it was to be dating his client. In some ways, it was like playing with fire; both terrifying and thrilling. “Want me to bring anything over?” he asked politely, knowing how low Jay was getting on supplies like lubricant and condoms after the weekend.
“You could pick me up some doughnuts,” Jay happily agreed.
“Oh, right. Okay,” Matt mumbled in surprise. That hadn’t been what he had meant at all. “Any particular kind?” he offered, not wanting to spoil the mood by declining.
“Just the twelve pack that you can get at the late night convenience place at the end of my street,” Jay answered him, clearly wanting to kiss him goodbye, but knowing that he couldn’t here.
Slapping the twelve pack of doughnuts on the counter a while later, Matt couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. Here he was getting a spark of arousal at buying all this sugar and fat for his chubby lover. What would people say if they knew? He strolled over to Jay’s place and was buzzed in, finding the apartment door open as he made it up the stairs.
Seeing his chubby boy sprawled out on the couch, Matt took off his shirt and smiled, closing the door behind him before he marched straight over to kiss his new lover. Still dressed in his gym clothes, Jay’s stomach was falling out of his t-shirt as he twisted his head for the kiss. Two more empty flasks of shake sat on the floor beside the couch, alongside another pizza box that Jay must have picked up right after his workout.
Matt had slipped his hand onto Jay’s tummy as he went back for another kiss. How could he tell him off for his bad diet when he looked so adorable right now?
“Did you get my doughnuts?” Jay asked.
Matt nodded, getting up to collect them and feeling surprised at how eagerly Jay took them from him.
“Amazing! You got the cream filled ones!” Jay cheered, ripping the box open and pushing a doughnut straight in his mouth.
Matt hadn’t realised that there were different types, having just bought the first pack he’d found in the store, but he was pleased that it was giving Jay so much pleasure. He gazed with adoration as he ate, feeling himself falling hard for the guy. He sat there, on the floor, below the couch, rubbing Jay’s leg, observing it all. Doughnut number 5, 6 and 7 disappeared. Afterwards, Matt slipped in beside him, kissing his head from behind and holding the overfed boy tenderly. Whilst he couldn’t wait to sleep with Jay again, these tender moments were something he never wanted to rush.
“Did anyone notice that we were flirting at the gym? Jay asked as they lay tenderly together later on. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“That’s not something I want you to worry about,” Matt whispered into his ear. “I can handle any fallout if it comes to that.”
“I’ve actually wanted to quit weight training for quite some time. I just didn’t know how to tell you properly. Then our little relationship wouldn’t be so much of an issue.”
“So, we’re in a relationship, huh?” Matt teased, beaming with pride and hugging his boyfriend tightly from behind. “I don’t want you to give it up just for me, though,” he added regretfully.
“You’re the only reason I stuck it out so long,” Jay chuckled. “The truth is, I’m getting a lot more of a buzz out of developing my mass in ways that aren’t strength training related.”
Matt lifted his head as he lay in bed and looked down at the fat filled stomach on Jay; his hardness immediately throbbed into the guy’s doughy glutes. He wished he could control it; still wanting to conceal the fact that he found the idea of Jay becoming even more overweight so wildly erotic. He realised that as much as he would try to reason with Jay about his overeating and general laziness, his dick would always be there, trying to undermine his words of caution.
Although Jay didn’t acknowledge it with his words, he reached across for yet another doughnut, even though he had previously said he was stuffed. Was that for Matt’s benefit? Was he doing it to turn him on? Perhaps it was yet another unintended error of Matt’s that was dragging Jay even further down this crazy rabbit hole.
Jay’s gains began to speed up quite dramatically within the first six months of their relationship; Matt’s guilt increasing with every pound. There were times when he should have stepped in to stop Jay pushing his appetite too hard. When he discovered Jay buying in clothes for himself that were far too large, he could have asked why. He knew so much about nutrition and what it all was doing to Jay’s body, bloating it more and more beyond recognition. He’d crossed 300lbs. That should have been a moment for them both to take stock and reevaluate things; but the arousal of it all; the way Jay seemed to not care in the slightest about how people were seeing him these days; that confidence; the love that Matt felt for him. It all culminated to ensure the personal trainer kept quiet and allowed it to continue.
Jay’s body was stunning. There wasn’t a single spot where the fat hadn’t done its work, softening and swelling him up. With the lack of weight training, Jay’s chest had succumbed to the blubber, now filling up under his armpits and inflating his arms. All the while, his gut and wide butt quietly continued to grow ever more; becoming more extreme with each passing day. 
Matt couldn’t say not to Jay on his birthday. He’d asked him again and again what he wanted to do for it: a day trip, a weekend hotel stay, any gift he wanted. But all Jay had insisted on was a take-out meal in front of the TV.
“This ice cream is definitely the best,” Jay smiled, scooping out from the tub with his spoon. “I can’t believe you found some!”
“Well, you’re worth it,” Matt smiled. “I even found some of those special flavour doughnuts that you tried a few months ago. So you’ve got something to enjoy tomorrow as well.”
“Tomorrow?” Jay chuckled sceptically. “I’ll be having those bad boys tonight! It is my birthday after all!”
Matt laughed and nodded. There was no arguing with that logic.
“In fact,” Jay continued. “I’d like you to be the one to feed them to me.”
Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Matt pretended to spill his glass of water and made a fuss, grabbing a towel from the kitchen.
“Why do you always do that?” Jay asked, obviously downbeat. “You’ve got to know that I love the idea of you feeding me. We both clearly get off on how fat I’m getting. Everyone thinks you’re a feeder now. They saw you with your ex; they’ve seen me getting over 350lbs. You’ve heard them whispering it behind your back. So why won’t you ever feed me?”
Matt tried to brush the comments off. It wasn’t the right time; not on Jay’s birthday. However, his refusal to answer only seemed to make things worse. “Okay,” he finally surrendered. “I’m not being coy,” he admitted. “I… I just…” he stumbled. “It was when I was dating Chris.”
“The four hundred pound guy you were with before me?” Jay asked, with only a mild hint of jealousy.
“Chris and I didn’t meet at a club like I told everyone. We actually met on a kink website for feeders and gainers.” 
“How did I not know this?” Jay laughed, realising that his shy boyfriend had been holding out on him the entire time. “So you used to feed Chris to make him gain weight?”
Matt nodded. “It was great. It felt amazing. I fell ridiculously in love with the guy. He put on about 40lbs in the time we were together.”
“You dark horse!” Jay joked, barely containing his delight.
“But it just wrecked things in the end. We both wanted him bigger and fatter. We spoke about it endlessly. But when Chris was in a mood with me for something, he used to blame only me for making him fat. He said it was all my fault he was so unhappy. I spent so much of my time trying to make him smile and the second something pissed him off, he’d throw it all back in my face.”
“That’s not very nice,” Jay agreed, pleased to finally learn how Matt’s previous relationship had ended.
“Then there was one day when Chris’ car broke down. He came over in such a bad mood and started taking it all out on me. He ended up getting drunk and heading out with his friends. He made out to them all that I was fattening him secretly. He even messaged my parents to say the same thing.”
“Shit!” Jay cringed for him, now realising why Matt’s parents had never been especially warm with him.
“Chris apologised, of course. But it was too late. Fake news like that travels like wildfire. Even though I knew I was always going to be attracted to bigger guys, I always promised myself, I wouldn’t ever get caught up in a situation like that again. Not if it risked making someone as special as you so unhappy.”
Jay nodded, completely understanding. “It makes sense,” he nodded in agreement. “But you’re not to blame for how I’m turning out. I’m not Chris, and I never have been.”
“I get that, but..” Matt tried to counter.
“No, I mean it. I’ve wanted to be a fat boy for as long as I can remember. I felt so ashamed about it. I thought a muscle gain might quench that thirst, but it didn’t. There is no part of me that is doing this just for your pleasure,” he stated sincerely. “So stop with the guilt.”
Matt nodded, feeling that he had been thoroughly put in his place. This wasn’t all about him. This was Jay’s journey.
“But I think you also know how huge I want to get. I know you’ve spotted some of the clothes I’ve been buying recently,” Jay smiled.
“Yeah, those sweatpants you bought the other day…” Matt nodded knowingly. “They were something else!”
Jay beamed with pride. “Aren’t they just!” he chuckled. “So why don’t you tell me, seriously,” he insisted. “How do you really feel about me getting so fat that I could actually wear pants like that?”
Matt considered his answer, knowing how upfront and honest they were both trying to be that evening. “Excited,” he replied simply. “Really turned on by it.”
“So, would you be willing to help me with getting there?” Jay asked.
Matt knew what Jay was asking of him and he sighed at the hard choice he was having to make. “I really want to,” he admitted, rubbing Jay’s rounded gut and admiring the tight softness. “It’s been so difficult trying to hold myself back sometimes.”
“Then stop,” Jay shrugged. “You know that I’m doing this, with or without your help.”
The two men looked at each other with true honesty in their eyes. “Okay,” Matt smiled at last. “Okay, I’ll.. try.”
Jay beamed brightly and slouched his fat body into the tortured couch, placing his limp hands at his side and opening his mouth, waiting. “No time like the present. It is my birthday, after all!”
Matt, who had not been anticipating such an immediate start, fumbled slightly, not knowing what to do as he picked up a doughnut from the table. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked nervously.
Jay nodded, raising his eyebrows with excitement, but did not close his mouth as the doughnut was dangled so wonderfully close to his face.
With the doughnut in his hand, Matt pressed it into Jay’s greedy mouth. The boy moaned in appreciation and took as large a bite as he could. The sound was instantly arousing. Already he felt the sugar uncomfortably sticking to his fingers. By the time the third bite came along, he knew the remaining piece was too big, but pushed it into Jay’s mouth anyway; making the fat boy’s cheeks swell with fattening dough and sugar. Yet, still the glutton gorged, sucking the sugar off Matt’s fingers as soon as he possibly could. This was hot!
Jay’s hand reached towards the hunk’s crotch, feeling the arousal his part in the feeding had given him. Then he smirked gleefully. There was no hiding anything now as they both undressed entirely. “Feed me another,” he demanded.
Matt did as he was told, picking up more confidence with each fresh doughnut he pushed into the horny boy’s mouth. Seeing sugar glistening on the glutton’s cheeks, the arousal in his eyes; the pleasure he took from drawing this side of Matt out.
“Am I a good piggy?” Jay asked teasingly,sucking on Matt’s hardness as the doughnuts were all finished at last.
Moaning softly, feeling his dick getting sticky from the fat guy’s sugary saliva, Matt nodded in agreement. Had Jay really just referred to himself as a ‘piggy’?
“Say it then,” Jay demanded, letting his hand take over for the few seconds he needed his mouth to talk. “Tell me what a good, fattening pig I am.”
Matt’s brain was foggy with lust. He could tell that Jay was already holding back, not allowing him to climax just yet. “You’re a good piggy,” he heard himself saying, worrying that he could ejaculate the moment he felt the words leaving his mouth. “And I do want you get fatter,” he admitted. “I always have.”
“Prove it then,” Jay suddenly demanded, slipping his mouth and hands away from Matt’s hardness; cutting him off in an instant.
“How?” Matt asked, having been so close to finishing before this abrupt stop.
“The refrigerator,” Jay simply replied; smirking in triumph.
Matt knew in an instant what he needed to do. He headed straight over and collected Jay’s calorie shake from the cool refrigerator and held it in his hands, about to become the world’s biggest hypocrite after everything he had said about these things.
“What do you want me to do?” asked a super horny birthday boy, laying back again and letting the fat splay into the seat once more.
“I want you to drink it,” Matt replied, already unscrewing the lid.
“What’s it going to do to me?” Jay whispered next, savouring the kinky moment between them both.
“It’s going to make you fatter,” Matt smiled back, so happy to be drawn into the game; so happy that he was doing this at last.
Matt stepped closer to the fat boy and then sat beside him, using his free hand to jiggle the immense softness that had enveloped Jay’s torso, whilst kissing him deeply. Then, just as Jay was really getting into it, he lifted his free hand up and gently rocked the boy’s head backwards so that his mouth pointed towards the ceiling, in position for the pouring.
“Are you ready, Piggy?” Matt asked, finally unleashing his true self. “It’s time to grow for me…”
Jay’s eyes were dancing with excitement as they drifted from his feeder’s gaze and up towards the ominously held jug of calorie shake looming above his head. Then, just like that, his mouth opened wider than Matt had ever seen it go before.
Matt couldn’t put his finger on when exactly he came, but he knew he hadn’t been done pouring. His fat boy had slipped his pudgy, sweaty hand onto his hardness and tugged at it; pushed it right into his giant, jiggling stomach, until Matt could stand it no longer. His orgasm had been years in the making and he moaned louder than any of his former lovers had ever heard him.
A new beast had just been unleashed.
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theminecraftbee · 4 months
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i'm still thinking about the fae zedaph prompt so much that i have. an entire au in my head now. that i am now sharing, in case others are interested.
so the setting of the au is an intentionally kind of anachronistic blend of sci-fi and fantasy, and those things often come into conflict, with a lot of magic interacting badly with technology and technology interacting badly with magic. a vaguely earth-like setting from the near future, where there are robots and space travel and cybernetics, but ALSO a vaguely earth-like setting where there are portals you can slip through that will drop you into the feywild and there are magcial creatures lurking beneath the surface. the idea is like, if an urban fantasy had the 'urban' part set in a sci-fi world.
anyway, so zedaph is an ancient fey creature. a wild fey no longer really associated with either court, but at one point having belonged to the seelie court, zedaph mainly just courts chaos. he's PROBABLY some kind of archfey, but it's worth noting that even other fey aren't fully certain what zedaph is supposed to be at this point. see, in a move that makes almost no sense to a human, zedaph has started to get bored of the games of fair folk. he finds them too... predictable! and sure, to HUMANS the fair folk can seem chaotic and without rules, but to zedaph? he wants something NEW AND EXCITING.
too bad that these days, even if he IS invited into the human realm, it is a bit dangerous to navigate for a fey such as himself. his own deep connection to nature and the natural world makes it so he has some trouble when he's in the tall metal cities of the human realm.
enter: tango.
tango is an android built for... some purpose. he's not really sure what his purpose is, or if he still has one, which is kind of distressing, because his creator either died or abandoned him before tango was turned on. he likes building zany contraptions, sure, but he also sort of wants to search for SOME kind of meaning in his life, since androids aren't really built to be purposeless and that lack of purpose is starting to wear at him. and in another setting, this is a great start to a cyberpunk story about what it means to be human, but in THIS setting, tango accidentally proves he must be developing a soul when he stumbles through a portal to the feywild by accident and fails to find his own way out.
the good news for tango is also the bad news: he's not built for a natural place like the feywild. see, his creator had made him largely out of cold iron, and that, even more than any specific technology, repels fair folk magic. so the good news is that he is largely immune to fey shenanigans! the bad news is that the feywild itself is rejecting him, putting him in immense danger.
enter: zedaph, who is FASCINATED to discover that these days the humans are making machines with souls. zedaph, eager to discover something new, makes a bargain with tango: tango guides him in the human world so zedaph doesn't die of metal poisoning, and in return, zedaph guides tango whenever he stumbles into a dangerous supernatural hotspot. look, zedaph's even making a fair deal and everything, since he can't just like, steal tango's name and force him to, on account of not even tango knowing what his true name would be! the two of them shake on it, and as such, a bargain is struck between both android and archfey.
they both find each other surreal and baffling but are ALSO each other's best friends in an equally baffling and surreal world.
impulse comes into this story later--after whatever the first few adventures tango and zedaph have are, exploring both realms together to try to find something new and exciting for zedaph and something to give tango purpose, the amount of magic tango's being exposed to finally takes its toll, and tango starts to malfunction. zedaph panics as he realizes all at once that he has a friend (thing he didn't know he even could get?) and that friend is in danger. also, uh, more importantly that deal. right. that.
naturally, he then kidnaps the first software engineer he can find. this is a proportionate response, right?
luckily the first software engineer he finds is impulse, and impulse is hardly like, normal, either. like, yes, he's a fully mundane human with only the world's most minor cybernetics, he's normal that way, the way he's not normal is that he gets kidnapped by a terrifying and awesome fey to fix a paradoxical android and goes "this is so cool. hi my name is impulse it's nice to meet you! aw, geez," and acts like everything is normal. neither tango nor zedaph are quite good enough at the idea of 'normal human' to dispute this, and a friendship is then born.
impulse serves as the fixer for a lot of their problems that neither tango nor zedaph are equipped to handle, but he's also like, he'd theoretically be the everyman if he wasn't busy going "every man gets whisked away by the plot of a philosophy major's dream every once and a while right" and going with the flow on things NO SANE PERSON SHOULD GO WITH THE FLOW WITH. he's just chilling in the world's least "just chilling" scenario.
so... there you go there's the ENTIRE TEAM ZIT AU that my brain spawned from the prompt "fey zedaph" i hope you enjoy,
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fatuismooches · 4 months
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omg i just read a bunch of your work and it’s all so good???? it’s so rare to find imagines fanfic writers that are so clearly passionate about their work and it’s so awesome anyways i have a request !! i absolutely love your frail reader stuff… my health is kinda shit too so it’s really nice to read !! could i ask for dottore trying to attach an IV or help them but they’re scared of needles? dottore realizing they’re not scared of *him* but of just . the needle . and also being really really sweet and gentle while checking everything like vitals and whatnot since being checked up by a doctor puts them on edge usually . BASICALLY i’d looove to see dottore being sweet while working with a patient as opposed to . how he usually is 😭
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Dottore is a man who finds himself fascinated by many things. Most obviously, his research. His experiments. The limits of a human being, the stars of this world, the truth of Teyvat. How far he could push himself and others to satiate his curiosity. 
And last but certainly not least, you, his darling.
…Who was now huddled in the corner of his lab, refusing to move. Why? Because it was time for you to receive your first shot. You had only recently woken up from sleeping for four hundred years, so he stuck to other forms of medicine rather than needles in the beginning. But it had gotten to the point where needle injections were necessary for your health. However, you certainly didn’t find this new information pleasing. 
You’d peek out, see him with that large pointy grin with a needle in hand, and then try to inch even closer to the wall as if you were trying to disappear into it as you whimpered. Now, Dottore finds you predictable and unpredictable at the same time. Predictable because being with you for centuries has certainly allowed his mind to adapt and memorize all of your little quirks and possible reactions. Unpredictable because there are always times he finds himself surprised and then mildly exasperated at your behavior. But that’s what he likes about you. You’re not a boring doll like his other test subjects.
But this reaction… once again, he supposes he expected it but he didn’t at the same time. Funnily enough, Dottore is no stranger to your little tantrums when it comes to taking care of your health. Some kind of bizarre reaction from you wasn’t out of the question because he remembers the first time you ran away from taking your medicine.
When you realized your life would consist of daily checkups, your body constantly being hooked up to a lot of different things you really didn’t understand, and a whole bunch of other changes, you thought you could do it. You really did. Sure, it wasn’t easy, and it was scary and confusing and you cried at how different you were now but, you were getting through every day and that was what mattered.
However, ironically, your greatest enemy in life became medicine.
You should be grateful really, to have Dottore as your doctor. Although he certainly wasn’t a doctor to his other “patients”, he most definitely was to you. And he was a terrific one - attentive beyond human capability (not even including his segments), skilled, knowledgeable, adaptable, and attractive was also a good bonus. Hell, if it were anyone else besides him, you’d long be dead.
But one thing you absolutely despise is his talent for making the hardest-to-swallow medicine known to mankind.
Dottore had given you lots of different types of medicine since you woke up, experimenting with which was the most efficient. Although he did study how other bodies reacted to it before it entered your own system, it really didn’t spare you any pain because you always ended up dreading it. It wasn’t fun, no, but you had accepted it as your routine. 
Pills weren’t fun, but at least they were a quick swallow after you finished hyping yourself up to drink it. And, they were small or medium-sized. No biggie, right? But then came one time when you were utterly tricked. When Dottore presented you with medicine that you could drink easily rather than a pill, you were ecstatic.  
The syrup medicine was a nice color and looked like it would taste fine! But no, you should have known that the Doctor was a deceiving son of a- you get the point. The medicine tasted absolutely horrible, violating your taste buds. You would have spat it out, but it was already almost down your throat. You were genuinely thankful that medicine ended up being unhelpful to you because you don’t think you could have managed to swallow that every day.
Despite how every time you moaned and whined about it, you would steel yourself and take it anyway because you didn’t want to make Dottore’s life any harder, with how diligently he was working on these medicines solely for your sake.
But at one point, you just couldn’t take it anymore. What caused you to snap?
A pill that Dottore presented to you, that looked big even on his large hand. He had looked at you expectantly, while you looked at him incredulously, as your lover then placed it in your hand and set the glass of water to the side for you.
Okay [Name], you’ve endured all these trials so far. Surely you can handle this? You took a deep breath, slowly working up the courage to swallow it as Dottore waited, curiously looking at you. With a burst of energy, you brought it to your mouth, intent on gulping it, but stopped last minute. Your bravery had left you, as you brought the pill back to the table again. There was no way, just no way that was going in your throat without getting stuck. Just the thought of it was making you feel sick and anxious.
“I’m not doing it.” Dottore sighed.
“We’ve been through this countless times, [Name],” he shook his head as he walked to his desk, prepared to gather some things to work on because he was familiar with your agonizing long waits of trying to force yourself to drink your medicine. “Either you take it yourself, or I will be more than happy to help you myself.” The methods Dottore takes to “help” you take your medicine can be left up to the imagination.
“You won’t need to help me… because I’m not drinking that!” In a flash, you had bolted out the door, leaving the doctor alone in the room, blinking and processing what just happened before he rubbed his temples. Never, not once have you run away from taking medicine. Yes, you whined and begged him to let you skip it, just for one day (which he never indulged you in) but in the end, you’d always give in to your fate. Dottore walked over and picked up the pill, examining it. Was it really that bad?
Well, no matter. You’ll end up taking it anyway. His harshness comes from a good place at least, it is for your own sake after all.
Although you did put up a good fight, you never really had any chance of escaping in the first place, considering your rather poor health and stamina (and this is Dottore after all, no one gets away from him). But you just needed to put off that blasted medicine for a while longer, which was why you found yourself in your current situation.
In a stand-off with Omega, who had come to collect you and bring you back to Prime’s office, so you could finally take the pill. Beta was there too, as he was supposed to be helping, but he looked to be amused by the whole thing. Pointy teeth showed through as he watched the whole show, hands in his pockets. 
The “show” in question was how you were hiding behind a random Fatui agent, using the poor man as a shield, his soul definitely having left his body by now. Every time the segment tried to come closer, you’d physically move the agent’s body to block him from you. And well, even they couldn’t just kill the man like that. It would be quite funny, were it not for the fact that Omega was beginning to grow impatient and mildly annoyed that the other Fatuis were watching this go down. Not to mention the back and forth you two were having about how important it was for you to take the pill, versus your numerous arguments as to why you weren’t. Beta was just there cackling at the older segment’s predicament. But then all of a sudden, Omega backed off with a smile, giving you a chance to escape once again. Yes, you turned around, ready to dash for it, and then ran right into a solid wall.
There Prime Dottore stood, looking down at you with an unamused expression, at this little cat and mouse game. He didn’t really want to show this level of affection to you in front of the other agents, but he had no choice but to grab you and pick you up in his arms so you couldn’t run away anymore.
The other Fatuis could only stare at the scene, you kicking and flailing your arms, vehemently repeating how you weren’t going to drink that blasted thing, and about how evil and cruel he was. Eventually, he was able to make you swallow the pill, with the help of his other segments holding you down.
In the end, he had to ditch that pill because the struggle and tears you put up after that just weren’t worth it when there were better alternatives.
However, at least this time you didn’t run away. Instead, perhaps you thought holing up miserably in the corner would somehow make him sympathize with you and that he wouldn’t give you the needle. Unfortunately, you were incorrect. Dottore’s patients are to receive whatever treatment he deems necessary, even if it is you. Nevertheless, you are indeed a special patient. A special patient who receives special treatment, both medically and emotionally. So, it does make him feel a tiny bit sorry for you, seeing how scared you were. 
Though a part of him wonders, are you truly that afraid of a mere needle? Perhaps because he works with it every day, he cannot see how it could cause that much nervousness. Was it because of how he used it on others? Of course, you were no stranger to his less-than-ethical experiments on other people. But surely you knew that you wouldn’t be subjected to such conduct? Dottore ponders for a little while as you continue to crouch in fear. He wonders if he taught Zandy how to use the needle if that would make it less scary for you. But on second thought, you would probably get mad at him for trying to do that to his child segment.
But regardless of what either of you thought, you were getting that injection.
“[Name],” For once, his voice isn’t the normal tone that he takes on when you’re being difficult. So you lift your head and your eyes peek out from your knees as you pout at him. Dottore had set the needle to the side and walked closer to you, reaching his hand out to you, expecting you to get up and take it. With a sigh, you acquiesce and clasp your hand with his as he pulls you from the ground. Though you keep your eyes on the floor and your shoulders drooped, because you know that your fate is imminent. But Dottore tilts your chin so you’re forced to look up at him anyway.
“Why are you so insistent on acting like this?” Your partner questions.
“Because needles are scary,” you whine.
“But I am the one administering it. Nothing will happen.”
“Well, obviously I trust you,” you sigh in defeat. “I know you’d never hurt me. But that doesn’t make needles any less scary. And no matter what you say, I know I’ll still feel that prick of pain! I really don’t want it, Zandik!” You look up at him with pleading eyes. His fingers stroking your hair feels nice but it does little to relieve you of your anxiety. At that, Dottore merely stares for a few seconds before he pulls you to the operating table and helps you up. Well, at least you attempted to change his mind, you thought as you resigned yourself to the pain. You squeeze your eyes and tense your body, preparing for the inevitable prick, but instead, you feel hands slipping down your shirt and cool metal being pressed against your chest. Your eyes pop open as you turn to narrow your eyebrows at Dottore.
“What about the needle?”
“Forget about it. I will handle it another day,” Dottore waves off your concern, and all the stiffness in your body releases. Oh, you were so, so grateful. 
“Now breathe in for me,” Dottore requested. “And out. In. Out.” You did what he asked and he hummed as he recorded your heart rate or whatever he usually does, before moving to your back and repeating the same process. You liked how his hands felt on your body. They weren’t rough, uncharacteristically gentle even. Even though right now it was just professional procedures, it felt comforting. His hands always felt comforting.
Now that you think about it, although it sounds entirely untrue, Dottore was… the only doctor you had good experiences with. When you were a kid, you really didn’t like them. They usually… put you on edge. Unlike most children, the promise of candy did little to stop you from getting antsy during a check-up, and even the nicest doctors had their patience tested. But Dottore and the segments, well, despite their… tendencies, they did make you feel a lot better with your condition and all. It was really nice, to have people who wouldn’t give up on you or your health since you’ve been given up on in the past.
“I’ve heard that Alpha has been showing you the collection of Khaenri’ahn machines lately,” Dottore’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was fiddling with the variety of tools he used for the check-up.
“Hm? Oh yeah, we have!” Dottore moved to examine both ears as you spoke. “I mean, studying Teyvat’s new language all the time gets so boring. So I just make him show me the cool stuff during breaks!” Although Zandik’s fascination with the machines was much greater than yours in the Akademiya, his enthusiasm had rubbed off on you too and you found yourself intrigued as well. One thing that had never changed though, was his habit of dumping all his thoughts on you. Seriously, once you got Alpha talking, he wouldn’t stop until every detail of his research had been covered. It was cute. It reminded you of how Zandik used to do the same thing late at night.
“Is that so?” Dottore had moved to check your eye, shining the light at it.
“Mhm! You know, seeing all the things you know now, makes me think back to how much you searched for answers all those years ago. Pushing and pulling me all those places,” you smiled, thinking about how you were always dragged to all parts of Sumeru for him to quench his thirst by hopefully obtaining fruitful results from the expeditions. It was tiring, but good times. You wished you could go back. Dottore then tapped your lips and you opened your mouth as he briefly examined it before returning to his clipboard. For some reason, you feel as though this check-up is dragging on a lot more than usual, but you didn’t really question it because why would you question spending more time with your beloved?
“Yes, and you never failed to complain, did you? You grumbled more than you spoke about the data,” Dottore replied as he continued to do whatever other tests on you before he pulled up your sleeve to wrap the cuff around your arm to check your blood pressure. You rolled your eyes.
“You’re lying! I always engaged in conversation with our research,” you stuck your tongue out at him. “I always pulled my weight! Maybe you were too busy mumbling to yourself and spilling ink everywhere instead of listening to me.” Zandik had a habit of that. Getting too lost in his thoughts and leaving you to babble like an idiot when he wasn’t even paying attention. Dottore only chuckled as he continued to work, pumping the device. You didn’t even notice that he was also preparing a needle with his other hand, because you continued to ramble on.
“And you know what, you were always far worse. In the beginning, you were either talking about research all the time, or complaining about others, or complaining about me.” Just because Dottore was all suave and smooth and poised now didn’t mean you forgot about how much he was not anything of those things back then! The more you reminisced about it, the memories of being slightly infuriated by his attitude came rushing back. So much so that you didn’t register the cuff being swiftly removed from your arm, nor the feeling of Dottore adjusting your arm and the prick of something being injected into you. 
“And!! Pantalone always tells me how much you complain to him about not only the budget but also a wide variety of things! And Bina too, I’ve heard numerous stories of those poor agents falling victim to you, hmph,” you awaited a response but Dottore didn’t humor you like he usually did. So you turned to look at him, but instead, he was carefully placing a bandage on you. You blinked once at the sight, then at him, and then at the empty needle on the tray, the contents empty. It didn’t take long for your brain to process what happened.
“You… you tricked me! You said I wasn’t going to get the needle!” You fussed but Dottore only smirked, his sharp shark-like teeth on display.
“Yes, I did. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Did you feel any pain?”
“Well…” He was right, you didn’t feel a thing. With all the conversation and his quick yet efficient fingers, the needle didn’t hurt. Ugh, so that was Dottore’s plan… getting you all riled up and distracted so he could finish the job. It was sneaky… but as you tenderly brushed the injection site that was a little sore, you were oddly touched… it was sweet. He didn’t need to go out of his way to do this. Really, another large pill situation could have happened.
“No, you didn’t,” Dottore finished the sentence for you before rolling down your sleeve and cleaning up the area. “There was no need for such drama in the first place. I told you that it would be fine.” You pouted at his bluntness. It was a bit mean, but he lived up to his word. You should have expected that. He always does, when it comes to you. “You have to stay here for a bit. I need to see if the shot will have any immediate adverse effects on you.”
“O-Okay,” you replied, still a bit dazed by how Dottore managed to do that. You wondered, just… how quick were his hands?? Then he placed a kiss on your lips, catching you off guard once again, but he pulled away before you could reciprocate. Ah, it was probably his way of saying ‘well done.’
“H-Hey, don’t just walk away! I deserve more kisses for the ordeal I just went through! Come back here!”
Dottore ended up giving you lots of kisses everywhere as he pinned you down on the operating table. If all check-ups ended like this one did, well, you’d look forward to them a lot more…
Bonus:
“Dottore?”
“Yes, [Name]?”
“Can you make them… gummy?”
“Make what gummy?” A few seconds of staring at you makes it click in his head. “No.”
“Please!!” Immediately you pull out your best pleading eyes with a pouting lip, having no shame in dropping to your knees and wrapping your arm around his leg in the tightest grip you could muster. “Please, if it were gummies instead of actual pills or needles, I’d never complain!” Dottore sighs, trying to shake you off but to no avail. It seems you’re dead set on this. 
“At least some of them, please, I’ll do anything.” By this point, your face is buried into his leg, all but begging for him to make medicine that is gummy. It was so ridiculous it would make him laugh, but the idea of him and his segments having to not go through the unthinkable in order for you to take your medicine is honestly quite appealing to the doctor.
“Alright,” he complies, which causes you to shoot up from the ground and grasp his hands with glee. “I will experiment to see what I can do.” You smile widely before thanking him profusely and kissing his cheeks and then his lips. Although he enjoys your affection, Dottore finds himself wondering if you’re okay yourself, because who gets this excited over gummies for medicine? And then he hears your next question.
“Can you make them different flavors too? And oh, gummy bear-shaped too! By the way, my favorite flavor is-”
“[Name].”
“I’m sorry.”
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ophelieverse · 1 month
Note
Oppy my baby,can you please please please take in consideration to write something about my man Cregan Stark?🥺🥺
⊹˚₊only you could have called me back home
Cregan Stark x fem!reader
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-Summary:reader is from house Manderly and she meets Cregan when they are kids,during his stay at her house she reads him a book about mermaids to help him sleep during a storm.Years later he does the same thing for their children.
-I finally gave in and decided to try.This is the first time that I write for Cregan,even though i love him very much and i can’t wait to see him(I pictured in my mind Tom Taylor)so forgive me if this sucks.
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It was night,late evening.
The sky,which was usually a dark blue,was covered by a thick blanket of gray clouds that made the stars and that moon disappear,which were supposed to illuminate New Castle of White Harbor.The blue blazon with the green merman holding a trident,symbolizing House Manderly,was dancing in the wind.
A little girl,who seemed to be not older than eight years old,was observing the world and that summer storm,one of many she had seen in just a month.Sitting in her chamber,on the carpet in front of the window that brought into that small balcony,curled up and with her arms hugging her legs,she let her eyes get lost in counting the thousands of droplets that rested on that sheet of glass.
She began to stare at a drop of rain,trying to see it flow along the entire length of the window.But this one soon disappeared,bursting into smaller droplets or joining others.
For Lady Y/n Manderly,the rain made everything so fascinating.
She came closer to the glass,almost squashing her face against the door-windows and waiting for a thunder to arrive.She had never been afraid of thunderstorms,quite the contrary.She found them fascinating.She still couldn't conceive that all that noise and lights came from nature and not from something created by men.
Watching a thunderstorm was more interesting than reading a book.Her mother used to read her dozen of them to help her sleep at night,especially during storms like this one.But at the end,the books in their library all looked alike and never change final.If she didn't want to read them anymore she could just close them.While thunderstorms are unexpected and uncontrollable.But above all,always different.
People can never predict the duration or intensity of a thunderstorm.You can just try to guess or stay and observe it.And Y/n loved to see thunderstorms.
But that wasn't the case for everyone.
The little girl knew for sure that there was someone who instead hated them and had a big fear of them.A young boy,just of two years older than she was,the son of the protector of the North,had revealed that he was very afraid of storms during one.
Lord Rickon Stark had arrived to White Harbor four nights before,just in time for dinner,to discuss with Lord Desmond Manderly,Y/n father,about the union of their houses.A calm but still noisy storm was what welcomed them,alongside the blue and green blazon of New Castle.
Y/n didn't understand what was scary about those lights and noises,but she couldn't help but think about what the boy was feeling at the time.
That boy who was also her husband to be once they would be old enough to marry.They already knew each other,they had met in different occasions and places,yet they had never forged a particular bond or friendship.
Their characters were particularly different and they both knew that they would find themselves colliding easily if they became friends.Moreover, there had never been a particular opportunity to get to know each other better.They were always surrounded by their families,politicians and maidens.
They were simply two children,two heirs of big and powerful houses and one day they will become husband and wife.Nothing more,nothing less.
And yet,at that moment Y/n was just thinking.She was just thinking about Cregan.That was his name and what he had told her to call him when she had addressed him as “Lord Stark” with a polite bow.
Y/n wondered if he wasn't scared.
She remembered once,when there was a tournament in Lannisport,he didn’t showed up to see the horses in the morning when it started to rain.Once again,during a visit a the Wall he had been more restless than usual when he had heard the sound of the thunders.
But didn't the dark sky of the evening emphasize the whole thing even more?
Y/n loved night thunderstorms,she found them even more impressive.But also scary.Especially now that her mother was heavily pregnant and needed to stay in bed to rest,meaning that she couldn’t read her stories to help her sleep better.
In Y/n that fear gave a sudden adrenaline rush,but in Cregan no,she could have said it with certainty.So,after thinking about it for too long,the little girl got up,took the cloak on the chair and without even thinking anymore,she opened the window-door wide and within seconds she found herself on the balcony,while the rain was beginning to increase slowly.
That wing of the castle was where both Y/n and her brothers chambers were,the same place where young Cregan was staying,in the room right next to hers.
Y/n stayed for a while to observe the sky,and the drops of rainwater falling on the palm of her hand that she had turned upwards,fascinated by everything as a child could be.But she hadn't gone out to the balcony to admire all that,no.
If she had only wanted to do that,she would have been content to sit in front of the front door-windows as she had until then,instead of getting wet.
No,Y/n had gone out to check on Cregan.To make sure that he was alright.
Their balconies were connected,divided only by a low wall of light bricks.She had often seen the young boy on that balcony in those days,watching people occupying those crowded streets or just wanting to breathe some air.
And on those occasions they had just waved to each other politely with kind smiles.
Y/n knew that the window on that balcony led to the room where Cregan was staying.
Still in the rain,half protected by the windowsill of the upper floor,she barely reached out her neck to observe the young boy room.But it was dark and the curtains were pulled,a sign that Cregan was probably already sleeping,as he would on any night.
The little Lady wanted to call herself a fool for coming out of her room just to make sure that he was okay,a boy whose she exchanged a few words and nothing else.The same boy that one day would have been her husband but the she didn’t knew nothing about.
Yet,in some way,she was relieved.Relieved that he was not awake yet and afraid of those thunders.
A part of Y/n wanted to go back into her room and go back admiring that storm from behind the glass plate of the window,but first she got closer to the wall that separated her from her neighbor.
To,she said to herself,just to check more closely.Just to make sure.
But check what exactly?
Y/n shook her head.She really had to be out of her mind if now she was worried about an almost - stranger that seemed to not like her at all.She made to retrace her steps,when a curled figure caught her attention.
Sitting on the ground,with his shoulders leaning against the wall of that balcony and with a black cloak on him,he stood with his head hidden by the hood.Still like a statue,with his arms around his legs.Half of his body was protected under the windowsill,while the other half was being wet by that rainwater.
Y/n tilted her head to the side,confused.
“Who is that?And what are they doing?”she wondered.
Even though she knew very well who it was.It couldn't be anyone other than him.
«Cregan?»Y/n spoke without having the slightest control over her voice,attracting the attention of the boy.
Cregan raised his head,which he had kept sunk between his legs until that moment,turning his head then towards the young lady on the other side of the wall.His eyes were usually clear and calm,but now they were wide open with astonishment.
Wide in a way that Y/n couldn't but find adorable.
She ignored these thoughts and just reopened her mouth«What are you doing out here?Don't you see .. ?It's raining.»she asked with a soft tone.
“As if i hadn't noticed,Y/n”Cregan wanted to tell her with a little voice.He wouldn't have put on his cloak if he hadn't seen the rain.
But a part of him decided to keep his mouth closed.Lady Y/n was immensely pretty under the pale moonlight and wet by the rain.He had always been fascinated by her,by the way her eyes shined bright and the way she talked fast about something she liked and knew about.She made him nervous to speak whenever he was around her,she was far smarter and wiser than him even at that young age,always so kind and he was afraid to make a fool out of himself.Especially when he was still scared of thunderstorms.
Cregan didn't answer,just staring at her with his big blue eyes.
«Are you hurt?»Y/n brown furrow as she scanned his pale face to find something.
The rain kept falling and it seemed that its intensity continued to increase as the seconds passed.The trees in front of that castle moved to the right and left,driven by a force they already knew,but which they were still unable to repel.
Cregan shook his head and then spoke«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he just said.
Y/n nodded«I know that.But why are you outside?»she offered him a kind smile.
Cregan seemed to think about it for a while, undecided whether to say everything to her or keep shut up.But there was something in her,something that was pulling in from the inside.Something that was screaming at him to tell her everything that he was afraid of,because with her it would be safe,she would have kept him safe.She would’ve understood him and comforted him.
He chose the second option and returned to stare at an indefinite point of his cloak,hoping that the young lady with wet hair and sweet eyes would soon leave,leaving him alone.As he had only been until recently.
One day Cregan would have been Lord Stark,protector of the great North and he needed to learn to not be afraid of thunderstorms on his own.But Y/n presence,the little girl that would become his wife,was louder than any thunder and brighter than any light.
In fact she had no intention of leaving.
«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he found himself repeating and then adding«I really can't stand them.»he murmured.
She listened to him carefully,standing in front of that little wall,while Cregan continued to turn his back on her and look down as he spoke again:
«I can't sleep when there are thunderstorms.And being alone in the room,in the dark with only sudden flashes to illuminate,is scary.»he explained quietly.
Y/n nodded sympathetically,although she didn't find anything scary at all in his description.But for once she tried to put herself on Cregan side.
«So why don't you go to your father?My mother always makes me sleep with her when I have nightmares.»she asked with curiosity.
Cregan shook his head,clutching in that heavy cloak«He doesn’t want to.He say I have to overcome my fears sooner or later.»he said,with a glint of sadness in his eyes.
Y/n curled her nose,confused«And do you get over them by standing in the rain?»squeezing her hands to create a little bit of warmth.
This time he took some time to respond.
Then,shifting his gaze towards the horizon«It's less scary.I can see the lights of the villages and the boats passing by and I know I'm not the only one awake.I know I'm not alone.»he found himself admitting«It's less scary.Or at least I think…»
He didn't know why he was saying these things.Especially to her.For all his ten almost eleven years he had carried that fear of his with him without saying anything to anyone.Revealing his fear only to himself.And seeking comfort only in him.
A comfort that most of the time was not enough.
His father kept telling him that he was grown up by now,that he had to overcome his fear of thunderstorms by now.A fear that was too childish for his age.For the Lord he was destined to be.How could he protect people when he was the first to be scared?He needed to start acting like a man.
But how adult can a ten year old be?
Without meditating on his words,Y/n replied«And are you going to stay out here all night?Until the thunderstorm stops?»her angel face was worried.
Cregan just nodded,without staring at her directly in the eyes.The little girl made a grimace that the other could not see.It was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.Yet she still didn't find the strength to leave him alone.Leave him there alone and go back to her room.
Y/n had felt,she had felt for a few seconds,almost a perceptible thread that drew her to Cregan.Maybe she was just imagining everything. Maybe it was just her childish mind that was playing tricks on her.Or maybe it was just that summer storm fault.
She didn't know,but now she felt tied to the boy with the dark cloak and blue eyes.
«Come.»Y/n voice was firm and warm.
Cregan jolted,surprised to still hear the young girl voice.He thought she had returned to the heat of her room by now.And instead there she is,on the other side of the low wall,reaching out to him with a pure smile on her face.
“She’s cute when she smiles.”Cregan immediately thought,noticing her soft eyes and all her teeth shining in the light of the torches in the street.
He also found her so reassuring.That kind of safety that he desperately needed.
«Where?»he asked confused.
Y/n smiled at him again,getting closer and reaching out her hand again,almost touching his face making him shiver.
«If you spend the night out here you're going to get sick.If you don't want to be alone,I'll keep you company.»she stated fiercely and he knew nothing would’ve changed her mind.
They were simple words.Words of a child of eight,almost nine,years old.Yet Cregan swore he had never heard such beautiful words.No one had ever given him such attention and didn't know whether or not to trust that young lady.
They had met numerous times and now they were even betrothed to each other,but they weren’t exactly friends.
And Cregan was very skeptical to those he knew very little.Especially the ones that made him feel nervous just by looking at him.
He decided to refuse Y/n invitation.
But when he made to decline the offer,the first of many flashes lit up the sky,followed by a noise so loud that raised Cregan hair,or more commonly called thunder.
The boy snapped to his feet in fear.Perhaps the idea of going out,so as not to stay in the dark of his room,had not been the best.Or maybe it was the worst idea that had ever occurred to him and only now did he find it stupid.
«So?Are you coming or not?»Y/n called for his attention again,noting the thin veil of blush on his pale cheeks.
She was younger than him by only two years,yet she was still more mature than him.She had this aura surrounding her,of someone that would have took care of him.Someone he could really start to trust and lay down his strength.A little sun,personal and only for him,to remind him that the storms he was so afraid of were only temporary while she would have been by his side forever.
Cregan found himself shaking Y/n hand,who helped him climb over the wall that divided them, and in a moment he was on the other balcony.
He crossed his eyes again with those of his future wife,who immediately answered him with another sweet smile and opened the window door,to let him enter in the warmth of her room and protect him from that storm.
Immediately closed the door behind them and,after a moment of uncertainty she spoke first«Give me your cloak,i’ll put it here with mine so that tomorrow the servants can wash them.»she told him,taking her off to remain in her pink nightgown.
Cregan blushed even more as he nodded as if in a trance and took off his dark cloak,handing it over to her and revealing a pastel-colored pajamas.
He thought it was impossible for a room to look like it owner,but Y/n bedroom was just like her:a mess of colors,books everywhere and with a pleasant warmth that made him feel safe.
«Why are you still awake?»Cregan suddenly asked,trying to not move around too much.
The little girl took two pillows from her bed and a blanket,walking to the fluffy carpet in front of the old fireplace that the servants had lighted up before she went to bed,once the thunderstorm had started.
«I like to watch the storms.»she said,patting the empty space next to her with one hand«Also,now that my mother is pregnant and my father stays up with his advisors,i need to check on her.»she continues.
Cregan looked at her carefully,the long hair falling free on her shoulders,her perfect face.He was right,she so much mature than he was,already taking care of everyone around her at such a young age,just like a proper lady should.
As he took place next to her on the pavement,still keeping a proper distance between them,Cregan realized that he didn't know anything about her.But he knew how much she loved her mother as he always saw the two of them holding hands.He didn't know if she had the same relationship with her father,who seemed to prefer her older brothers,but he still didn't have enough closeness to ask her for more information.
In fact,they had absolutely no closeness and it could be seen in the silence that fell between the two children.One of those silences that always arise in similar situations,when two people don't know each other but have to spend time together.
«Would you like to do something?»Y/n calm voice sounded even more melodious up close.
She tried to mask that awkwardness with a polite tone,asking her guest with a kind expression.
Cregan spoke little and for the rest of the time he just agreed or disagreed on a certain statement.
The younger of the two was shrinking her minds to think of some kind of game to play together, but the boy next to her would just stare at her,frowning,as if he was annoyed by that situation,while standing close to window of that room like he wanted to escape that situation.
Y/n curled her nose,bored by that sudden superior attitude that Cregan was carrying on himself.
«Look,you can still go back in the rain if you prefer.»she told him,with a sour tone.
She felt bad to see him frightened by that thunderstorm,but if he didn't even show her a minimum of gratitude or a spirit of collaboration, then he could very well leave.Y/n was a sunny child,always with a smile on her face and ready to raise the morale of anyone who needed it.
But“This boy is really unpleasant”she thought.
Cregan crossed his arms to his chest,squeezing his eyes and staring at her,offended and angry at the same time.He thought that he shouldn’t have accepted her invitation and that both their fathers had made a mistake by promising them.They would never get along.
He could very well go back to his room and overcome that storm on his own,as he had always done until then.He didn’t need Y/n help.He made a grimace in the direction of the little girl,who responded to the gesture by raising her eyes to the sky.
But when he was about to open the window door and return to his room,without his dark cloak,a flash illuminated the sky and his face.
Cregan eyes went wide,as he was falling backwards and ending up on the ground on his butt as he waited for the arrival of the thunder that did not take long to arrive.His lower lip trembled,while he couldn't move any muscle.
He hated how thunderstorms could do this to him.He hated how they could make him tremble and frighten.
“They are a normal thing,dictated by nature”his father had always told him.
Yet Cregan didn't believe it.He continued to hate thunderstorms.
And something told him that this fear of his would never go away.
«Cregan.... are you all right?»he heard a soft voice behind his back.
Cregan looked up and saw Y/n standing on her knees on the carpet and he only remembered at that moment of her presence.
The boy gasped,looking for an answer.But before he could speak,another flash lit up the room,and before the thunder could be heard,Cregan had already put his hands on his ears.
The arrogant facade,which he had previously put on,had now completely crumbled, revealing his insecure and frightened side.
Y/n didn't know what to do.
The annoyed face she had a little while ago,was gone.Now she was really worried for him.She just wanted to find a way to distract him,and to put an end to that clash of lights that illuminated the room.
Cregan did not move,with his head resting on his bent knees,and the palms of his hands were still covering his ears,in the vain hope of not hearing that almost metallic and shackled noises.
«It’s alright,don't worry.»Y/n tried to reassure him.But it seemed that no one could move the young boy.
«They usually just make a big noise and then they go away.»she continued with a reassuring voice getting closer to him.
But Cregan was still shaking, scared,and Y/n didn't know what to do.She was never scared of thunderstorms.She would have liked to hold him tight in a hug,to drive away all his fear.But she knew that if she did,she would only make things worse.
In the meantime,Cregan continued to make himself small,smaller and smaller,curled up almost on himself on that light pavement.
«I mean…deep down it's just water,isn't it?Water and lights.As if it were an ocean... and the oceans are beautiful,aren't they,Cregan?»she asked with a hint of hope.
Y/n was used to the water,she lived near the sea and she had grew up running up and down on her fathers boats with her brothers.Her mothers read her stories about fishes,sailors,mermen and mermaids.
And while he did not respond,too busy controlling his fear,Y/n came up with an idea.
«I know what to do!»she almost screamed,catching Cregan attention and shicking around the room,as if looking for something.
The boy looked at her confused,forgetting – but only for a short time – of the thunderstorm.
«There you are.»Y/n exhaled,almost relieved.
Cregan blinked,observing the more confusion she had created throughout that room,the books scattered on the floor and the cabinets wide open,just for that medium-sized old book she now held in her hands,with a proud and satisfied smile.He didn't understand what use that book could have,but he didn't breathe,limiting himself to observing the young girl sitting carefully next to him and opening it.
And then millions of billions of fishes began to swim between the old pages.Cregan mouth widened into an “o”, but he quickly closed it again before Y/n could notice his astonishment.It's just a very simple book of fairy tales,he said to himself.
Yet,in some way,it had distracted him.
«If you lie down on the bed,you can see them better.»Y/n spoke,making herself comfortable on her bed and starting to turning the pages.
Cregan grimaced,watching how she was smiling.That wasn’t proper.
«Why should I lie down-»yet another thunder«Alright... I lie down.»he immediately changed his mind.
He hurriedly took the steps that separated him from that bed,before sinking into the lavander sheets that smelled of flowers and vanilla.
Y/n by his side smiled at him.But Cregan didn’t,remaining impassive and jolting at every thunder.She closed the curtains around her bad,only the soft light of the candle on the nightstand remain.The 'lightning' factor had been solved.
«They're beautiful,aren’t they?»she said,tracing with her fingers the different fishes.
They were.Their shapes,colors,sizes were mesmerizing.
Cregan didn't know to answer again.Those bright,fishes seemed to moved quickly on all those pages in a continuous flow.They were simple,so damn simple,yet they had caught the his attention.
«Yes,they ar–»he tried to agree with her,but here's yet another thunder made him jump out of fear.
Y/n by his side watched him close his eyes and plug his ears with both hands.
She had to find a way to distract him from the sounds too.
«You see him?»she turned the page and pointed to a strange figure on the right corner.
A man with a tail of a fish.
Cregan turned to her,taking his hands off his ears and moving his eyes on what Y/n finger was pointing to.
«It’s a merman?»he sounded uncertain,the figure on the book looked like the blazon of house Manderly.
Y/n nodded her head confirming his question«They said that he loved another mermaid and when the pirates had captured her,driven by grief,he turned his body in marble creating White Harbor.»she explained him,showing him another picture of the place where now she was living.
Cregan looked confused,his eyebrows raising«Why would he do that?»
The girl next to him sighed,her shoulder touching his,the sweet perfume of her hair was tickling his nose.She was warm and soft and made his stomach twist and his hands sweat.
«I guess that he couldn’t live without her and preferred to die.»she simply answered«Years ago i used to cry when my mother read me this story.»she continued as she flipped the page.
In the dim light,he could see that her eyes were a little glassy and only now he remembered that just like him,she was still a child with fears like him and stories that made her cry in her mother arms.
«How about her?»Cregan eyes and hand went to point to a female picture.
A mermaid with a red tale and long wet red hair on her shoulders,sitting on a rock near the coast.Her beautiful expression seemed pained,her mouth opened as if she was saying something.In the distance seemed that a storm was coming,the waves crashing into the shore,dark clouds on the horizon.
Y/n smiled,stretching the book out to him so that he could take a better look«She was a princess that fell in love with a sailor.Her father,the King of the fourteen seas had forbidden their love.»she started to explain with a soft tone«They could see each other only on the beginning of the Long Summer,when her father was away in the ocean»she said.
Cregan yawned«And how did they knew when the Long Summer came?»he seemed genuinely interested now.
«The storm.»Y/n quickly answered«It was her way to let him know that she was waiting for him.She was calling him back to her.»in her expression he could find a hint of teasing.
He shuddered,the thing that scared him the most,for this children book,was just a mermaid calling for her lover.
«But how does he know?»he asked again and his voice was becoming softer,his eyes closing a bit,yet he stayed very curious about the story.
«Does he know what?»Y/n whispered.
«That it was her.»he continued.
«Because he had loved no else but her in his life.Only her could have called him back home.»she explained and he swore he could’ve seen her eyes shine bright.
«I hate her father.»Cregan mumbled.
He found it stupid,it was just a fairy tale to help people sleep,but if the mermaid father didn’t get in the way tonight he would’ve been scared.And that’s also must had been the reason why she wasn’t afraid of them.
Y/n giggles made him blush,as she shook a little onto him«But you know what’s the best part of it?For the rest of the summer there wouldn’t be any other storms,just the bright sun as the two of them could be together.»she whispered.
It was a way to say that after every thunderstorm that would’ve been the sun.Always.
«Wasn’t she scared of her father founding out that they were still together?»his voice was sleepy and his eyes heavy.
Y/n shook her head«Love is stronger than fear.»she stated«Don’t you find it beautiful?»she said then,a dreamy look in her eyes.
There was no answer.
Y/n turned to him,finding him with his eyes closed and his mouth half-open.His chest would rise and fall at a regular pace,while his slight breathing could be heard.She smiled at that sight as she stroked his hair.
Cregan had fallen asleep.Y/n was satisfied.Satisfied and happy.
She succeeded in her intent,help him and distract him from the thing that scared him the most.She wondered what Cregan would do at this time if Y/n hadn’t invited him?
He would probably still have been awake.Because the thunderstorm hadn't stopped,no,it had never stopped.The mermaid was still calling for her lover.
The flashes,however,had mixed in the images on the pages and the noise of thunder had been lost among the stories of Y/n mermaids.Cregan had been so busy observing those images drawn on the book and hating the King of the seas,that he completely forgot about the thunderstorm.
Y/n closed the book,placed it carefully on her nightstand and reached out to grab a thin sheet at the bottom of their feet and covered the young boy who slept well by her side.
«Good night,Cregan.Tomorrow there will be the sun,i promise you.»she whispered kissing his forehead and drifting to sleep too.
And for the first time,after so many years,he slept.After so many years,Cregan was sleeping peacefully with a thunderstorm.
On any day in the early summer,ten years later,Lady Y/n Stark of Winterfell was laying in the bed she shared with her Lord husband.
Wife and husband,that’s what her and Cregan had been for the past four years.But before pronouncing their vows in front of the Seven and their families,they had became the best of friends.
When did they start calling each other that way?When did they become friends?Could they find a precise moment when they had gone from being strangers to even best friends?Were they able to establish the exact moment when their bond changed?
No,they couldn’t.
Maybe it was the year after that fateful rainy night.Maybe it was the next month when Cregan had spent all of his moments and attention in Y/n presence,falling in love with her more and more.
Or maybe it had happened at the exact time their hands had touched,when Y/n had proposed to be together in that thunderstorm,to mark the point of change for their relationship.
They didn't know that though.Neither of them knew for sure.But they didn't even ask.They fell in love with each other before they got married and that was that mattered.There are bonds that are born before the interlocking of the hands and connections that are born before touching each other.It was just pretty to think that,all this time,there was some kind of invisible string that was tying them together.
Anyone who cared for Cregan had to understand that he needed a little looking after.Someone who could help him sleep,who reminded him that he was just human and that he could still a child sometimes.And Y/n understood that,she held him gently,far more gently that anyone ever did.She stayed up with him when he couldn’t sleep at night,she stood next to him to greet the arrival of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and supported him in his decision to fight for the Dragon Queen.
All because she loved him more than anything and because he loved her.To love and to be loved was to rest.
Yet,now that Cregan was away,on the Wall of the great north with the young prince,Y/n couldn’t seem to find sleep.It was raining heavily outside,the long summer had arrived earlier that year and a violent storm was what welcomed it.
The pale rays of the moon filtered through the clouds,the wind was blowing against the windows,the lights of the lightning shaped the dark room she was in.
Cregan had ruined her,she thought to herself,ever since they got married and started to share the bed she couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t next to her,holding her in his arms,kissing her lips softly and whispering how much he loved her.But she knew that,with the war at their doorstep,he was busy with the young prince Jacaerys who came two weeks ago in ask for the help of the North.
Her husband was a man of honor,the Lord of Winterfell that never forget his oaths.
When a particular loud thunder broke through the quietness of the castle,Y/n got up from her bed.Taking the candle on the nightstand,she started walking down the dark corridor to reach her children chambers.Her sons,Rickon and Brandon,only four and two years old,looked exactly like their father:true men of the north but with their mother eyes and kind smile.
Just like their father they were scared of storms,it took her hours to put them to bed that night since the first drop of rain had hit the ground.They both reminded her the first time that she had spent with Cregan during one of those,curling up on her as she read them one of her books to help them sleep.
But that night was different,after two weeks of writing letters and longing,Cregan was finally home.As she quietly opened the door,the candle that Y/n was holding in her hand almost fell,when she saw her husband sitting on a chair in between the two beds where their sons seemed to sleep so soundly and well.
He was still wearing his dark fire coat and his long were wet,the tip of his nose red from the cold,while in his hands he was holding a old fairy tale book that they both knew very well.As if he had heard her behind the door,he smiled,and his face was like the sun.
He had came back as soon as he had heard the first sounds of the thunders,like a sailor bewitched by the melody of a siren voice.His sons were the first ones to greet him,running barefoot down the hallways to reach comfort in their father strong arms.
Cregan had been there before,his heart clenched in his chest as he dried the tears off their eyes and saw the fear on their little faces.But he knew what he had to do,unlike his father,he would always be there for help his children no matter what.
«The mermaid had waited all winter for her lover return,her voice guided him through the storm.»his voice was quiet and soft like a warm blanket«With the first lights of the new sun,he came back to her.»in his hands the hold book.
His oldest son yawned«But wasn’t he afraid of the storm?»Rickon asked,holding his teddy bear closer to his chest.
«He was.»Cregan nodded«But you know what is stronger than fear?»he whispered,noticing his younger son fast asleep.
Rickon shook his head,his eyes fighting to urge to close«What?»he chirped.
«Love.»his father simply answered«The idea of coming back to his lover was stronger than the fear of the storm.»Cregan stood up,caressing his son head.
«One day i want to love someone this much.Just like you love mama.»Rickon murmured sleepy,with a little smile on his face.
«And you will.»he promised«One day you will have someone that will help you overcome your fears and that will always call you back home when you are wondering too far.»he kissed both of his sons forehead.
Cregan was still a little nervous about storms,but that night he was finally back home as sun on water.Y/n reached for him and skimmed her hands over the light of him.
«I missed you.»she whispered on his lips,kissing him sweetly.
Cregan was holding her in his arms,gently caressing her hair,his forehead on hers«I saw the storm and i knew.»he smiled,trailing his lips on her chin and cheeks.
Y/n shivered,not only because his icy fingers were rubbing up and down her back,but because only her could understand the meaning of those words.The intimacy of having something only them could share with each other.
«So you came back early because of the storm?»she giggled as his beard tickled her beautiful face.
He smiled even more,tightening his grip on her smaller body«I came back because of you.Only you could have called me back home.»he whispered placing a kiss on her lips.
The smell of her hair,the taste of her mouth,the feeling of her skin seemed to have gotten inside of him or in the air all around him.She had become a physical necessity,not only to ease his fear,but to have someone to come back to.
She placed her head on his chest,listening to his heartbeat beating alongside hers.They stood there for a moment more,embracing each other,in the dark corridor.
«Do you hear it?»Y/n softly asked suddenly.
«Hear what?»Cregan voice was low.
«The sound of the rain.»she explained,closing her eyes and relaxing against his touch.
For a while they just listened to the incessant ticking of the rain,while a thousand fish continued to swim on the pages of their book.
But suddenly a flash illuminated the corridor,followed by the due thunder.
Y/n jolted,expecting her husband to do the same.
Yet this was not the case«Aren't you afraid of thunderstorms anymore?»she teased him.
«How can I be afraid of thunderstorms when I'm by your side?»he said,caressing her cheek lovingly.
«Tomorrow there will be the sun.»she smiled against him,brighter than any light.
She was right,after the storm there was always the warm weather and Y/n was the golden sun at the horizon.That one thing that gave him hope for a brighter future,the only one that could bring him back home.Because his sleepless nights are better with her than any nights could ever be alone.
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Note
Can you do kaeya for death seeking creator please?
Oh I absolutely can! I apologize if how I characterize him is inaccurate. But I hope you enjoy it either way!!
Typical death warnings here, plus some possible psychological horror from Kaeya's perspective? Idk
News of imposters had been sprouting up frequently within the confines of the bar, it seems that's what most talk about lately. Kaeya never paid much mind to it as he felt the topic of such gruesome punishments that befell them were inappropriate to drink to. Though with a more hazy mind he would call himself a hypocrite, as he also would be in agreement for those who defiled the Primordial Mother's image to receive such punishments.
But as of now he had a clear mind, obversing everything he can as he looked down at the dirty individual before him. They're eyes were wide in fear, hands clutching onto the grass below as if ready to run any second. It was clear they were terrified, thinking their life was about to end. And while he would happily will it, he has a more...humane method in ridding the world of such heretics.
"My, you look a bit worn-out. Do you need any help?" He asked, pitching his voice to give off the false concern he wished to show. He reaches out his hand in help, his smile just barely there. He can see them hesitate, very much in disbelief at his 'kindness'. He couldn't blame them, no one would be kind to someone as disgusting as them. "Let's find some shelter you can use. I have some preserved slabs of meat to cook up, as I'm sure you're hungry."
A growl from their stomach answers him, causing him to laugh from the sheer predictability of these people. He gently guides them towards a safer area, ignoring the shine in their eyes as they followed. He sets up a tent and a cooking fire easily, refusing to let them help him.
As the meal cooks he asks the imposter before him what their situation was, only half listening as they prattled on about them not being at fault and they were just born that way. Something he has heard before from the recountings of others who have come across such vial people as this one. He responds with feigned sympathy, telling them how sorry he was for the tragedies they faced.
Once the food was finished he gave them a large helping, saying they needed all the food they could get if they wished to find another safe place somewhere else. He was able to hold in his expression when the dirty individual gave their thanks, looking at him as if he was some savior. In some way he was, he would delude to himself sometimes, for he would give then this false hope before they were to close their eyes for the final time.
As the sun was setting over the horizon, Kaeya grinned as the imposter yawned loudly. Their eyes drooped as a hazy look settled over, before falling over to snooze against the dirt below. The sleep potion had worked wonders, as he knew it would. Carefully picking them up, he gently placed them a few meters away from the campsite, as to not get blood on his equipment.
Taking his sword in hand, he presses it against their throat, watching them shiver in their sleep as the cool metal touched their skin. He studies their face, fascinated in how it was a one to one recreation of the god who not only gave him and everyone life, but that also guided him guided throughout his years.
"Apologies my friend." He says in a whisper, with only the wind to hear. "At least you got to go in peace."
And with a quick and precise movement, he turns away as to not watch their disgusting blood seep into the grass. He walked back over to his camp, not bothering to bury the dead creature. As he looked up at the stars twinkling in the sky, he couldn't help but wonder if the Primordial Mother above was watching.
-
News of the Primordial Mother's return spread faster than any other imposter rumor had ever done. It was all anyone could talk about these days, no matter the conversation their god was always brought up. The church was bustling as many patrons were quick to pray and give offerings for when the creator would appear in Mondstadt.
Even Kaeya himself was cheerier as he watched the people around him buzz in excitement. Though it seemed to be growing a bit too much for him, as he decides to patrol outside the city for the sake of some quietness.
As he strolled towards Windrise he could feel the strong breeze, as if even Barbatos himself was celebrating. Arriving at the tree that symbolizes the old hero of Mondstadt, he looks around to take in the sights. A bit further away he could see a small patch of flowers that bloomed brighter than any other he's seen, he recalls that area was familiar but decided to held no importance.
His thoughts are quick to stop as he hears the snap of a twig, alerting him to something nearby. He quickly materializes his sword and points it in the direction of where he heard the sound, surprised to find a dirty and unkempt individual. Their hair was overgrown and matted, covering their face fully from his view. Their clothes were ripped, barely covering their form and making their golden scars apparent.
His eyes narrowed as he takes in their form, dissecting them with his gaze. He doesn't feel anything threatening from them, but a knight must always be cautious. Keeping his sword at his side, he addresses them. "My, you look a bit worn-out. Need any help?"
The person doesn't respond, they only stood there. They swayed side to side a bit, causing him to worry to them being injured. He takes a step forward, still cautious as to what movement they could use. "Are you alright?"
They still don't respond, a sense of dread enters Kaeya as he slowly moves forward. Just as he reaches out to brush their hair out of their face, they jump forward. Surprised he quickly swings his sword, causing them to scream as they fall to the ground in pain. Every nerve in his body was on high alert, his instincts telling him something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
He attempts to calm himself down, not fully believing what just happened. But the person lunges at him again, making him swing his weapon once more to slice against them. They scream in agony, drops of shining gold landing onto the grass below.
This wasn't right, nothing in this situation was right. This person, this...thing, it couldn't be bleeding the blood of the Primordial Mother. They were supposed to be graceful, elegant, clean, purity itself. Yet the figure in front of them was screaming like a beast wishing for death, it was horrifying.
"Just do it?" He hears them mumble, confusing him even more.
"Wha-"
"Just do it! Kill me again like you've done before!" They raged, their fierce gaze keeping him frozen in place. "I know your methods! The one time I thought someone was on my side, you killed me in my sleep!"
He killed them? He killed the Primordial Mother before? Nothing they said made sense. He would never have killed them. Never!
That imposter he ended ages ago, that wasn't them! There's no way! No one should have the ability to kill a god! Less of all the one who created everything!
This can't be!
It just can't be!
They lunge once more, every thought in his body screamed at him to move. If they get him they'll hurt him! So with the scream of confusion, rage, sorrow, any emotion he couldn't decipher, he swings his blade down for the final time that day.
As he watches them writhe in pain, he realizes he wasn't breathing. He grips at his chest, feeling his heart try to burst out. He drops to the ground on his knees, watching as their body withers into ash and flies off into the wind.
What had he done?
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the-moon-files · 4 months
Text
Linked Universe / GN!Reader - Random Headcanons abt the Chain! :)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 (ur here!)
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Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (you/they/them), Guide Reader!
Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Scenarios?
Stars: Wind, Wild, Sage, C*urage, K*ridai
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: i included the link from K*oridai (faces of evil), and the brunette Link from that old cartoon tv show,
& Trigger Warnings: none known.
Wind (Wind Waker):
Misses being a big brother
LMAOOO I CAME FOR UR THROAT HAHAAA
ok chill chill he's doing okay
He's just not used to being the youngest in any given group, he used to be the oldest kid in charge of the younger ones and his little sister too
But dont get him wrong! He rlly does love the advantages that come with it,
and when he's feeling down abt not being older u usually cheer him up by reminding him he can be the biggest little shit he wants and every single Link will forgive him once he pulls out his baby seal eyes lmao
Ur the easiest to rope into horse playing/goofing off and he's very happy abt that
The others can be too serious for too long so he appreciates how u and him lighten them up by trying to give each other noogies (he loses most of the time)
As soon as Wind found out the others could play instruments, he immediately demanded they do campfire songs every night lol
(Most of the time one person caves, even just to idly play smth)
Likes inventing weird new games to play that'll convince as many other people to particpate, he used to do it back home too, like finding the prettiest rock on the island, that way his grandma and even adults could play too :)
Needs to sleep beside someone at night, bc he secretly likes it, back on his adventure going to sleep all by himself (unlike living with his grandma/sister) always was a little hard for him
Very hard to wake up in the morning, sleeps in the latest out of all the Links
("I'm a growing boy? Ofc i need my sleep, whats ur excuse??" @ the other Links who sleep in late lol)
Likes to sew! He's still learning, but his grandma used to teach him how so he could help her keep up with his growth spurts/recklessness tearing his clothes up
Idolizes u forever if you embroider, and will watch u like those videos of someone's cat who's fascinated by watching owner craft smth lol (like this ⚫️v⚫️)
Enjoys making stoic people crack their persona and laugh
Also has the wheeziest laugh youve ever heard, it makes u laugh every time, even when he started laughing over a dumb pun
Oh yeah, makes a foul amount of dad jokes for someone whos only like 14 💀
(He once managed to break Time and Legend, which then broke Wars and Twi, and it just continued down the Chain until everyone was crying or on the ground, he wears that shit like a badge and it literally made his confidence go 📈 puffed his chest out and everything lol)
Wild (Breath of the Wild):
U already know everything there is to know abt him??
I dont even have to say it, and it shows when ur around him lol
Like he'll go to do smth stupid like shield surf down death mountain in a unknown Hyrule, and before anyone can even realize thats what he's planning to do you've caught and stopped him and made a compromise to shield surf down some snow bluffs later instead
Or when u know he's gotten new ingredients in some other Link's Hyrule and is going to try and cook with them tonight, so u help him make a regular meal of smth else along with so the boys dont suffer stomaches
Like u can absolutely predict his bullshit all the time, just imagine the most adrenaline junkie thing he could do in that moment with the combination of things around him and you always know what tf he's up to, ur always right lol
Ur the only one who can get him to stop the chaos (besides maybe Time, weirdly enough Sky/Hyrule/Four bc they are the least likely to tell him to stop, so when they do, its usually a very, very bad idea)
Likes hair ornaments, he's got long hair for a reason after all
Likes u to style his hair, and esp if u teach him how to braid or do diff styles <333
He loves that u help cook/at least prep, and u make sure another Link helps too, bc thats a lot of ppl to make food for with little to no help 💀
(Makes u ur fav foods at even the slightest mention of them, like u wont even have to say ur craving Link's already whipped the pan out best housewife fr)
One of the few Links who's adventurous with his clothing, and trying new stuff
Wild was worried abt his Champion tunic getting messed up but was sad he couldn't wear it as much anymore
So u handmade him a new shirt that imitates the old one but with some new designs to represent the Chain! :)
He started crying.
He either hugs so lightly he seems like he's not enjoying it (no true, he's just trying to be polite)
Or he squeezes so hard be pops ur back and nearly breaks a rib
U got the latter for that shirt lol
Any new thing he doesnt remember how to deal with, like how to sew (he knows 1 stitch help), how to wash clothes (dont mix whites and blacks, and colors), how to soothe headaches/muscle aches etc.
He just wanders pitifully over to ur side and looks pitiful lol
Like he's a confused and saddened puppy
And just holds up whatever mess he's made like, "im so sorry, i dont know how to do this pls"
Bc he trusts u to know (the other Links may be hit or miss too tbh lmao)
And ur the least likely to clown him for it too, at least nothing he doesnt also find funny
Sage (Tears of the Kingdom):
So sue me, i enjoy this stupid-definitely-not-canon-unhinged-Link thats done with everyones bullshit and wants to be a hermit
SUEEE MEE ABT ITTTTT✨️
The first time u saw his hair nest and immediately clapped ur hand over u mouth in shock and tried to take a brush to it on sight
He fucking hissed at you.
Feral bitch.
Sage isnt like that all the time, but he was certainly the most distrustful and prickly out of all the Links
(U could smell it was like a defense mechanism from his adventure/past from a mile away, and knew with time that it'd fade away into his true self... like how u just knew Wild that well too)
U are the only person allowed to casually touch him, he shys away from the other Links, let alone strangers,and the first he allowed to help him with his hair
Tbh after u washed it out and got tangles and mats out and cut split ends off etc.
He almost teared up, and was extremely confused why
Def the type to not have realized he felt insecure lowkey abt it until it was fixed (he also was embarrassed to say he didnt rlly know how to take care of it)
Energy of a stray feral cat that leaves dead birds on ur doorstep without fail every morning and u leave a food bowl out in hopes he'll actually be your cat 💀
Extremely protective of you, and eventually the Chain, to the point where he might set someone's hair on fire or use runes on them
Like not enough to seriously injure but enough to scare tf out of ppl and have them running for their lives
(Did he literally growl at someone when they tried to flirt with you?? ... why is Twi encouraging him.)
Was unnerved by Wild at first but slowly got used to him and often butts into whatever private convo u two are having
Like just casually struts up and plops his head on ur shoulder and waits for attention, may complain loudly depending on how grumpy he is that day
(Wild's not getting jealous and constantly hogging u for cooking to get even more time with you what-)
Okay but unfortunately
Once those 2 got comfy with each other, they started tag teaming everyone
Like u can now bet that if an explosion happens in the distance, Sage definitely caused it, and if he's there, then Wild's there making him the explosives
(Same for if Wild's there, then Sage's there)
Def the Link that likes showing the most skin, he "gets overheated easily" - local half naked man justifies his nakedness
(coughtotallynototherreasonslikebeingshirtlessaroundyouallthetimecough)
Absolutely grievous clowning on the other Links, like its getting into bullyinggg 😭
His words are E rated for Everyone, no ones safe not even you
Sage: "wait, all those rings and nobody's ever put one on you? And you've never put on one someone else??🤔🤔"
Legend: ...😦
The rest of the Chain: 💀😭😶
Time, trying to hide he's choking on laughter so hard he's abt to fall into the firepit
Will occasionally team up with Wild to make a protective little border on either side of you while in towns/new Hyrules
U once offered to sing/hum for him after a nightmare while it was ur turn on watch (he sleeps up trees btw) and after u switched off w/other Link, u both went to edge of camp to sleep next to each other and he had the best sleep of his life like that
Now demands begs u to sing him to sleep every night, wont take "i dont sound that good tho" for an answer
Courage (The Legend of Zelda, 1989 Cartoon TV show):
Yeah... he's here too.
Just dont read this tbh
Enjoys being ✨️special✨️ by being the only hero twink out here with brunette hair
Was insecure abt it being curly/wavy until u slowly built his confidence
Bc he's got the most confidence in his strength, but not in much else tbh 😭
Actually will randomly have moments of responsibility or capability you didnt expect out of him bc he can be so silly and jokey all the time
Youll be lost as hell and he just "hey its ok the stars look like this so we go this way" and it works
Like the type of person u sort of avoid relying on bc he's like a playful jock type and then they randomly show theyre the captain of the team for a reason
Dont ask why, but hes good at knitting, shhhh no, no, no explanation he just secretly is he wont even tell u why or how or when he learned this he just "hehe, wouldnt u like to know princeyyy/princesssss/your majestyyyy"
Hyrule, and rest of Chain standing by, went to talk to one of the Great Fairies in a Hyrule once to try and get some info abt where to camp tonight or where nearest town was and before he could get close enough to ask,
Courage was already yelling like "YOOOO BIGGEST FAIRY WHATS UP?! u mind giving some poor lost fellas like us somewhere to go with ourselves tonight??"
They kept talking super casually and she laughed so hard that she let u guys stay near her that night to camp and be under fairy protection like no fairy boy Link needed 💀
Everyone was shocked, and thats how u all found out Courage is rlly good with fairies/their best friend no matter the Hyrule
Every time u guys learn smth new abt him it feels so unexpected, like out of left field or smth
It just never seems to fit his usual persona, or at least not what youd expect from him
So needless to say the first time u guys learned he could talk to magical objects that were powerful enough (like the fucking triforce)-
(this was apparently so normal he literally lived with a piece of it just in his room all the time????)
Has weird mixture of country boy vs. royal prince sensibilities?
It alarmed several Links. 💀
He can talk to Fi.
(Sky and you nearly cried)
Like he lived in the castle alongside Zelda so he inherited some spoiled/etiquette stuff, but he still would absolutely go splash in mud puddles in the rain
Would literally do fucking anything if it meant youd give him a kiss on the cheek
Likes to hug you a lot too, with his huge ass arms lifting u up (no he does not care how much u weigh ur going UP) and spinning u around
Its his favorite, almost as much as kisses
No but he's slay fucking Majora to get a kiss, like it's actually unbelievable and kinda endearing how excited he gets if u promise him one lmao
Koridai (Link: The Faces of Evil):
Omg not them putting Link's name in the title of the gameee i didnt know that 😭😭
Geezzz,, i dont know what im on
But ig heres that other silly ass Link if anyone feels like reading it
Will also fight any god, including Hylia, for a kiss
Actually astoundingly good at strategizing
Like after a few times in heat of battle him organizing Links, Time and Wars practically jumped him to include him in planning shit
He was similar to Courage to in that he just was cracking jokes all the time u didnt expect it, also he's significantly more sarcastic than Courage
U introduced him to dark humor and the laugh he laughed practically burst out of him, he looked shocked by his own laugh lmao
So he also now has a streak of dark humor he shows when u talk for while/sees someone also enjoys it
Its like his not-so-guilty-pleasure
Really good at baking? He apparently learned a lot of miscellaneous skills to better court someone and he now uses them fully to seduce you,
thru gift giving mostly, its is love language besides acts of service :)
(All Links do some amount of acts of service tho <3)
Rlly good at styling hair surprisingly, and at shield surfing??? What
Actually down to try Wild's experimental dishes...
And by that i mean he pranks the rest of you by sneaking the inedible bits into ur food
U may or may not have nearly choked him out for it and now he doesnt do it to you, and even was trying to act all pitiful abt it like "sorry lovely, but i just wanted to tease u bc ur so cute!! 🥺👉👈"
Like,, stfu u little shit 💀
He has the energy of a male orange cat, dont ask why he just is, and specifically the orange cat getting on top of the fridge or stuck between the the screen door and glasss door comically or smth 😭
Hes also loud as hell
One of the worst at stealth unless he just keeps his mouth shut completely, like his whispering is loud
He proclaims his affections very loudly too, like gettin u flowers and chatting ur ear off with what he likes abt u lol
No, like he can go for 20 minutes or more if u let him, u better stop him before he gets into the personality based compliments
Bc those sound wayyy too personal to be aired out in public ngl, like its so soft and domestic itll kill u lol
And he means every word too 👀
I HATE THIS NEW FEATURE OR FUNCTION I SWEAR THIS DIDNT HAPPEN BEFOREEE!!!
😭😭 U ABSOLUTELY KNOW WHAT IT IS BY NOW, IT FUCKING POSTED MY DRAFT BEFORE IT WAS READY TO GO
God fuck this hellsite stop doing this meee
Thats it im just do what i do for the other blog and write it smwhere else and then copy paste onto the post this is ridiculoussss 😒😒
Well anyway, i hope if u read this before i updated and actually FINISHED THIS u come back and read it again!! :(
Sorry guys, but blame tumblr pls before u blame me 😔
(Yeah theres a lot of emojis leave me alone i feel strongly abt this)
Peace out,
🐤 Peep
I think ill start signing off my name ig, unless u guys wanna call me Moon that works too
225 notes · View notes
caelesblues · 11 months
Text
across the universe (part 1)
⋆。°✩ what it's like to love a member of the astral express, even when you're universes apart ⋆。°✩
c.w./t.w. fluff with bits of angst, lowercase intended, intense word vomit
word count: 2,750
characters: welt yang, himeko, dan heng
gn!reader, title is inspired by "across the universe" by baek yerin, notes at the end.
part 2 (with march 7th, stelle, and caelus)
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“why are you still with him? he left you didn’t he? he’s probably never going to come back anyways, so why are you still waiting?”
“how are you sure that he's not cheating on you out there? i mean you said it yourself, he’s traveling to different planets, who’s to say he’s not fooling around every now and then.”
“you’re wasting your time by staying with him, just break up with him and move on already. you’re not even sure if he’ll still love you after all these time away from one another.”
life really does like to throw curveballs at you every now and then huh? you would have never thought your relationship with welt would become conversation fodder for anyone, and you could’ve never predicted that they’d be bold enough as to outright say to your face their unwarranted opinions and remarks. but you can’t necessarily blame them as well, seeing as how such an upstanding man as welt yang just suddenly upped and left to join a group of intergalactic adventurers to go on, as they would say, a “trailblazing expedition” across the starry plains. 
okay so maybe it wasn’t as sudden as you make it out to be (like he just disappeared into thin air one day), but it was news enough for everyone else as well that at some point people were questioning your relationship with him.
at first people would just extend a sympathetic pat on the back or say some comforting words when welt just left, it then morphed into others skirting around the topic of him and your relationship for fear that they might upset you when a considerable time has passed since he first left, and now they’re outright questioning your loyalty to him when it’s been years since everyone had seen him last. 
it truly fascinated you how they once looked at you with concern and pity as if to say “you poor thing, left all alone”, but now their gazes lock onto you with a look of incredulousness as if to communicate “what is wrong with you, you’re waiting for nothing”. 
but all this talk just proves to you how the general public don’t really know either of you properly, and how other people’s views of your relationship will never really mean anything. while to others welt might seem like such a cold and distant (no pun intended) lover ever since he left to pursue adventures across the galaxy, it could not be further from the truth of who he really is as your lover. the thing about a man such as welt is that he is a stable and reliable presence in your life, that second guessing has no room in your love for one another. 
even across the universe this aspect of him and your relationship did not change the slightest, in fact your relationship just got stronger through the challenges you’ve faced together brought about by your unique circumstance. sure communicating with each other when you’re so far apart is quite the herculean feat (especially when he finds himself in missions, in which he can become virtually uncontactable sometimes), but welt will always find a way to send you a heads up of his current situation and will either message or call you once he finds an opportunity to do so. 
he seems to have a knack for knowing when you’re suddenly doubting yourself and where you stand in his life, and so he does his best to constantly remind you of just how important you are to him and that this distance between you can never overpower the overwhelming love he has for you. welt is always making time for you even when he is considerably busier, even finding ways to include you in his adventures, be it through pictures, videos, or taking you on a virtual tour on their current stop. 
that’s why you pay no mind to the naysayers trying to chip away at your resolve, doing their best to plant seeds of doubt and mistrust in your relationship with welt. they’ll never know of the numerous ways you’ve both cultivated a routine with one another to accommodate your (incredibly) long distance relationship, will never be privy to how you’ve learned to better trust one another at such a crucial turning point in your lives, the ways you’ve managed problems along the way, and how incredibly in love you both still are. 
what others say don’t matter to the both of you, what’s important is even with the universe itself separating you both, you can always count on each other. 
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space is cold, both the great big universe out there and the spaces beside you that himeko used to occupy. you guess this is to be expected, after all himeko has always exuded such an incredible sense of warmth about her. Ever since you both were kids she had radiated even amongst her peers- alway getting high remarks, easily making friends, showcasing her myriad of talents, getting recognition after recognition; it always felt like a person such as herself would be an untouchable figure, but still had enough grace to mingle amongst the common folk.
admittedly this is how you felt when you first met her when you were kids, but the closer you two became the more you understood that while himeko is undoubtedly someone who is always destined for greatness, at her very core she is just someone who has a heart of gold. 
ever since then you’ve stuck by her side, the once distant admiration for the girl you held in high regards had slowly but surely blossomed into an unfathomable affection reserved solely for her. and so it left you completely in shock when you learned that himeko, a person so incredibly bright, warm, and loved by all, had harbored a crush on you as well. it was kind of hard to fathom what aspects of you she finds desirable in any way, but just as you found comfort in her, himeko also found warmth and solace in you too. 
after the confession everything just fell into place, and the rest was history as they say. you both became each other’s beacon of light, warding off the coldness and darkness the world likes to throw at the both of you from time to time. since becoming himeko’s lover, you have had the privilege to see all kinds of sides to her that the public doesn’t necessarily have the chance to witness, and being there for her during one of her life’s biggest projects-reviving the astral express.
day in and day out you can be found helping her fix the train, from simply handing her tools to getting yourself all tangled up in numerous wires. along the way you’d both started to learn more about the express, and you’d witness there and then the determination that grew on himeko’s face-you knew that once the train was up and running again, she’d take for the stars just like akivili and the nameless did once. 
just as you were excited for when the express would be in commission again, you were just as nervous to what it meant for the both of you. you and himeko knew that no one could stop her from leaving, not even you (as if you would ever in the first place, really). and so all you could really do from then on was countdown the days until she inevitably had to leave, savoring the moments of warmth you’d still get to relish in while she’s still here with you.
 days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years-it took a long while, but the astral express was finally ready to go. the day of her departure is as clear as ever, watching alongside everyone else as himeko commandeered the train into finally take off for the great unknown, replaying the last face to face conversation you’d have with her for a while,
(“so uh….this is goodbye then huh?”
“i guess it is, but i’ll come back someday”
“will you though? and for how long will you be gone?”
“I don’t really know myself, you can’t really be too definitive with things like this”
“i know. i’ll miss you a lot though”
“i’ll miss you too. hey let’s promise each other to always keep in contact no matter what, ok? that way we'd still have each other even if i’m docked on some planet far away.”
“of course, i gotta make sure you don’t forget about me”
“and i have to make sure that even when i’m gone, you won’t find someone else to replace me”
“i could never”).
a lot of time has gone by since then but you both have kept true to your words of still making time for one another, and as the years have passed you and himeko have cultivated a routine-one that ensures that at least you still get to spend time with one another, even if just through virtual means. and it’s through these moments that you realize that no matter how far himeko may be nor how long you’ve gone without her by your side, she still radiates the same warmth you’ve always loved about her. 
the fear you initially had of how himeko would go cold on you once she leaves, gradually dissipated when she showed you how utterly devoted she still is, how she never changed amidst the ever growing spatial distance between the both of you. you can still feel her happiness for you when you recount  all the things you’ve achieved, how she’s always lending a sympathetic ear to your rants though she may be busy, the words of comfort through your times of need, and most especially how you still consider each other as home. 
it’s through all these kinds of moments that you realize your fear was unfounded, that no matter where she is, your himeko will always be someone you can always find peace in. and that for her, she knows that somewhere out there she will always have a home to come back, a home in the shape of you. so while the spaces beside you that she once occupied have now gone cold, the love you hold for one another continues to blaze stronger than ever. 
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“hey, are you still awake?”
“i was just about to go to sleep actually.”
“oh…i’ll just call some other time then.”
“it’s ok, i don’t mind. besides i know you need me right now anyways”
“i don’t want to keep you up though”
“hey, what did i tell you again when you get nightmares?”
“....that i should never hesitate to call you.”
“exactly. ok, so tell me what happened?”
conversations like those are a very common occurrence for you and dan heng. though he keeps on insisting that you didn’t always have to pick up his calls, or that he’s just repeating the same stories over and over again, you shut him down quickly and thoroughly by assuring him that asking for comfort will never be too much for you. 
see it was never like this initially, that man always had an aversion to seeking out help from others when he needed it, and you were the one dan heng was always hiding his woes from. for as long as you have both known one another, he had always put up a wall of having to be strong even when he’s so clearly falling apart at the seams. well maybe to you it’s clear as day but for a majority of the people he encounters, dan heng is simply just an impenetrable wall of aloofness. 
getting to that point wasn’t an easy task to conquer, it had taken years of knowing and staying by each other to even get to that point. even then there were still times wherein dan heng would withdraw from you entirely, ranging from a few hours to a few days-but by and by, you’d still be there waiting for him patiently and he’d come to you when he finally felt ready to.
this slow but gradual strengthening of bond and trust instilled a confidence in you, that no matter what you’d be able to weather whatever storm may come your way…but things took a rockier turn once he left the luofu, bringing you both back to the days wherein he simply could not be reached. It was already difficult to get a hold of the man in person, but it significantly became harder once he started his starfaring journey with the express. 
messages being left on read, calls not being picked up, being stood up on planned video call dates, taking hours if not days to respond-these were things that consistently happened once dan heng became on the run, and you greatly understood why these things are happening in the first place anyway because a lot of the time there are just things out of both of your controls (very distant intergalactic communication being wonky, the different time zones dan heng finds himself in, work that impedes a lot of efforts to connect, etc). 
sure it was frustrating to deal with something like that when you never really had to in the past, but what really got under your skin was how you felt he started to drift away the more time he spent away. It disturbed you immensely bearing witness to conversations get shorter and shorter, the once comfortable silence now becoming painful pinpricks that can only be remedied once either of you leaves the call, and how you’ve now once again stood outside his walls. 
it was essentially being abandoned again, but this time it felt even more painful knowing that you can’t even confront him as easily as you did once. you were losing your mind as the days passed, trying your best to remedy the situation you’ve both found yourselves in, but it was nigh impossible with a man as adamant in running away like dan heng. the more he fortified his walls the more you were losing hope in being able to fix your relationship, hoping that the next day will at least bring about some good in any way. 
it wasn’t really until one day, after they recently completed another expedition that you got dan heng finally opening up to you. detailing how that particular experience made him realize that he was losing you for quite some time now,
(“the couple i met there….they reminded me of us”
“hm? how?”
“they were also going through a tough time, at least the one i talked to said so”
“....do you think we’re going through a rough patch right now?”
“i know we are”)
and thus that entire night was spent talking, remedying, and mending the relationship from the brink of fully collapsing. reminding the man you love that no matter where you both may be he can always turn to you for anything, that the universe itself will never be strong enough to deter you away from him. dan heng also assured you that he’s not going anywhere, even if he gave the opposite impression. that you can also rely on him when you need him, and that he’ll do better from now on. 
the days and nights of worrying were undone by his simple action of finally reaching out, of finally letting his walls down for you again. a full night spent reassuring one another, learning how to better trust each other, and finding ways to better navigate your unique relationship. and that’s the thing with loving dan heng, that there will inevitably be downs to accompany the moments of highs, but you two will always find a way to solve the problems you face. though at times it may feel like either one of you is slipping away, one of you will always be able to pull the other back from completely disappearing. that nothing is ever too great for the both of you to face, because you’d always find your way back to each other. 
“you ok now?”
“yeah, thank you for listening to me.”
“of course, i’ll always be here for you.”
“i seriously didn’t ruin your sleep?”
“nope”
“well, if you say so.”
“you feel like you can go back to sleep now?”
“yeah, all that talking made me sleepy to be honest”
“good, good. well i’ll also go to sleep now then.”
“good night, i love you”
“night night, and i love you too”
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FINALLY IT'S HERE! this blog is not abandoned, i was just working on this one piece for such a long time T_T not only was i busy with other irl things, this work gave me such a hard time since i restarted this so many times already ಢ‸ಢ
this is such a word vomit and i'm not so sure with the formatting (looking at it makes me want to ndaoindawn), i might change it later on. anyways part 2 with the rest of the members will be posted shortly.
i hope this at the very least decent huhuhu. likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated!
caelesblues @ 2023 | do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or repost on any other platform
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https://www.tiktok.com/@brooke_enns/video/7348849476393536811
Could you do a Lance blurb where reader finally gives birth to their third girl and after hours of labor, Scotty and Chloe take Margot and Addalynn to visit the reader and meet their sister and they are fascinated by her while Lance records everything and then sends the video to both his parents as well as the reader's
When arranging your birth plans, Chloe and Scotty volunteered to look after your girls when the time came for you to be in the hospital, easing your worries. As soon as the contractions became clear that they weren't Braxton-Hicks, you asked Scotty to pick the girls up before you called the OB, driving to the hospital so babygirl number three could come earthside.
"Are you excited to meet your little sister?", Chloe asked the girls as she walked up to the hospital with them, Scotty heading in the front so he could give the lady in the reception desk all the details they'd need to go up.
"Yes, I can't wait to meet her!", Addalynn said and Margot nodded, "me too, and I can't wait to see mummy and daddy, too", she smiled.
"Remember what we told you, okay? Inside voices because people are healing and resting, and no jumping onto mummy, okay? She'll be sore for a few days now", Chloe recalled, waiting on the side as her husband waved at them to join him.
"Are they awake?", Margot asked Scotty as the elevator went up, "I'm not sure, princess, your daddy might be, mummy perhaps, and your sister is probably asleep", he replied, "That's true, babies sleep a lot", Margot agreed.
Lance opened the door for them, letting then in after kissing the top of the girls' heads, "hey, loves", he said, pulling out his phone to record the moment and send it to your parents and his parents since they hadn't yet been to visit.
"Hey, my loves", you cooed as you saw your daughters as they stepped closer to the clear bassinet, looking at the bundled up baby inside. Like Margot predicted, she was asleep, a cute pout on her face along with her squishy cheeks.
Margot gave her a cute little wave while Addalynn just marvelled at the new baby in the family, "can I touch her like this?", your now middle daughter said as she rubbed the blanket covering the baby's tummy.
"You can, and you can touch her like this", Lance said as he let his finger wander from the baby's forehead to her chin, "gently - yes, just like that, clever girls", he smiled as both Addalynn and Margot touched the baby with the utmost care and patience.
"Have you guys decided on her name yet?", Chloe said as she hugged your shoulders, accepting it when you patted the mattress beside you and sitting next to you.
"Yes", you smiled. You had been torn between two names, but when you looked at her, Lance knew which one was the one, "Genevieve, Viv for short", he announced.
"It's pretty, I like it", Addalynn said, Margot still infatuated with the baby, "she looks like the dolls we have at the house", she whispered and jumped slightly when the baby moved, making a small noise before becoming still again other than her breaths, "she's so cute, mummy", she said.
"Yes, you three girls are the cutest", you smiled.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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Okay i lied , im not cutting off yandere sources cause i need Yves to cope with the high stress.
So here's some Yves content at the supermarket
Yves pays close attention to how and where your eyes linger at. Especially at grocery or other retail stores where there are a wide variety of objects. He notes down what catches your attention first, next and last, what caused you to do a double take and for how long. What colour, what texture, what shape and etcetera etcetera. He keeps count and remembers the sequences too.
It's fascinating, your habits change depending on the lighting, temperature, humidity, atmospheric pressure, smell and loudness of the area. Even the feeling of the flooring beneath your shoes would affect the duration you're willing to look at a product.
Yves would pretend to check the nutritional information of an item that claims to be "healthy" and "organic". But in actuality, he's watching you; do not underestimate his peripheral vision, it's almost as if he has eyes on the back of his head.
He would get a small rush of excitement whenever he predicts your next move successfully, shock and slightly more delightful when he's wrong; because that means he has discovered something new about you and must document his findings immediately.
How strange, you're exhibiting signs of under stimulation despite the fact that supermarkets usually fulfill your sensory needs, most of the time, overloading you. So Yves peruses the aisles even more, letting his heels clack against the tiled floors, pushing the shopping cart slowly and observing if the extra disturbances around you will do anything to your predicament.
But no, you're still uncomfortable. How interesting, how can Yves help you? He's dying to know, but he must run multiple tests discretely to find out.
However, before he could proceed, you walked up to him and stared at Yves in the eyes.
He replaced the can of diced tomatoes back onto the metal shelf before peering down at you. Yves intentionally chose to wear one of his taller heels to create that subconscious "guardian" role, making him ridiculously tall.
"Yes, dear?" He asked, bringing his fingers to your hair, gently brushing them away from your face. This seems to improve your mood, it made his heart skip a beat when he realized that you were craving for his touch.
You told him that it's nothing, you just wanted to see him.
Now that's not true, you wanted more but you're too shy and nervous to outright ask for it.
Yves smiled, softly coaxing you closer to his side, which made you automatically cling onto him and bury your head in his torso. Yves stroked your back rhythmically up and down.
While he lets you recharge in the side hug, Yves uses a free hand to inspect more canned items, he also likes guessing what additives might be added into each product and how much of each nutrient does it contain.
It's impressive how his brain works like a supercomputer with trillions of servers, his eyes, nose, ears, skin and tongue work as the world's best sensors. Yves is actively gathering the smallest, most detailed information about you, the environment, himself and whatever he has on hand. All that, without a struggle, without any clashes in thoughts or confusion in data. All that without overwhelming himself, not at all. He's in fact, very relaxed.
You let go of him when you had enough, but it seems you're not willing to fully part from his form yet as you're holding onto his large, smooth and manicured hand.
He walks to the next section of the aisle, pushing the trolley along with him and enveloping your smaller hand in his. He noticed that you've lost interest in looking around as canned goods bore you and you would very much rather look through shelves of candy and other junk foods. Where the companies work their predatory marketing tactics on unsuspecting customers like you.
If you wanted to, you would have left him alone to entertain yourself by now. But you're still stuck next to him as he reads the next list of ingredients.
He doesn't need to hide a delighted smile from you, as you're pushing your face against his lowest rib. Yves can express his glee at your very sweet and considerate gesture to accompany him despite your boredom.
He wanted to see how long you would last before he loses your consideration. That's why, Yves kept going through each can with you inching along next to him. Surprisingly, you're durable. But you're not exhibiting signs of weariness anymore, but instead, you're simply content and comfortable.
Strange. The buzzing, blinding lights above you and him, the monotony of the labels, the droning and other bustling noises would have driven you out of this aisle five minutes ago, let alone allow you to express... Happiness for being present. This isn't usual, Yves knows. He has observed you more times than you can count in this exact setting. Everything is more or less the same: the luminescence, the air quality and the decibels that your ears are picking up.
Except, the only variable that changed was him. His presence.
He gently called out your name, which prompted you to look up at him.
Yves pecked you on the lips, leaving a faint stain of his lipstick on your kisser.
"I love you." He whispered, biting onto his tongue immediately because he wanted to say much more. So much more. But he couldn't, it would be horrific for you to learn what he sees without your knowledge.
You stared at him, confused. Of course, you returned his words of affection. What baffled you was this glimmer in his breathtakingly beautiful, smiling eyes that would only appear if you did something extravagantly sweet and loving for Yves without expecting anything in return.
Like giving him a meaningful gift that you toiled for, trying your best to serenade him with an original piece of romantic music, going above and beyond to please or pamper him... What did you do?
Yves lets out a soft laugh as he watches you struggle to contain your excitement at the prospect of receiving that reward later at home. He can feel your tremors as you hold onto his hand.
Well, whatever it is, it surely earned you a very big reward. You're not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you gracefully accepted the silent message from Yves.
But for now, he must buy the groceries needed for the week, and all the ingredients to make your favourite dish of all time.
He pushed the cart to the next aisle, bringing you along with him.
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lesinquietes · 6 months
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I once wrote this longfic about Yandere!Professor!Levi who works out of a university and agrees to take you on as his teaching assistant in the first year of your grad degree…… and guys, the brainrot is back 🥺
Tw; coercion, degradation, dominant levi, dubcon (just a sprinkle), oral sex (levi receiving), slut-shaming, spanking
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He remembers how much completing a master’s degree sucks. Rewarding? A little. But mostly just a waste of time keeping to the institution’s expectations of excellence. Originally, he only applied to see if he would get one of the scholarships they offered to the poor folk. He didn’t anticipate gaining entry to the program.
Fast forward to eight years later, and he’s cozy in his teaching position. The headmaster is his best friend, Erwin Smith. Life is good. He doesn’t have to teach much with the team of graduate assistants he has each semester. He lets them conduct seminars on course material to get “teaching experience”. As if that’ll help them find a job afterwards.
Although everything seems to have fallen into place for him, there’s still something missing. A void. A yearning. For what, he doesn’t know; that is, until you came along. You make him realize that life isn’t meant to be easy.
For every class he teaches, he receives at least one teaching assistant. Oftentimes, the flock he gets are new graduate students who don’t know their hand from their foot. They’re so nervous in their new role, that they cause more havoc than they’re worth. As such, he’s learned to be a hard ass. It turns out tough love works better than coddling.
But you.
You don’t respond well to either.
And it pisses him off how you’re not predictable. Growing up in the slums made his ability to read situations damn near immaculately. To some degree, he should be able to predict most common behaviours. He’s utterly confused when you don’t respond to reward or punishment. What kind of person are you? The fascination takes him faster than the alcohol did after Farlan and Isabel died in that car accident. Unlike the liquor, he lets his attraction for you bloom.
He treats you like an academic study. He writes down his hypotheses and then conducts an experiment to record data. He documents every method he tries, hoping to make a breakthrough, all while skirting under your radar; the subject can’t know her role in his field research.
Initially, he’s hard on you. He discovered a marking error on one of his students’ returned papers. Usually he doesn’t bother to check his teaching assistant’s work. With you, he’s been putting in overtime.
“The fuck is this?” He growled, tossing the paper onto your desk.
“What?”
You took the sheet onto your hands and scanned the lines with careful orbs. When you reached the bottom, you locked eyes with him. He doesn’t utter a word. You’re bright enough to understand the implicit message.
“I made a mistake,” you state. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful.”
You always act so diplomatic with him. He wishes you would let your guard down. You speak to your colleagues with less of an edge to your tone.
“I thought a master’s student would be able to handle bachelor’s level shit.” He antagonized you. “If you fuck up again I’ll scrap your contract for next semester.”
It’s a bluff. He won’t do that. He doesn’t want anyone else getting you as a teaching assistant, least of all that creep Miche. You’re too alluringly odd. Levi wants to lay claim to you.
“It won’t happen again,” you called after him. “Sorry.”
A lightbulb goes off in his head. His vivid memory of your nonchalance gave him a bright idea. You don’t mean your apologies because you don’t care. Truly.
Of course you haven’t been responsive to his rearing techniques; you aren’t interested in what he’s offering. He hasn’t been using the correct rewards and punishments. You’re in this teaching assistant position against your will; you needed to take it on so you could afford to pay your tuition. He bets you’re dying for stimulation.
With this in mind, he sends you an email, requesting your presence in his office tomorrow morning. If you want something to captivate your picky mind, he’s going to give it to you.
He can’t believe his eyes when you actually obey his request to bend over his desk. Your skirt hikes up, revealing your cute panties. They’re white. The way they don’t fit around the cheeks of your ass makes his cock twitch in his pants. The notion that you planned this crosses his mind. He dismisses it in favour of indulging.
Levi smacks his ruler against your ass, revelling in how your holes twitch each time he strikes. You respond well to this punishment. You moan and gasp when he goes harder, panting breathily like a desperate whore. He’s never seen so much life in your face. He only stops hitting your plump globes when the skin feels tender and worn beneath his palm; even then, he gives them one more clap before standing up to tug down his trousers.
You suck his cock next. Who knew you were such a champ at giving head? He helps you along with a firm hand glued to the back of your skull. You choke and slobber when his rip slams into the back of your throat. He doesn’t let up. Tears are streaming down your face until he decides it’s time you worship his balls. He shoves your nose and mouth into his sack, shuddering when he feels your tongue lavish each sphere with your love. It’s almost enough to make him cum.
He can’t take much more of your teasing. He forces himself down your throat a second time and shoots his load. You cough and sputter, but he doesn’t let you off. You’ll only have the privilege of air when you swallow. Once you do, he’s happy to permit you to breathe.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and tilts your head up. His steely orbs are filled with wanton lust. Your makeup is smeared and your eyes are glossy. You’re in a daze. This is what you wanted all along; to be used by your professor.
Well, if that’s what it’ll take for you to maintain an interest in grading for his class, he’s happy to do it; the next time you need some proctoring, he’ll be sure to claim that wet pussy of yours.
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humanpurposes · 8 months
Text
Sweet Dream
The Sandman AU
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Her father means to summon and capture Death, but ends up with the wrong sibling. She becomes fascinated with their prisoner // Main Masterlist
Dream!Aemond x unnamed female character
Warnings: 18+, spells n shit, mild gore, death, lowkey Lima syndrome, smut
Words: 8000
A/n: For my fellow Morpheus and Aemond lovers. Also available to read on AO3.
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Roderick Burgess had always been a terrifying man. In grief he has only become more irritable and less predictable. 
The telegram came in the early days of July. She delivered the news to Roderick herself, while he was in his study. Her father did not like to be disturbed and he might have beaten her to remind her of the fact, until those fateful words slipped from her mouth. “Randall’s dead.” Shot down by a German machine gun at the Somme. In the end he had been one of thousands, his body buried in a neat line of tombstones somewhere in France, his name engraved on a plaque in the church at Wych Cross, ultimately unremarkable and indistinguishable from the other men and boys who had lost their lives.
But it was not so for Roderick. He let out a sudden groan and clutched his chest as though his pain was tangible and terrible. He shed no tears– of course he didn’t, but he gritted his teeth, crying out in fury as he dashed his hands over his desk, sending papers, books, fountain pens and empty whisky glasses tumbling to the floor. 
She stood frozen, waiting for his hand to descend on her for being the one to tell him, but it didn’t.
When they held a memorial service for him, Roderick handed her a piece of paper, to read before the crowd of faces she didn’t recognise. 
“Randall was our family’s happiness. He was the bravest, the wisest, and kindest older brother I could possibly dream of having.” Her hands and voice trembled as she read because she knew it was all a lie. In truth, Randall was like their father. They had the same short temper, the same stubbornness and the same cruelty. 
But Randall being dead meant she could reinvent him.
Lately, she dreams of happier memories and looks back on them fondly, knowing they can never be contradicted or disproved. 
While her father has dreamt of Death ever since. 
It’s a brisk afternoon in October when a man in a suit, bow tie and bowler hat arrives at Fawny Rig. He clutches a leather briefcase in front of him and introduces himself as Dr John Hathaway, a curator from the Royal Museum, travelled all the way from London to this quiet corner of East Sussex. She leads him through the panelled halls of the manor, to her father’s study.
Roderick barges in behind them, in a shirt and waistcoat, already smelling faintly of whisky and waving his cane in her general direction. “Tea for our guest,” he orders.
She has the pot ready and strains the dark, reddish liquid into two delicate china cups while her father and Dr Hathaway settle on opposing leather sofas in the centre of the room.
“I take it you have reconsidered?” Roderick says.
“After our meeting at the museum… I know what I said, but–” Dr Hathaway takes an unsure breath. “I received a telegram this morning. My son, Edmund, his destroyer was sunk last week off Jutland.”
It’s a loss Roderick can share, even if he doesn’t really understand how other than a few quick words of condolence. “I lost my son, Randall last year. He was my greatest joy.”
She pauses as she reaches for the sugar bowl. She has never been under the illusion that her own existence has given her father any joy, but then what sort of person would she have to be to earn his respect? She places the sugar on a tray, along with the small jug of milk and the cups, and brings them to the small table between the sofas. The pair don’t spare her a word of thanks or even a brief glance.
Dr Hathaway’s hand lingers on the clasp of his case. “If I give you this, could you truly do it? Could you really–”
“Capture the angel of Death?” Roderick says. “I believe I could.”
She shudders unexpectedly. The old groundskeeper used to say a sudden chill meant someone was walking over your grave.
Dr Hathaway clicks open the clasp and takes out an aged, leather bound book. It has no title on the cover, just gold markings in square, geometric patterns. 
“The Magdalene Grimoire,” her father mutters, his eyes wide in an ominous sort of wonder. “With the spells recorded in the book, we will see our sons returned to us.”
The next night is a full moon. She stands by the door with Sykes, welcoming men and women dressed in midnight blue robes to the manor and directing them towards the door that leads to the cellar. They’re all part of Roderick’s ‘Order of Ancient Mysteries’ which as far as she can tell is a cult of fanatics who still believe in witchcraft. They come to Fawny Rig once a month, to listen to her father read from so-called ‘spell books’ as though he is a preacher.
The fanatics pull hoods over their heads and descend the narrow stone steps into the cellar with lit candles grasped in their hands. Roderick leads the way, the book Dr Hathaway gave him tucked under his arm. 
She shoots Sykes a concerned frown but he just shrugs. He’s paid to organise the household and guard Burgess’ collection of relics, not to ask questions. Questions are a dangerous game with Roderick.
She trails after them and shuts the iron lock on the door behind her.
The cellar is more like a crypt, an expansive room sprawling under the house, held up by pillars and arches. In the low candlelight she makes out a set of markings on the floor in the heart of the room and this is where the Order of Ancient Mysteries gathers.
The shapes and symbols are unfamiliar to her, painted onto the flagstones, twisting and curling over each other to form a circle. Roderick stands at the very edge of it by a brass lectern.
She watches, half hidden behind a pillar as they stand around the circle and Roderick opens the book, his desired page already marked and studied in the hours since it has been in his possession. 
“Tonight,” her father says to his congregation, “we will achieve what no one before us has attempted. We will summon and imprison Death.”
His eyes meet hers through the shadowy space, heavy and sunken with age, grief and months worth of sleepless nights. They glisten slightly too. 
He holds his hands out and looks down at the markings on the floor. “Here, in the darkness.”
The others echo his words, softly and melodically at first. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.
And so the ritual begins.
“I give you a coin made from a stone,” Roderick says, presenting the object to the ceiling as though the eyes of God are looking down from the heavens, through the house and the earth, and drops it to the floor, inside the circle of markings.
“I give you a knife from under the hills.” He holds up a thin blade and lifts his other arm so the sleeve of his robe drops to his elbow. “I give you the blood from out of my vein.”
She winces but does not look away as he draws the knife along the skin of his forearm, until dark droplets begin to fall and stain the markings. 
“I give you a song I stole from the dirt and I give you a feather,” he says, raising a white feather that almost seems to glow through the gloom, “pulled from an angel’s wing.”
And all the while the voices persist. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.
He drops the feather and it drifts gently down, landing in the very heart of the circle. 
The room is still and she holds her breath.
The feather starts to move. It twists in a circle and floats up, lurching and turning as though it’s being blown about by a breeze she cannot feel or hear.
The voices raise to an urgent chant. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.
She clenches her fingertips against the stone of the pillar. She tries to meet her father’s eye again but he is fixated on the feather flying above their heads.
He calls over the chanting, “I summon you with poison,” and the moment he does the feather flickers like the striking of a match. “I summon you with pain! I open the way! I open the gates! I summon you in the name of the old Lords, we summon you together! Come!”
A noise, like a cracking whip splits her ears. The feather bursts into white and golden flames like the flash of a camera. The heat of it rushes over her face and burns her eyes.
And from the flames a body falls to the floor.
It thuds as it hits the ground, silencing the voices save for a few gasps and murmurs. She feels the flagstones rumble under her feet, sees the edges of a black cloak spilling across the floor and a head of long silver hair trailing from its head.
This isn’t an illusion. Roderick Burgess has brought forth a tangible entity, plucked from God-knows-where, lying motionless on the floor. For a moment she wonders if he is dead, until she sees a slight movement in his chest, but even then she fears she could be imagining it.
She takes a few unsure steps to where Roderick stands and the man– he is a man as far as she can tell– is further revealed to her. She can see his face now, his pale skin, the angles of his jaw and cheeks, the curve of his lips, but beyond that she finds herself unable to look away from the jewel that sits where his left eye should be. It is a bright, deep shade of blue and dotted with silver specs, like the vast expanse of twilight when the stars are out but the sky is not quite black. The eye is framed by twisted, red flesh and a scar, slicing from his brow to his cheek. It takes her a moment to realise his other eye, closer to the ground, is closed. 
The only other parts of him she can see are the tips of his fingers, clasped around a small pouch.
“Is this… Death?” she utters.
“That remains to be seen,” Roderick says. He points to the pouch. “Get that for me.”
She stares back at her father. How he can speak so flippantly when a man has been conjured, seemingly from thin air, is beyond her. But he glares back, his dark expression only more formidable with his aged frown.
So she steps forward and begins to lower herself beside the man.
“Careful, girl!” Roderick barks, “don’t break the binding circle.”
She stops and looks down, where her skirt is inches from brushing over the markings on the floor. She shuffles back and, with trembling fingers, reaches for the pouch. It’s not hard to take, the man hardly resists, twitching his fingers to keep it in his grasp. It feels wrong, stealing from someone too weak to hold onto what is his.
She looks into the jewel-like eye. Can he see through it? Perhaps it has something to do with the scar? Did he place it there himself, or was he simply made this way?
Someone snatches the pouch from her. She looks up at her father as he undoes the strings and peers inside. “Sand,” he mutters, and stows it away inside his robes.
“And the jewel,” he says to her.
She means to protest, but finds she cannot.
She avoids the markings as she leans forwards. She presses her fingertips beside the man’s eye. His skin is cold and firm.
She swallows her guilt and the nauseous feeling in her throat, nudging her fingertips into the socket. It takes her a few attempts, but she pries the jewel free, wincing when she feels it come loose. If he feels any pain he hardly shows it. His brow furrows but his other eye remains closed, and he makes no sound.
She stands and offers the jewel to her father.
Roderick holds it to the light of one of the candles, giving a curious hum before he pockets that too.
“Move,” he mutters to her, pushing her out of his way as he stands over the man. He tugs on the black cloak and it falls into fragments that fade away, like dust on a breeze. The man’s body is bare, pale skin running over details of muscle and bone. He shivers and twitches like he has a fever, but still he does not speak, or even let out a breath.
“We’ll let our guest recover,” Roderick says, “and then we shall make our demands.
They leave him there for days. He does not move, or ask for food or water.
She doesn’t dream in the nights since they captured their ‘guest’. In fact she hardly sleeps at all. Each morning she wakes, already exhausted, having felt like she’s only closed her eyes for a few brief moments.
Then come the stories in the newspapers. They call it ‘the sleeping sickness’. People all over the country, and in fact the world, have been plagued, either to not sleep at all or never wake up.
On a cold, drizzly morning, a stranger appears at the door to the manor.
She listens and watches from the top of the stairs, crouching by the bannister to stay out of sight as a man with choppy silver hair and pale skin strides into the entrance hall, with Roderick following closely behind.
“Do I know you?” her father asks, furiously.
“No.” The stranger’s voice is low and almost seductive. “But I know all about you, Roderick Burgess, and the being trapped in your basement.”
“You mean to intimidate me?”
She sees a flash of a grin and a pair of pale purple eyes through the wooden balusters.
“I am here to help you,” the stranger says. “There are benefits to keeping one of the Targaryens in your confinement.”
“Targaryens?” her father echoes.
“Did you think Death was the only one of her kind? Death has family. Destiny, Despair, Desire…”
“And who have I got?”
“Dream,” the stranger says with a smile that bares his teeth.
A shiver runs over her shoulders. She keeps her jaw tight to stop herself from reacting to it.
Roderick scoffs. “What good is a God who governs dreams?”
The stranger's voice darkens. “There was a saying in the ancient times of humanity, that said the Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. But they are not Gods. They are more than Gods. They are Endless.”
He tells Roderick of Dream’s vestments, the pouch of sand and his sapphire, both of which he says Roderick may manipulate for his own influences. He says the binding circle will not be enough to contain their prisoner, that they must construct a sphere of glass within the circle.
Most crucially of all, he says no one must be allowed to fall asleep in Dream’s presence.
“Why are you helping me?” Roderick finally asks.
The stranger runs his tongue over his teeth and smiles to himself. “Little family dispute, I shan’t bore you with the details. But for your sake, and for mine, he must not escape.”
He offers his hand to Roderick, who returns the gesture after a moment of hesitation.
Before he heads for the door, the stranger’s eyes trail up to where she hides. Her heart leaps with a sense of dread, like she’s seen something she wasn’t meant to. 
She doesn’t trust him, not by the look or sound of him, but her father does. He follows the stranger’s instructions, ordering the construction of the glass sphere, to be welded around their prisoner as it is made. Finally, he arranges a rota of guards to keep watch over him, under strict orders to never fall asleep, lest their prisoner escape into their dreams.
The details of his face are etched into her memory, even after months, the angle of his jaw, the curve of his upper lip, the silver falling over his shoulders. If she could dream, she is sure she would dream of him. Instead she holds onto the flashes of images that appear before her waking eyes, the pale skin of his bare body against the floor, the stars in his sapphire eye, now kept locked away in her father’s study.
She knows Roderick has tried to bargain with him, and each time he returns from the cellar more furious than when he entered it. “He will not speak a word!” his voice bellows through the quiet halls of the manor. “He will not even look at me!”
When she dares to ask questions, Roderick glares at her and tightens the grip on his cane.
The stranger with silver hair was right about something, wealth and admiration have come to Roderick Burgess in droves since he acquired the Lord of Dreams. It’s something about the sapphire, or the sand, something she doesn’t understand, but their family comes across good fortunes, which is almost entirely spent on lavish parties to entertain Roderick’s ever expanding crowd of admirers.
She wakes with the sunrise, from a void and dreamless sleep. The manor is littered with empty bottles, full ashtrays, plates of half-eaten food, odd shoes and playing cards. Her father must still be asleep, which is odd. He is usually an early riser, even after a night of drinking.
A rumbling in her stomach has her heading through the entrance hall towards the kitchen, but she stops when she sees two men waiting by the door to the cellar– two of the guards her father has hired to watch the prisoner, dressed in smart suits with service revolvers just poking out of their jackets. They look restless, peering their heads round corners, shifting their weight on their legs, not wanting to step too far from the door.
“We can’t just leave,” one mutters to the other.
“I’m not staying down there with that… thing one second longer than I have to–”
“Good morning,” she calls.
They look at her in unison, and frown.
“Have you seen Noel and Mauirce?” one of the men asks. “They’re nearly half an hour late.”
The rotation of the guards. They take eight hour shifts in pairs.
Her eyes glance to the cellar door, opened only a fraction. “I could watch him until they get here,” she says, “if you want to leave.”
It doesn’t take them long to agree.
They leave through the front door. When she hears it shut, she finally lets herself reach for the handle to the cellar door. The handle is cold, untouched for hours at a time, and a little stiff. She pushes on it slowly, carefully, making as little noise as possible. 
With the cellar door closed, she shuts out the light and warmth of the morning. A silent, icy draft drifts through the narrow stairway. She follows it down, all the way to the dull, eerie light of the main chamber.
The sight takes her breath away, the glass sphere, suspended above the ground, still within the circle of markings that keep his power contained.
He sits in the centre, still bare, his knees tucked into his chest and his hair falling around his face like a veil.
As far she knows, no food or water ever passes the threshold to the cellar, and the cage is never opened. How does he breathe? How does he eat? How does he not wither away? He just sits there, stoic, his face frozen in time like a statue, like the image of a god cut from marble, to be preserved and admired.
A man like that cannot be real, and yet there he is.
“Hello,” she says. 
He does not react to her voice or the sound of her footsteps as she walks further into the chamber.
If he can even hear her. She wonders how thick the glass is, if sound can permeate it, or does he just hear the sound of his own breath echoed back to him, endlessly.
She comes to lean against one of the pillars, tracing her fingertips down the cold, rough surface of the stone.
“Are you really the Lord of dreams?” she says. 
His gaze lifts and turns to her, just enough that she can see his chin, his nose, and a single violet eye. It is not like the stranger’s, it is far more vibrate, burning with with a silent fury that makes her heart flutter and her skin feel tight.
“I have not dreamt since that night.”
She knows it isn’t just her. It’s the sleeping sickness, the war, the cloud of darkness looming over the rest of the world.
“The groundskeeper has a son, he’s only ten years old. He’s been asleep for months now. He can’t even eat. If he doesn’t wake up, he’ll die.”
He does not react, but his eye follows her as she takes a single step away from the pillar, towards the sphere.
“This is my father’s– our doing, yes?”
Her eyes dip to his chest, to the movement of his lungs underneath skin and muscle, a steady rise and fall with a deep, patient breath. 
“My father is a reasonable man, if you could give him something, anything, I am sure he would let you out.”
He tilts his head, until she can just see the point of his scar on his cheek and the edge of his empty eye socket.
He is simultaneously the most terrifying and most beautiful thing she has ever laid eyes upon. The low light only accentuates the harsh angles in his face, the ridges and lines in the muscles and tendons of his neck, torso, arms and legs.
She takes another step closer. “I would let you out, if I could,” she says quietly, like a secret.
He blinks softly, and when her eyes flicker to his lips she sees them curled into something almost like a smile, but not quite. 
“Oh you would, would you?”
Her blood runs cold at the sound of her father’s voice. She whips her head around just in time to see Roderick marching towards her with his hand reaching out. His fist grips at her hair, and when she yelps in pain he hisses at her to be quiet. He drags her back up the steps, away from the cold cellar, to the warmth and the light, to the world without dreams.
She bathes before dinner, wincing as she runs her hands over the fresh bruises that mark her skin. Most of them are red, others are set deep and already turning a greyish purple. 
Her father’s fury still rings in her ears. “Stupid girl! If he escapes he will slaughter us all!”
Leaning on her back is especially painful, it’s where her body took the brunt of his cane. She brings her knees into her chest, hunching over herself.
She hasn’t cried over her father’s cruelty in years, not since she was a small child. He’d always call her weak for it. Randall never cried when he was disciplined, because he knew, deep down, it was good for him. Perhaps she is simply not as strong as Randall was.
Her tears are hot and stinging in her eyes. She blinks and lets them fall onto her knees, to become the dew that lingers on her skin.
“Do you want to die, girl? Because it can be easily remedied!”
She doesn’t wear anything special, a white satin dress, with long, billowy sleeves, and applies some rouge to her cheeks, to make her seem more awake, more alive.
She reaches the bottom of the staircase as the clock in the entrance hall starts to chime. Five times. Marking the start of another shift rotation. 
Two men appear from the hall that leads from the cellar, vaguely nodding as they pass her.
She can see into the dining room from the stairs, an enormous table set with silver cutlery and china plates, for just two of them.
The door to her father’s study is closed, obstructing the voices within. He’s arguing with someone. 
Before she can stop herself, she’s walking towards the cellar. She tries the handle to find it unlocked. With one final look to the door to the study, she descends back into the darkness.
Two guards sit on wooden chairs by the entrance from the stairway, and immediately stand to attention as she walks into the chamber.
“Miss,” one of them calls, “you cannot be here.”
And she seems to have caught his attention too. He looks up from where he sits in the sphere, his forearm resting on his knee. His hair is pushed from his face, and his violet eye is wide, curious.
“This is my father’s house, I will go where I please,” she says, shakily, continuing until she comes face to face with the glass.
He stares at her, somewhat furious, but in a way she knows it is not meant for her.
The men behind her are muttering to each other, she doesn’t hear their words, but she hears their panic.
“It isn’t right for him to keep you here,” she says. “It isn’t right for him to think he can play with mortality. And I am as bad as he is for letting this happen.”
The tendons of his hand flex as he clenches his fist, his fingers restless as he stares at her, intently.
“If I let you out,” she whispers, “would you harm me?”
His face softens as his eye moves over her face. 
He’s studying her, she realises. She imagines him noting the curves of her cheeks and chin, the shape of her mouth, perhaps the faint teartracks and the dark circles under her eyes.
What does he make of her, the daughter of his captor, the one who pried the sapphire from his eye? Roderick could be right, he might slaughter her the moment he is free from his cage. 
“I would like to believe that you wouldn’t,” she says.
His expression gives nothing away.
Suddenly he shifts. His muscles tense as he comes to his feet and uncurls his spine to stand before her. Something about his movements are distinctly inhuman.
The guards behind her are shouting now, telling her to step away, calling for Mr Burgess. Their voices are inconsequential to her, muffled as though spoken behind a closed door. Her heart pounds in her ears. All she sees is him, the intense gaze of his eye, a wide palm reaching out and pressing against the glass.
She reaches up slowly, his eye growing wider with every inch she comes closer to touching the glass that separates them, but not quite meeting it.
His brow furrows as if to question her. Why are you hesitating? What are you afraid of?
She won’t be dragged upstairs again. She won’t be thrown to the floor with nowhere else to go. She will not suffer at the hands of Roderick Burgess any longer.
So she presses her hand to the glass.
Her skin is feverishly cold, her arms weightless. She can almost feel the shape of his palm through the glass, but not quite, like she is reaching for something she will never touch, clawing to the memory of a dream.
She can feel herself slipping into numbness, her eyes and her limbs becoming heavy. She presses her fingernails against the glass, silently pleading though she doesn’t know what for. An escape? An end? Anything.
His face is strangely gentle as he pouts his lips, hushing her, lulling her panic. She can feel her breathing and her heartbeat slowing, but it does not frighten her.
The glass shatters, her knees give way. She is awake enough to know she is falling, but too far gone to stop herself.
But she does not need to.
The world around her is silent– no, a gentle breeze drifts over her skin and whispers in her ear. Sunlight beams onto one side of her face and the other rests against bare skin. She feels a weight around her waist, something propping her body upright.
She tries to steady herself but the ground shifts beneath her. The arms around her only tighten their grip when she stumbles.
Finally she lets her eyes flutter open. They are in a desert, a vast expanse of dry sand, reaching as far as the eye can see.
Her head is moving with his breath, against his chest.
She tilts her gaze up, close enough that her lips barely brush over the base of his throat.
His eye is already fixed on her, holding her firmly in his arms, pulling her into him.
Wordlessly, he releases one arm from her waist, and reaches down, keeping his eye on her face. When he brings himself back up, she looks at his closed fist, where sand slips from between his fingers. 
Her confusion must be visible on her face because he smiles softly at her, letting out a low “hmm” as he does.
She means to blink, but when she opens her eyes the world has changed again.
She lies face down against the ground of the cellar, dust and dirt pressing into her cheek, broken glass littering the floor around her.
She blinks again through the haze of sleep still clouding her vision. She makes out a figure in a long black coat with silver hair falling down his back. He stands over two bodies, lying lifeless on the ground, and stalks towards another.
Roderick is at the base of the stairs. He raises his cane and cries out as the prisoner reaches into his coat.
Her father’s voice fades into a spluttering, retching sound. Then he is silent. His body slumps to the floor with a gut-wrenching thud. When the stranger walks away, she sees her father sprawled out on the floor, blood spurting from his throat, seeping into his shirt, pooling on the floor around him.
She pushes herself up, leaning on her hands as her vision is blocked once again by a black coat. He stands over her, blood dripping from a knife he holds in his hand, his eye a brighter shade of violet than it was before.
He kneels beside her, taking her chin in his fingertips.
“Are you hurt?” he says. His voice is a hypnotic blend of soft and harsh, low and light, chilling in a way that sends a wave of warmth through her stomach.
She looks past his shoulder, where Roderick’s skin is turning from white to grey. “What did you do to my father?” she utters.
He jerks her head back to him. His expression is dark, lips upturned into a sneer.
Does he expect her to be grateful?
“My tools,” he says.
“You’re… what?”
“My tools. The sapphire and the pouch.”
The items that were stolen from him, that her father has now paid for with blood.
“Are you going to kill me too?” she says, digging her fingertips into the stone and the shards of glass beneath her.
He tilts his head and his lips twitch in a flicker of movement. His voice is barely above a whisper. “Tell me where they are. I will not harm you.”
Three men lay dead mere feet from them, and yet she finds herself wanting to trust him.
He offers her his arm as she stands, gripping at the thick, leather sleeve. Her palms are covered in small cuts from the glass, droplets of bright red blood pearling at the edges. He takes her wrists in his hands to have a look and tuts to himself.
“Quickly,” he says, moving towards the steps, leading her along with him, past the bodies of the guards, and the body of her father.
She brings him to the study, her hands shaking, bloody and outstretched before her. The door is wide open, a stack of papers thrown carelessly to the floor.
Roderick’s safe sits in a black cabinet in the corner of the room. She uses her fingertips to open it, wincing at the pieces of glass still stuck in her skin, but she swallows down the pain.
She guesses the combination on the first try. 1895– Randall’s birth year.
There, in the centre shelf, above the Grimoire, below a stack of banknotes, is the pouch of sand and the sapphire.
He reaches for the gem first. She turns away as he fixes it back into his socket, remembering the weight of it in her palm when she took it from him. She sees him reach forward again, but not for the pouch. He takes a hold of her wrists.
With no magic words or spells, he waves a hand over her palms. For a moment she sees a glow in his sapphire eye. The pain vanishes, so does the blood, the glass and the dirt. 
She blinks a few effortless tears from her eyes. Tears for her father, tears of relief, she cannot place a cause.
Cold fingertips meet her skin once more, as the Lord of Dreams wipes her tears away, bringing her gaze to meet his.
He leans in closer, until his forehead meets hers. “Sleep,” he whispers.
She falls into him, to find herself wide awake, clinging onto him as she had done in the desert.
But they are somewhere else entirely. The sky above them is a pale yellow, like daybreak, painted with swirling grey clouds. The land here is… dead. Dead trees, barren mountains and hills, and in the distance, beyond a dried lake, is a castle of red brick, decrepit, falling into ruin.
“You see the damage that has been done to my realm?” he says. With her ear pressed against his chest, his voice is cavernous and she feels everything, the way his words drag through his throat. She feels his pain at being confined, the loss of his home and his creations.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“I do not forgive easily, that is why Roderick Burgess had to die. But you…” he pulls away from her so he might look at her properly, cupping the sides of her face and swiping his thumbs over her cheeks. “I do not need an apology from you. We are free of him now.”
“Is that what you think I wanted?” 
He hums with tight lips. “I have seen your dreams, as I see the dreams of every mortal. I see them as clearly as you perceive the waking world. It just so happened that our dreams coincided.”
She had never dreamt of her father’s death and she had certainly never imagined that she might have played a part in it. But she cannot deny the weight now lifted from her shoulders. She will never have to earn his approval, she will never have to endure him again. She is free of him.
“Go now,” he says, “I am sure you have your own business to resolve.”
He releases his hold of her and brings his hands behind his back. As he walks towards the castle the world around her starts to fade. She can smell the musk of the manor, the lingering smoke of her father’s cigars, the distinct scent of a winter evening.
“Wait!” she calls.
The ends of his coat swish around his legs as he turns back to face her. “Yes?” he says, the corners of his mouth curling up into a small smile.
“I want to know your name.”
“I have had many names,” he says.
“And how would you have me know you?”
“Aemond,” he says.
She echoes his name, letting her mouth linger on the final syllable. “Will I see you again?”
He draws the tip of his tongue between his lips. “Perhaps,” he says.
When she wakes she is laid out on one of the leather sofas of her father’s study. She looks down at her hands, traces her fingertips down her face, now free of the dirt and dust. 
She wonders if she might have dreamt all of it, the beautiful man in the sphere, the glass breaking, her father’s blood on the floor…
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Her life is never the same after that. With her father dead, his estate passes to her. For the first time, her life is hers to do with as she pleases.
And yet she feels an absence, a hollow longing in her chest.
Her dreams come back to her since she set him free, and each night she dreams of him.
He only appears in brief moments, like lighting, bright and brilliant, but gone in a heartbeat, before she can truly see him. She sees the movement of a leather coat, flashes of silver, violet and sapphire blue. Sometimes she is met with darkness as a pair of lips ghosts over her neck with a contented sigh and a warm breath.
She cannot bear it.
As she lies in the empty manor house, she traces her fingers over her body, her lips, down her neck and her chest, underneath her cotton nightgown, to her navel and the pool of wanting wetness between her legs, trying to imagine they are his. 
She pictures the way his hair fell around his face, the coldness of his skin, the curve of his lips. She imagines them parting in a small sigh, the sound of his breath, the way his chest hummed as she circles over her bundle of nerves. Pleasure sparks at first but it keeps slipping from her grasp.
She circles faster, harder, searching for a spot that will finally give her the release she craves.
She feels heat and a sheen of sweat settling on the surface of her skin, her breathing hitches, her hips twitch under her touches. The pleasure heightens, then fades.
With her eyes tightly shut, she spurs herself on with thoughts of him, breathlessly chanting his name into the empty space and cold air of her bedroom.
“Aemond… Aemond…”
Something changes.
The mattress shifts beneath her and a weight presses against her body, her legs, her stomach, her chest.
A hand clasps around hers, ceasing her movements, and bringing it to rest by her side.
She laments the loss of the friction against her bud, her pleasure pulled away from her, but in its place anticipation blooms within her.
When she opens her eyes he is above her, against her, hovering his face over hers so that all she sees are his eyes, one violet, one sapphire.
“You have my attention,” he says in a soft but unsettling voice.
A thrill ripples through her body.
She whispers his name on an exhale of breath, running her fingertips over his arms, tense and toned as his props himself over her. 
But she is somewhat dazed, her senses numbed by fatigue and the echo of the pleasure she had been chasing.
“Is this real?” she utters.
Aemond leans further into her. She feels a weight between her hips and an unmistakable hardness prodding at her centre as he brings his lips to her neck, pressing a slow, teasing kiss against a sensitive spot of skin that has her body tensing and her fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Does if feel real?” he whispers against her skin.
How much has he truly seen of her dreams, her desires, she wonders? Perhaps she should feel some kind of shame, but she cannot, not when she is on the precipice of something bright, beautiful and damning. She can hardly stand being on the edge of it, having him so close but not close enough.
She wraps her arms around his neck as he teases her with his lips, crosses her legs around his hips, meeting his movements as he torturously grinds his hardening cock against her cunt, dripping with arousal, twitching and clenching around nothing at the anticipation.
“Needy little thing,” he mutters, dragging his nose along her neck as he comes to kiss the hollow of her throat.
His voice sends a shockwave through her body. Her hips buck against his, determined for relief as her fingers thread through the soft strands of his hair, and tug. 
He lets out a quiet growl against her skin. A hand rests upon her thigh and trails up, bunching the hem of her nightgown to her waist and adjusting the other side. 
He sits back, watching her with the same darkness and intensity as when he was trapped inside the cage, intrigued at the least, fascinated if she is presumptive. 
The irony of being laid half bare before him and at his mercy does not escape her.
“I’ve heard you crying out for me, little mortal,” he says. 
“You said you can see my dreams,” she says, “how?”
“Your dreams exist in my realm,” he says, “in The Dreaming. I see your dreams as I see the dreams of every other being. I feel them, as clearly as you perceive the waking world. But you…” he muses, settling his hands on either side of her waist. “You are incessant.”
She shivers and writhes under his touch, a pulsing heat settling within her.
She traces her hands over his, where they grip at her waist, along his smooth skin, the tendons and veins. His fingers are long and lithe. She knows they would feel so perfect, wrapped around her throat, stroking over her skin, pushing inside of her wet heat to coax her pleasure.
Aemond smiles to himself as though he can hear her thoughts.
He grips harder into her flesh and pulls his hips back, only to let his cock slide over her slick folds with teasingly gentle thrusts.
Every stroke pushes her closer and closer to the edge, but not enough to find release. She feels the frustrating want pulsing through her body, the coil getting tighter and tighter, her cunt clenching over nothing.
“Aemond…” she says with a breathless mewl, “please…”
“You really want it, don’t you?” Aemond growls, resting his forehead against hers. “Just feel how wet that empty little cunt is for me.”
Her eyes trail along the angles of his face, the line of his scar, the night sky in his eyes as he stares down at her, the gentle curve of his lips and how they settle into a soft expression. 
Her gaze slips further down, over his throat, his collar, his pale, bare chest, the ridges of the muscles on his abdomen, the slight dip in his waist, the trail of silver hair to his cock, long, hard and flushed with need, transfixed by the way it moves against her.
She holds her breath each time he withdraws, stifling her whines into his mouth when he only keeps teasing her.
“I want it,” she groans, “I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.”
He lets out a contented hum as he leans down to kiss her. The movements of his mouth are slow and consuming, claiming her with lips, tongue and teeth, wetness and warmth.
She holds him close by the sides of his face. In his violet eye she sees his hunger, his rage, his lust. In his sapphire, she sees oblivion. 
And finally, he eases himself into her. 
He fucks her delicately, dragging his cock through her gently, slowly, deeply. His lips ghost over her skin, her temple, her cheek, back to her mouth with light kisses and strained but soft breaths. 
With a few deft circles over her bud she feels herself come undone around him. Her climax burns through her and she holds him closer for purchase, digging her fingertips into his skin as her resolve melts and her legs tremble around his hips.
Aemond doesn’t stop. He holds her against the mattress with a determined grip, fucking her through her peak until her pleasure settles and simmers once more.
Being kissed by him, held by him, fucked by him feels light a dream, that weightless, numb feeling of being between consciousness and sleep coursing through her limbs. It feels good, it feels deep, it feels perfect.
She cannot be sure how many climaxes he draws from her, she just feels him, his heat, his hands and his skin as he repositions her legs, guides her onto her front, brings her up to her knees, pushes her back down again, until she is a blissful, mindless mess.
He meets his own end when he has her face down on the bed, her face turned to the side against the pillow, his mouth on the underside of her jaw as he pounds into her. 
“You’re doing so well,” she hears him rasp, “you’ve been so good to me… fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
Her mind is beyond words and coherent thoughts. She utters the only thing she feels, the only thing she can think of, “Aemond… Aemond… Aemond…”
He stills his hips against her rear with a guttural moan, pressing his face against hers, squeezing her waist under his hands. He allows himself a few more shallow thrusts until he is spent. She feels his cock pulse within her, a warmth pooling, his spend dripping from her cunt once he has pulled away.
The weight dissipates from her back and for a moment she lies there, basking in the afterglow, feeling her chest rise and fall against the bed, the softness of her sheets under her fingertips.
She wakes to a gentle breeze running over her skin and slipping down her spine.
She allows her eyes to flutter open and recoils at the pale sunlight beaming through the spaces in the curtains. 
She holds her breath.
She hears no sound or sign of life other than her own pulse. 
She twists herself to sit up, noting that her bedsheets are neat and the hem of her nightgown is where it should be. 
Is it possible that she dreamed it? She remembers it so vividly, but the mind has a way of playing tricks. Perhaps it was only a dream.
“Your dreams exist in my realm,” he had said. “I feel them, as clearly as you perceive the waking world.”
How do we determine what is real? she wonders as she pulls on a robe and goes to open the curtains. The morning floods her bedroom. It brings no warmth, but it brings light and life back into the room. 
To dream is to live beyond ourselves, why should that be any less true than the world around me? 
She seats herself before her vanity, reaching for the drawer for her hairbrush.
But something catches her eye, a glint of colour against mahogany wood, a small gem catching the sunlight.
She takes it between her thumb and index finger and brings it before her eyes; a sapphire, the size of a pearl, a deep and vibrant blue. Its edges are uneven and dull, uncut, as though plucked straight from the earth. 
She turns it about between her fingers. It could be a trick of the light, but there is depth to it, a vastness within. The sapphire seems to capture the night sky, dotted with glimmering stars.
His was the same.
As the dazed state of sleep wears off, she feels the satisfied ache between her legs, the spots on her skin marked by him. She smiles to herself and holds the gem in her palm, this precious gift, this reminder, this promise from the Lord of Dreams.
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Tags (comment to be added)
Sweet Dream taglist: @solisarium @sirenangelroyal @sabrinasstar @shygardengalaxy @aemondsfavouritebastard @wintrr13 @thedamewithabook @lexwolfhale @rainyforest777
General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria
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kitorin · 8 months
Text
journal.
in which, itoshi rin's midnight writing exposes what he's kept concealed from you.
contents. itoshi rin x reader, 2.878 k words, fluff, angst (in the past), itoshi backstory spoilers (mixed with a few headcanons), 1st person rin pov for a bit (journal entry), regular highschool au
a/n. is this my best? no. but is it the best i have for today? yes. happy birthday to rin <3 after assignments are done i'll definitely rewrite this (i gave up on proofreading)
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10 / 09 / 2023 : SUNDAY, 12:04 am - 3:21 am
Solitude has never been a foreigner.
In fact, he's quite a familiar individual, an old companion that never seems to leave.
Even before Nii chan left for Spain, solitude was still there for me. During class I wouldn't utter a word to anyone else unless necessary, and contrariwise for said classmates. People still spoke to me; just not to the extent that they'd know what my favourite foods were, or what I liked to watch in my free time, not even bothering with it. I've never been invited to hang out with anyone after school, or been to someone else's house (not that I particularly cared, I was just sure that I was the only one).
But I was okay with it. I didn't want, or need anyone else when Nii chan bought me ice blocks, giving me the bigger piece as we'd watch the sun's warm hues bleed into the sky; the saccharine iciness contrasting how warm is was to be swallowed by sunlight together. Dad took us fishing a lot, he's always been well acquainted with the sea, taking us to locations well populated by bream; my favourite. On our way home we'd harvest kelp (Nii chan likes it in rice, salted) and take photos together on our yacht, admiring how the sun greets the world farewell, sinking into the aquamarine. Mum makes amazing food, I'm constantly astonished at how she manages to memorise every preference, from my love for ochazuke to being able to pour the perfect amount of tea; the rice never becomes too soggy (even I can't pour the exact amount I like). Solitude was close to me, but my family were closer.
There's a lot I could say about them, they've done more than remember what I love and ensuring I was happy; I'm thankful they've delivered the right for me to be comforted, to have a shoulder to cry on, to be able to freely ramble on about whatever fascinated me.
I've always been happy, even if I'm alone outside of the walls I call home. Because whether I laughed my heart out or sobbed to the point I couldn't form a coherent sentence, I'd always come home running to my family. Nothing can beat dinner; where we all relish mum's food, ask each other about our days' and offer solace or advice when necessary.
I miss that. Terribly, to the point my heart aches.
I knew that Nii chan's departure to Europe (Spain, to be exact) would change a lot. I'd have to score without his guidance, walk home alone and buy my own popsicles. Dinner time would have one less soul to laugh with, and home would have one less to embrace.
I just never expected it to be painful change. I never predicted that his return would result in losing us entirely. I didn't think his homecoming would cause my immortal resentment towards the snow, or how my eyes prickle a bit at the mere thought of an ice block. I'd say it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me, separation from him following it on the list of my worst experiences.
Solitude avoided me at home, but wasn't enough.
One time on the way home, I was overhearing the team's conversations (nothing particularly new really) and it was a discussion about the future. It was honestly surprising to find out only some of us intended to become soccer players; Nagi would rather stream or compete in professional gaming, Kurona wants to study marine biology in uni, and Yukimiya wants to give acting a go along with his modelling career. Even Isagi has a plan for if professional soccer isn't an option. He said he wanted to help others achieve their dreams if he fails to do so himself.
I remained silent as always, but had a lot more thoughts racing through my mind. Retreating to my room immediately that night, my first thought was to lie in bed, to neglect the clips I planned to analyse, to ignore muscle training for today and to slack off a bit. That's when I realized how sad the life I was living. I was sad because I was reminded of my reality.
I'm a mere myriad of distinguished achievements, though a hideous attempt of replicating genius Itoshi Sae. I'm a collection of formidable accomplishments, basking in the spotlight of glory and honour. The trophies and awards adorning my room prove it, standing tall with pride and flaunting my hard work.
That didn't mean anything. I had remained in a constant cycle of training, eating, and sleeping. My teammates were just as ambitious yet still worked hard on other things; Yukimiya enjoys modelling and Reo has a passion for economics, That must've been where I was lacking.
That's how I ended up writing again. It was an attempt to break out of this cyclical torture of constant training and sports.
I don't know how I remembered it, but I found my notebook from primary, all the stories messily scrawled yet legible. Scarlet adorned narratives birthed from child-like imagination, eulogising the prose, even though I almost flinched out of embarrassment.
Flipping through the pages, I had found the paragraph my teacher left me, insisting that I keep writing. Obviously, I never did. After getting into soccer I ignored everything school related, and would've found words on a page foolish anyways.
Many years later, I finally followed that advice.
The end result wasn't pretty. I paused a lot, struggled a lot, and almost gave up, a lot. It may have been hideous, but it was mine. A piece birthed from curiosity and memories from the past turned into another attempt. Another attempt morphed into extensive reading, I wanted to observe what was considered worthwhile or meaningless.
Writing rewove the early nights into late night reading, fully immersed in the author's thoughts translated into prose. Reading was the push to giving academics a go. Academics pulled me out of the endless cycle of soccer, there was more to life than training and diet regulation.
Books I can read. Words I can write. Exams I can study for and sports I can practice. Weights I can lift and competitions I can train for.
But to be loved, is so difficult.
It's not like an exam that you can study for and simply memorise the answers to. Or a match that has the security of a referee and reinforced rules. It's not something that can be guaranteed with a mentor.
People treat Isagi to his favourite whenever he has a bad day (he likes kintsuba). People advocate their favourite novels to Yukimiya and Chigiri, even going as far as memorising their preferences to curate their recommendations flawlessly. It must be nice, for someone to invest that sort of effort in you, even if it's simply remembering a hobby.
As my peers savoured the allure of love, estrangement and desolation constantly haunted me; a pest habituating the sleepless nights where I try to escape with a cup of coffee that's long gone cold.
It's lukewarm, praying for another's attention, care and love, to be hungry for one's time. I pathetically plead whoever manipulating my fate to provide me some sort of human connection. I shouldn't be so hopeful of others, yet I find myself dying of curiosity; what would it be like for someone to remember my birthday? Or tell me about the horror movie they adored?
I despise solitude's clinginess. But I hate how it makes me sob endlessly when no one watches.
I have myself. I have my thoughts which I've transcribed to oeuvre. I have the pile of books resting on my bedside table which sleep alongside with me. I have the trophies and awards I've won, I'll always appreciate my own talent and diligence, even if playing soccer brought me so much pain.
I think I'm somewhat pretty. I find my prominent eyelashes special to me, it's something unique to both me and Nii chan. My physique isn't too bad, either. I like the way my legs look, and my shoulders as I dry my hair.
I've always been proud of myself. I've always been enough and I always will be. Just not for others.
That's why I never expected my bond with solitude to be severed so easily. Especially because of y/n out of all people.
I still don't get how it happened. The oblivion to their presence became a peculiar first impression. An odd first meeting turned into abrupt yet regular greetings amidst hallways. Soon, I was sitting with them in every class, passing notes during tedious lessons and discussing our favourite media on the bus ride home.
Before I knew it, passionate rambles about books turned into watching movies together in my room. Whenever they greeted me their friendly wave was replaced with a tight hug, passing notes in class were accompanied with subtle kisses on the cheek.
Our relationship as friends was reimagined to lovers.
Something must've possessed me to blurt out the stupid crush I had on them, and I thank whatever drove me to do that. As awkward as I was it doesn't compare to the skip of my heartbeat when they accepted my feelings.
It's been almost a year since I met them, yet I still feel hot whenever they hold my hand, and flush red at every compliment they whisper. I still find myself stuttering sometimes whenever they're showing me a new outfit they've styled.
I love the way they smile, the creases of joy that adorn the outer corner of their eyes, and how they squint with glee and the sweet, melodious laughter that accompanies it; how breathless they sound whilst laughing. The expression they wear when deep in thought fascinates me, even if it's midway through an exam or them simply observing a video Bachira sent them. I adore their late night thoughts they text me at 3 am, the fatigue itching my eyes seem to evaporate when I notice their name on the notification. I treasure the notes we've scrawled on spare sheets of paper, they're still in between the pages of my books.
Even now, they're sleeping soundly in my bed, arms wrapped around the plush I bought them; I keep getting distracted by the sight of them so relaxed, chest rising up and down with each breath.
I would die for them. Because now I don't need to pretend to be invested on my phone to look less lonely. Now, I don't need to put my bag on the seat next to me to make it look like I sit alone by choice. I don't have to persuade the teacher to let me do group projects alone, or have to observe others with jealousy. Someone defends me from disparaging comments.
Because now, I'm not alone.
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7:15 am
THE ENTRY COMES TO AN END, AND EMBARASSMENT DUSTS Rin's face a faint tint of pink. His eyes avoid contact with yours— as he waits for your input his latest piece.
"Well? What do you think?"
You're not sure where to start. You've always known about his strained relationship with his older brother, and how his friendship with his teammates wasn't the same in the beginning. But he never explained it in detail; you wouldn't've guessed that he had some sort of chionophobia, or even cried because he felt so secluded from others. The thought of him concealing his tears and pain from the rest of the world made your eyes prickle and sends your heart racing miserably.
"Doesn't matter—" He reaches for the notebook, closing it and tossing it onto his desk. "Forget it, you didn't see anything." He plops backwards again, head hitting the pillow and groaning as he covers his face with his forearm. "It was shit anyways, I'll rip it out and toss it later."
"It wasn't."
Rin stays silent.
You lie down, mimicking his current position and cup his cheeks with your hand. "You'll never be alone again—, I promise you that." Your voice falters ever so slightly, the thought of his pain makes you feel weak in the knees and sick to the stomach. "You're more than enough, you always have and always will be. You don't need anyone's validation to be beautiful, you never did."
Rin sighs, "I'm only like that because of you." Yet something seems to throb in his heart, the small but overpowering part of him that insists he requires another's approval to be important— someone finally proving that wrong.
"That's not true."
"Yes it is, our classmates still loathe me, so do people who barely see or speak to me." There was no lie in that; but it wasn't Rin's fault. "Yoichi and the others only spend time with me because of you."
"I was only the push for them to speak to you, you know they've always cared, they were just too nervous to speak to you. As competitive as he gets, Yoichi really admires you, to the point he gets so heated and ends up rambling about your skills." That's a secret that was supposed to remain in your private messages, but Yoichi doesn't need to know.
Satisfaction momentarily appears on Rin's face at the thought of his rival's great respect, though it doesn't last very long.
"He's my teammate so it's expected... everyone I speak to at school seems to have something against me, even our English teacher." The mistreatment at school is undeniable, it's not exactly bullying but there's no respect or human decency in how people behave towards him.
"Rin, love, you've done nothing wrong, hate isn't always rational. There will always be people who can't stand seeing others more successful, and that's not your fault."
"Really?" His eyes light up; despite having a sophisticated and cold demeanour all the time, he looks like a child again, hope dances in his wide eyes.
"Really." Your fingers take advantage of the opportunity and pinch his cheeks gently. "Don't listen to all those stupid rumours and assumptions, idiot. I'd fight anyone who tries to hurt you and win every time."
When your fingers let go he immediately kisses you, and it leaves you breathless; the way he pulls you in flexes his well toned biceps and his hand supports your head.
"Thank you." Rin whispers, pulling away a bit. "Thank you for appreciating me. Thank you for everything." It's a rare occurrence for him to sound so frail, same goes for the tremble of his bottom lip.
"Of course, I love you more than anything."
"I love you too." It's escorted by a peck on your nose, and a soft expression sculpted on his face.
Before Rin can throw a blanket over the two of you again, you interrupt.
"You shouldn't throw that entry away." You still haven't forgotten his initial intention with it. "I don't get why you think it's shit."
"It's rushed. And it's just me waffling on about my feelings and the past. There's no proofreading, and it's rushed. It's not even complete either."
"That's the whole point of writing, no? It's the expression of our words and thoughts." You reach towards his desk to pick up the notebook. "Not everything has to be written in one sitting, too."
Rin doesn't bother stopping you from looking through the notebook at this point. "It's still stupid. It's just that I had the urge and motivation to write in the dead of night."
"Well. I like it."
Rin's stoic expression crumbles, revealing the bashful side he keeps concealed from the world. "Then that's good enough for me." The red on his cheeks tell you that you've won the argument.
You turn back to the entry page, impressed with his barely legible yet pretty handwriting. "You should've slept instead."
"I don't get tired anyways." He's quickly betrayed by the yawn clawing out of his throat.
"Liar. Why would you stay up writing so late... your sleep is important you know?"
"Because you are love itself. I won't get a wink of sleep if it means I can think and write about you instead." Rin's pulls you in again, tossing his notebook elsewhere as he leans in. "I promise I'll finish that entry, no— I'll write a book about you one day."
"Writing this, writing that, sleep first dumbass." A smile tugs at your lips as you pull Rin back into the position you were cuddling in a few hours ago. Even though you were the one who slept a lot more, fatigue itched your eyes, and a yawn spilled out too.
In response, Rin tosses a blanket over the two of you, whispering good night as you begin to nod off a bit. He should rest too, he has training tomorrow and has to go to the gym as well.
The Itoshi Rin from before would've slept immediately. In fact, he wouldn't've stayed up in the first place, let alone date someone. But the Itoshi Rin now instead stares at you, admiring each and every feature of yours. You're his savior, the luminescent moon irradiating his world, guiding him away from the grasps of solitude and embracing him with love instead.
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Tagging: @yuzurins (yumi you inspired this fic btw lol)
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© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
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annymation · 2 months
Text
The Tale of A Witch and A Prince.
"Kingdom of Wishes- Wish Rewrite" Prequel
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It's time to FINALLY talk about Amaya's backstory! AND HOW THE EVIL COUPLE WE LOVE TO HATE MET! WOOOO!
So here's how this will work, this will be ONE chapter, summarizing where Amaya came from and what led her to Rosas, how her and young Magnifico met, and how they started dating. If you think that's interesting, then come along! And I'll tell you their twisted fairytale!
IMPORTANT: This is purely based on Magnifico and Amaya from my rewrite, if you're new here and haven't read it yet... Well this might not be for ya, it's just gonna be kinda confusing, but hey, here's the link for my Wish rewrite.
Also, here’s how everyone in this story looks, thank you @uva124 for drawing these amazing designs!
Part 1- A Provincial Life
Once upon a time, in a simple village in Athens, Greece, there lived a beautiful, kind and generous young girl, called Amaya.
Amaya was hard working, always helping her family with chores such as cleaning, cooking and taking care of farm animals and anything else that they needed her help with.
However, she wanted more for herself than that, not necessarily anything grand. She just didn't find enjoyment in these simple activities, specially taking care of the animals. She hated farm animals.
But those responsibilities were expected of her, she had to be useful in the community, and she wanted to, she wanted to help others and make her family proud, she wanted to fit in more than anything, but she wanted to do that her own way.
One day, Amaya went to explore away from her village, and she found an abandoned temple, that used to preach Circe, the Goddess of sorcery. Amaya was curious, so she went inside, and in there she found many scrolls containing potion recipes for all sorts of things: potions for healing, changing one's appearance, improving in a talent, making someone more fortunate… And even make someone fall in love.
She was fascinated, in that temple she found everything there was to know about potion brewing. Amaya was already a very studious girl, she loved to read, and she also loved gardening, and understanding plants is a big part about making potions.
So she decided to give it a try.
And thus, she discovered her calling. Amaya started out secretly practicing potion making, and as her talent grew, she began to share it with the people.
She could finally be useful in her own way, and fulfill her deepest wish... Make others happy.
Everyone loved it, Amaya shared her potions for free, to aid the ill, give better voices to aspiring singers, make elders feel younger, make the food taste better, her people couldn’t be more thankful.
She gained the respect of her town, and many friends too, everything was wonderful... But... She still felt like there was something missing, yes, the people loved her for her talent, but she couldn't help but feel that the people didn’t love her… For who she was... She was surrounded by people, but she felt alone.
She wondered if she’d ever meet someone that loved her regardless of what she could give them... And sure enough, she did meet someone.
Adonis was Amaya’s first love. She met the handsome lad when she was an young adult, and he loved her deeply for who she was. He never asked her for a potion, no favors, all he wanted was her company, to listen to her talk, and admire her beauty. Amaya was absolutely smitten, and she didn’t want to ever let go of this feeling. The girl felt like she finally found her happily ever after...
But we all know that’s not how her story ends. For that ever after was taken away from her...
There was another girl in the village who also loved Adonis, her name was Harmona. The girl grew jealous, so one day she asked Amaya for a love potion, and Amaya, so naive, made her one with no reservations, after all Harmona was her friend, so she trusted that the potion would be used wisely.
She couldn't have predicted what her "friend" did next.
One day, when she was picking some flowers to her love... She found him and the girl sharing a tender kiss. Amaya could only watch, frozen in her grief and heartbreak, as the girl smiled maliciously at her and handed to Amaya an empty flask of love potion...
Amaya tried to hold her once lover by his arm, begging him to resist the spell... But Adonis didn't even turn to look at her... She was sobbing and he didn't listen.
He was gone.
Amaya spiraled down into depression. Completely lost in her heartbreak and misery.
Days went by with her making no potions for the people in the village. Some friends tried to give her support... But it didn't take long for some of them to ask her when would she prepare the potions they asked for.
... Amaya realized... Those "friends" didn't care about her, no one in that village ever did... Only he did... And now he's gone.
They all just wanted to use her.
The kind hearted girl was gone, her heart turned into stone. She vowed to never let anyone else take advantage of her ever again, and she would make them all feel the same pain that she was feeling, if not worse.
It was the day of the harvest-festival, a day to celebrate the goddess Demeter and share their plentiful crops and fruits, the people joyfully gathered to feast... And then, it began.
The curses.
Some people started aging rapidly, others became depressed, some lost their sanity, their memories and even their sight, but most were turned into animals.
Any other curse you can imagine was casted upon them.
Amaya had poisoned the crops with the most wicked potions she could find in those scrolls. She couldn't stop laughing watching the chaos unfold around her.
"What's the matter?! I thought you all wanted more of my potions!"
The few villagers that managed to resist the curses tried to capture her, but Amaya had already planned everything for her escape. She prepared a boat and left it ashore with food and water, she'd sail off far away from Athens, leave everything she ever knew behind.
Amaya managed to escape. All she could hear as she sailed away were the screams of the people she once called friends, neighbors and even family, all of them calling her:
A witch.
Part 2- The King and The Prince
After months of travel, only stopping by in a few islands to rest, and then sail off farther and farther away, Amaya eventually got lost at sea, and she was caught by a storm that sent her off her course. She was passed out on the boat when she was found... By a fishing boat, with a flag that had a Rose insignia.
When she woke up, she was laying on the most comfortable bed she ever felt... She looked around and realized she was in a lavish room, that could only be fit for a castle.
"Ah, veo que finalmente te despertaste!" A young and cheerful voice said from next to her, speaking in a language she didn't understand.
The girl got startled, and she quickly turned to the sight of a young man wearing royal attire. His hair was shoulder length and black as ebony, his skin white as snow, and his smile was friendly and innocent. The young man was sitting next to the bed on a comfortable chair while reading a book.
He looked sorry for scaring her and seemed to apologize, but Amaya still couldn't understand him
"No entiendes ni una palabra de lo que digo, ¿verdad? Espera, sé qué hacer" He starts to move his hands, and Amaya's eyes widen in shock as she sees blue magic flowing from his fingertips, he looks at her reassuringly that there's nothing to fear before snapping his fingers, making the magic go straight to Amaya's heart and enchant her.
She doesn't feel anything different, until he speaks again.
"There, that should do it!" The sorcerer said joyfully "Now, let's try this again-"
The young man introduced himself as King Florian of Rosas.
The king explained to Amaya that his men found her adrift at sea, and he requested she'd be brought to the castle immediately so he could be of assistance. He told her he was a sorcerer, a wish granting sorcerer, and it was his sworn duty to make sure all the people in his kingdom had their wish granted... That is, unless they felt like they could grant their wish by themselves, which the young king greatly encouraged too.
Amaya thought it was quite odd for a king to be so... Young.
He was younger than her. He was 19, and she was 24. She asked if he had lost his parents too soon or something. The king explained that no, he just so happens to be the heir that was more... Qualified for the job... Florian realized he accidentally spoke too much and asked her to keep that between them, his older brother wouldn't like other people knowing about that.
"Anyway! Enough about me, I’m sure your story is way more interesting, right? Please, do tell! What got you on that boat? Where do you come from?" The king asks curious, crossing his legs and leaning closer to her, excited to hear all the details.
The girl knows very well that she can't tell this king anything about her past... So, she pulls an innocent girl act, which comes naturally to her as not long ago she was an innocent girl herself
"I... I rather not speak about it, your majesty... It's all far too painful to even put into words" Her voice cracks and she looks at him like she's about to cry.
The king's eyes are full of pity "That's alright, all that matters is that you're safe now, far from whatever you had to run away from. You may tell me what that was when you're ready." He comforts her, talking quite maturely for his age.
Amaya gives him a gentle smile, this king is quite adorable... And gullible. If she plays her cards right, and manages to brew some love potion... She just might become the queen of this land.
"You're so kind, your majesty. How may I ever repay you?" She asked giving him an alluring look that could put a siren to shame.
"Oh perish the thought! You have nothing to repay haha I'm just making sure you feel welcomed here in Rosas!" He says gleefully, completely missing that Amaya tried to flirt with him, to her disappointment "Which reminds me, we must get you settled here in the kingdom at once, I can give you a tour an-"
Then, they heard a voice coming from outside of the room, shouting with rage:
"FLORIAN! Now where's that little- How many times must I tell you to NOT get near my half of the study?! I found one of your books in there! DID YOU LOOK THROUGH MY THINGS?!"
The girl was surprised by the yelling, and ponders who'd dare to speak with the king of the nation like that.
The young king just gave her an embarrassed smile and said
"Heh heh please forgive my brother, he has... Uh... A bit of a temper sometimes."
A tall man with dark brown hair wearing royal clothes just like Florian's barged through the door
"There you are! Now explain wh-" The man stops when he sees Amaya laying on the bed.
... Amaya eyes widen when she sees the handsome man at the door... Her heart skips a beat… She felt something... Something she didn't feel in quite a while... But somehow, it was even more intense this time.
The two stare at each other mouth agape for a moment with Florian sitting between them looking side to side awkwardly, so he breaks the silence:
"... *Ahem* Amaya, this is my older brother, Prince Magnus. Magnus, this is Amaya, the girl found by the fisherman that I told you about this morning... Or did you forget?" Florian asks with an eyebrow raised, already used to his brother not listening to him most of the time.
Magnus blinks a few times like he just snapped out of a trance, his previous anger vanished completely and is replaced by an almost shy smile as he bows respectfully to her "It indeed slipped my mind that we'd be in the company of a guest today, so pleased to make your acquaintance."
Florian looks surprised with how polite his brother was, usually he'd just find an excuse to leave the room whenever there were people visiting the castle... He turns to Amaya and sees how she was blushing, her eyes sparkled while she stared at his brother.
... Oh... Florian smiles widely knowing just what to do.
"SAY! Amaya, I just realized, I haven't asked for your wish yet!" The young king says excitedly
"... My wish?" She turns to the king, also snapping out of her love struck trance "Is- Is giving you my wish a requirement to live here?" she asks concerned, knowing that if the king takes a look into her now tainted heart’s truest desires he might get suspicious of her.
"Oooh no! Hahah of course not, it's your own decision. But I have a gut feeling you know just what it is, so I might as well grant it, right?" Florian discreetly gives his brother a wink like he's doing his big brother a huge favor
Said big brother has no clue what that wink was about, so he just looks very confused.
Amaya thinks... She wants to get this king to fall in love with her... But then again, his brother is way more gorgeous, maybe she cou-NO, nononono no she couldn't! She couldn't let herself fall in love again, besides, marrying his brother wouldn't make her a queen... Unless she killed Florian... WHICH WOULD BE AN UNNECESSARY RISK!- NO she had to listen to her head! She had to think what would be the easiest way to get closer to the king and give him a love potion?... Working in the palace.
"I don't think your magic will be required to grant my wish, your highness. All I wish is to show my gratitude for your hospitality, perhaps if I could... Offer my services here in the castle-"
"Done. What can you do?" Florian accepts in a heartbeat.
Amaya is surprised by how quickly he accepted, she thought she'd have to convince him a bit, but okay, she rolls with it "Oh- well, I can... I can..." She thinks for a moment, she really doesn't want to return to those chores she had in her past life, of cleaning and cooking... Would he grow skeptical if she told him she was a potion maker?... He was naive, so maybe "I can brew potions." She says casually.
The two brothers both raise their eyebrows at that, Florian asks in shock "As in... MAGIC potions?"
Amaya realizes she may just have blown her chances, but she continues "Y-yes, but-"
"THAT'S PERFECT!" Florian jumps from the chair, absolutely ecstatic "Potion making was never one of my strengths! It's decided, you shall be my royal alchemist!" He announces enthusiastically, Amaya smiles at that, successfully getting just what she wanted "Did you hear that broth-" Florian turns to where Magnus was standing, but he's no longer there "... Aaaaand he's gone... *sigh*" Florian looks rather disappointed and then turns to Amaya "He always been more of an introvert, ya know? Hehe"
Amaya smiles at the young king, masking her true intentions with the same kindhearted expression she always had before her heart was broken. Now, all she had to do was bind her time, and soon, she’d go from a witch to a queen.
Part 3- In The Woods
Amaya was welcomed to stay in the palace until a new house was prepared just for her, sure, she could stay lodged at some family's house, but Florian insisted for her to stay in the castle in the mean time, she could sleep in the guest room on the west wing of the castle. How could she refuse? It was like the king wanted to make this easier for her.
Days went by, and she'd do everything to gain even more of Florian's trust... Not like that was hard, all she did was stay hours listening to him blabbering about the history of their kingdom, how important wishes are, how much he cared for his people and other stuff that Amaya had to try her hardest not to roll her eyes over.
... Oh, and his older brother was there too, but he mostly stayed silent in the background, only throwing some sarcastic remarks here and there during Florian's enthusiastic speeches, some that even got a chuckle out of Amaya.
He'd often observe Amaya very closely and attentively while she made her potions... She started to wonder if maybe he was on to her plans, after all, he seemed way less naive than his brother... Well, she could deal with him if he ever got in her way, though it would be such a waste to kill his pretty face she wouldn't let anyone get in her way.
After enough time had passed... Amaya started to put her plan into motion.
All she needed was the ingredients to make her love potion. She went into the woods to gather the last ingredients she required.
Amaya was humming sweetly as she gathered some herbs... But she wasn't alone thought, as she hears a voice coming from behind a tree
"Not that I think someone who traveled such a long distance as you did is helpless but..." The charming voice startled Amaya, she turns to the tree and sees Prince Magnus reveal himself, walking from behind it holding a rose "A maiden such as yourself shouldn't be walking all alone in the woods, care for some company?"
"Oh! Prince Magnus, what a surprise!" Amaya says innocently with a smile, hiding that internally she's wondering why would he follow her? Florian mentioned once how his brother never leaves the palace... He's definitely suspicious of her, so she keeps her little act "Of course! I'd be delighted hihihi" She giggles
"I'm glad to hear that, but please, do me a kindness and cut the act." He says it dryly with a knowing smug.
Amaya eyes widen at that, her face turns worried, but she quickly makes it so it looks like she's hurt by the king's comment and not that she just got caught
"Act? W-what do you mean by that, your majesty?" Her voice is filled with confusion
"Heh heh Oh please, you may have fooled my little brother, but you don't fool me... I know what you are." (🏳️‍🌈?) He keeps a distance from her while walking around the trees with his hands behind his back, his tone is casual like this is just some small talk.
Amaya is calculating her next moves in her head, maybe he's bluffing to get a confession out of her "What do you think I am?" she asks, genuinely curious to hear the answer, as she knows there's no way he knows the whole truth
"Weeeeeell allow me to share some deductions" He leans on a tree while looking at the rose on his hand, and starts to explain his thought process "When you arrived here, I noticed you were wearing a chiton, a garment commonly worn in Greece. Which is faaaar away from Rosas. So you made quite the voyage all on your own, as if you were running away from something." He gives her a look like he's very impressed, then he continues "One may think "Oh the poor thing, she must have been desperate to run far far away from some horrible people"... But I believe that, most often than not, the ones seen as wicked are the ones who run away the farthest."
Amaya feels a sweat run down her forehead "Your highness, do you think I'm a bad person?" She sounds heartbroken and places a hand on her chest
"I didn't say that." He smirks at her, still leaning on a tree "I said "SEEN as wicked" heheh but anyway, you're well versed in potion brewing, a talent that isn't exactly frowned upon there, I mean, followers of Circe and Hecate are all about it." Magnus wasn't as much of a bookworm as his brother, but he knew a thing or two about Greek Mythology, after all a king must know about not only their kingdom's culture but also all cultures that may visit the kingdom... Even though he never got to be king "However, it would be very frowned upon if... Used with ill intentions." He starts walking towards her now.
"I- I would never do such a thing! You got it all wrong!" She exclaims, trying her hardest to think of some sob story she can tell him to explain what made her leave her home "I'm- Uh- I just don't want to talk about-"
"My dear, please, I believe you're the one who got this all wrong" He holds her hand gently and kisses it "I just wish to know the real you." His blue eyes gaze at her passionately.
Amaya finally realizes... He's in love with her as well. And like she has been suspecting for a while now, he's not good intentioned like his brother, no, he wants the crown too...
And he wants to USE her to get it, just like they used her in the past.
Amaya finally does drop the act, her face goes cold and irritated as she pulls her hand away from his hold.
"Was that's really all it took for you to figure it out? My dress and the fact I make potions?" She asks, looking at him with her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.
Magnus actually looks pleased to see her in a different light.
"Actually, what really gave it away was you not giving your wish to my brother, all you wanted was to "work in the palace", pffft yeah right, once I heard that I knew... You want the crown... And so do I." He smiles devilish with that notion "So, since we both desire the same thing, I thou-"
"You want me to kill your brother so you'll be king, and then we get married, correct?" She interrupts him sharply, her eyes narrowed.
"That's right." He confirms with a grin "Now, I know it sounds sordid, but-"
"No." She cuts him off once again and just walks off into the woods to get her ingredients.
Magnus is surprised by that, quickly walking after her "W-why not? You'd get what you want, and you'd marry someone who actually understands you!"
The woman just laughs at that as she walks away from him "HAH! Understands me? You don't even know me!" She starts walking faster deeper into the forest
Magnus has a harder time to moving around, as he hasn't stepped foot in the forest since he was a boy, his mother used to take him there to have picnics.
(Shocker: Magnifico was a mamas boy)
"But I did just read you like an open book, did I not?" He asks confidently while trying to catch up to her "Come on, you feel it too, don't you? We are meant to be! And doesn't this sound like quite the fairytale? A bitter prince and a spellbinding witch-"
Amaya stops on her tracks when she hears that last word... Oh, she's gonna give this prince something worse than the slap in the face he deserves.
"WELL! Since we're reading each other like open books now, I suppose it's my turn." She turns to him with fire in her eyes, Magnus realizes he might've made the wrong choice of words as he locks his mouth shut "For you see "Your highness" I happen to also know EXACTLY what you are: A fraud." His eyes widen and he scrunches his eyebrows at that comment, Amaya smiles now that she finally got a reaction out of him "That's right, I noticed how your brother's hands always sparkle when he uses magic, while yours don't. And the very few times you did use magic to levitate a book or open a door, King Florian was conveniently hiding away, once even behind the thin curtains, from where I could SEE he was the one using magic, just helping create the illusion that it was YOU!" Magnifico cursed his brother internally for his incompetence, even though that was Florian's idea in the first place. "So once again, my answer is NO, I won't help you with your little regicide, just so you can get the crown that "daddy dearest" promised you when you were a little brat. I know your type, you'll throw me away as soon as the deed is done and I'm no longer of use to you!" She says that furious like she's trying to remind herself that this will happen if she follows her heart again.
Magnus looks shocked, no one has ever talked with him with such anger before... But he senses there's something more than anger in there. There is pain.
She was hurt before.
Amaya turns around, thinking maybe now the prince will get the message, but she's stopped by his voice
"Amaya, wait." He didn't call her by her name before... And hearing it come from him made her heart skip a beat for a moment, she's not facing him but she can hear his voice approaching "... Was your heart broken?" His voice is of genuine worry, no hint of malice or second intentions, because for once there are none.
Amaya feels her heart tighten with the question, she looks down as memories of what she once had start flooding back. "... That's none of your business" she says harshly, trying to mask her sadness.
"Alright... But I just need you to know, I would NEVER make you suffer. When I look at you, I don't see a peon to be used, I see the queen I've always dreamed of having by my side, to protect forever." He speaks gently and tries to hold her hand... And Amaya lets him, feeling her heart flutter with every word "... I understand what I propose is a great risk, for both of us... But I have a plan, and if- WHEN we succeed and rule over this land, I promise you, I'll give you the whole world and more!" He declares to her, probably the most honest words he has spoken in years.
Amaya takes in what he just said... There's more passion in his words than anything Adonis ever said to her... And most importantly, he makes her feel loved, for who she is.
Magnus sees her sad expression change into a comfortable smile, he looks at her in the eyes and offers her the rose he had brought with him "So, what do you say, my queen?"
Amaya looks at the rose... She does raise her hand to hold it but she stops herself... Who's to say he's being honest?
She looks at him intrigued "And why should I trust you?... Or rather, why should you trust me?" She inverts the question with a malicious smile now, and threatens him, just to see his reaction "Perhaps, once you're my little husband I might just put some poison in your tea.”
Magnus actually finds the threat quite enticing, and just tries to use it as a way to flirt... Somewhat. "Well, if you were my wife, I'd drink it." He says with a seductive voice.
Amaya's smile drops into a dumbfounded stare, as she doesn't understand what he means by that.
... Magnus realizes what he just said, his confidence vanishes and he awkwardly tries to explain what he meant by that "W-wait no!- I- I don't mean I'd want to DIE if we were married! Hahah- I uh I meant to say that IF you wanted me dead I'd gladly die for you! You know??? Is that cheesy???" He kept trampling over his words trying to explain himself.
Amaya looks at him nervously stutter away, blabbering about how he'd devotedly die for her... She smiles, and even giggles a little, amused by his sudden flustered state. Her eyes sparkle with fondness for the prince as she sighs. She knows now that she can trust him, he's not pretending to love her... And she's done pretending that she doesn't feel the same.
She grabs him by the collar of his royal vest "Shut up and kiss me, you fool."
She kissed him. The man's eyes widen for a moment in surprise but then he melts into her kiss like his bones are now made of jelly.
Once they break the kiss, Amaya looks at him wickedly and grabs the rose from his hand, feeling it's sent before she asks "So... You mentioned you had a plan?"
Magnus recovers from the kiss, and begins to smile just as deviously as they both gaze upon eachother’s eyes.
And 1 year later, they put their plan into motion...
But that's a story for another time.
(And that story is here, here’s how they killed him)
Final Thoughts
MAN! THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I THOUGHT!
Okayyyy so that was Amaya's long awaited backstory! And boy did it go through changes over time, I'm actually glad I took this long to share it because I had time to perfect it.
See, for a long time, Amaya's tale began in a typical fairytale setting, a provincial village like the one Belle lived, however, as I developed her design with @uva124 I realized it made a lot of sense to make her greek, because her story reflects Megara's, a young girl that wants to have nothing to do with love because her heart has been broken before. And her cursing a whole village after her boyfriend broke up with her? That's some vengeful greek goddess attitude, she actually reminds me a lot of Medea, look it up.
But speaking figures from greek mythology, the name Adonis for her ex wasn't random, see, initially I was just gonna make it a disney reference, so I looked up "Megara's ex" to see if he had a name, and sure enough, he does! He appeared in the Hercules TV show, and his name was Adonis. I decided to look up who is Adonis in greek mythology... And what I found could not have been more perfect:
"In Greek mythology, Adonis was the mortal lover of the goddesses Aphrodite and Persephone. Later, the two goddesses began to compete for the boy's company, and had to submit to Zeus' sentence. He stipulated that he would spend a third of the year with each of them, but Adonis, who preferred Aphrodite, also spent the remaining third with her. This myth gives rise to the idea of ​​the annual vegetation cycle, with the seed remaining underground for four months."
... Do you see it??? Adonis got them girls FIGHTING!!! Zeus had to intervene!
Anyway, this mirrors my story so perfectly its hilarious. With Amaya being Persephone, who later married Hades, who happens to be a big inspiration on Magnifico's character (The Disney Hades I mean) it's like it was written in the stars.
Then there's Harmona, the girl who stole Adonis, her name is to reference "Harmony", the daughter of Aphrodite and Ares. And Harmona just sounds like a evil name to me, so it fits.
About Amaya herself though, I love this woman so much, girl really cursed a whole population and then dipped out into the ocean like freakin Moana. Then as soon as she got rescued by a king she was like "Oh I can pull a gold digger scheme here" Like girl is not playing, she's done being a disney princess she wants power, I respect that.
And Florian, this lil OC that I love so much. Poor guy was Magnifico x Amaya (Magaya?) first shipper, all he wanted was to be a good wing man for his big bro, and that got him killed. Tragic.
But in all seriousness, Florian is such an interesting character for me to write, cause in a way, he's a mix of Asha and Aster. He has Asha's ideals of people being allowed to grant their own wishes, which was something that he encouraged people to do, and also Aster's cheerfulness and innocence.
Also he's straight up male Snow White, not just in how he looks but also personality wise... And cause of death wise.
Now, I mentioned a LOOOONG time ago how Asha kinda mirrors Amaya, and how Magnifico kinda mirrors Aster.
Well, now I can finally show what I meant. Asha and Amaya wished for the same thing, to fit in, and to make other's happy.
Amaya in chapter 5 is the one who suggests how they should change Asha's wish, almost like she's eager to destroy it, because it reminds her of herself, she sees a younger version of herself in Asha. She wants Asha to go through the same pain she went through, of facing the reality that in the end, trying to please others in order to fit in is pointless, no matter how many people are around you, you're still all alone.
The word "Alone" is kind of a theme with Amaya in the rewrite
When Amaya confronts Asha in the plaza, she says "But you miscalculated, my dear, for we are mighty, and you? You are all alo-"
Then right before she says the word Aster pushes her away from Asha.
Then near the finale, Amaya is about to strike Asha withe a sword, and she says
"I'm afraid this is where your story ends, with you... All alone"
Then Dahlia kicks her like "SHUT UP WITCH!"
So point is, Asha was never alone, even if Amaya really wanted to make her feel that way, the same way she felt alone all those years ago.
Thing is that maybe Amaya wasn't even alone for real, she's an un-reliable narrator there, not because she's lying but because her mind was so distressed that she THOUGHT her friends didn't care about her, but that was paranoia. Asha did have a whole kingdom thinking she was a weirdo, but she still kept her head high and cherished her friends, that's what makes her different from Amaya.
About Aster and Magnifico though, it's way more simple, as they're both more simple characters when it comes to their backstories honestly.
Aster wanted to prove himself to be just as good as the other stars, but wanted to do things his way, he did, and he got his happy ending because of that
Magnifico wanted to prove himself to be just as good as the kings that came before him, but he wanted to do things his way, by not granting wishes and not learning magic because it was too hard for him... And he didn't get his happy ending because of that, he got replaced by his little brother.
So basically, what differentiates Aster and Magnifico, how the world around them reacted to their actions, and how they reacted to the world.
How a character deals with trauma is what differentiates them from a hero to a villain.
Let's see... Anything elseeee... Oh yeah, the way that Amaya held Adonis arm and cried for him to look at her is a parallel to Amaya and Magnifico's pose when they're turning into statues, she re-lived that exact moment again, with the man that promised to "Never make her suffer". And Aster makes a comment to Magnifico about how "Then you don't love her, all you want is to use her" and that REALLY stings on Mag exactly because he promised to never use her.
So you see, this whole story re-contextualizes a whole lot of stuff in the rewrite... Or not, maybe I'm just losing my mind, anyway, see you guys next time, my job is far from over with these characters! But I'll try to do something Asha x Aster related now because this was A LOT of villain couple for my system.
Thank You For Reading!
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