#Dimi Drabbles

[muffinsin]

Hey, how about their female s/o gave birth a few weeks ago and is breastfeeding the baby. This turns on the Dimi sisters (GP) but they don't want to admit it so their s/o does something about it.

This reminds me of an ask/thought/drabble I’ve had once! Let’s get into it! :)

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Masterlist 3

Bela

She smiles coyly as she watches you nurse. It really, really shouldn’t turn her on as much as it did, but she just can’t help but push her legs together and cover her crotch with her hands.

She can feel the visible bulge under her hands, pushing up her dress.

Bela bites her lip as she watches, enthralled and teased all the same. She doesn’t think she could ever voice her thoughts on this, though.

She so desperately wishes it was her that had your nipple in her mouth. To taste…she shivers. The thought alone embarrasses and arouses her at the same time.

Unbeknownst to her, she is not as subtle as she might believe. Her squirming thighs, her flushed pink face, her hands squeezing occasionally as they cover her crotch.

A small gasp falling from her lips when you hiss and moan at the feeling of your aching breasts being emptied.

Despite her efforts to stay good little Bela Dimitrescu, behaved and proper, she wants nothing but to push you down and rail you, her tongue circling your breast

And despite her struggles, you won’t allow her to keep up her tidy facade of a good and behaved woman.

Bela hums contently when you pull her against you, her cock deep inside of you, thrusting as she leans above you.

She’s groaning and gasping with each move, feeling her own cum shot inside of you already. Still, she is never satisfied with only one round.

“Come here…”, you coo, cupping her warm cheek and pulling her forwards some more. Bela raises an eyebrow, but follows, her hips jerking forwards so she keeps pushing deep.

Her relatively cool demeanour is entirely lost, though, when you capture your nipple between your fingers. It’s leaking already, and has her breath hitch.

You feel her cock twitching within you, golden eyes wide as she stares. She wets her lips a few times, as though they were completely dry.

With a small grin on your face, you decide to torment you girlfriend further.

“Go on, suck on Mommy’s breasts, Bela”, you whisper lowly, your hand tangling in her hair and at last pushing her against your chest.

She shrieks and moans in surprise, her lips obediently wrapping around your nipple. Bela��s shivering and moaning, thrusting wildly and sloppily due to her distraction. Her hands knead your skin, groping here and there as she sucks.

She feels the odd taste in her mouth when she sucks hard enough, and it has her moan and whimper around your nipple. Her face is entirely red and warm, her cock by far too sensitive.

Without even realizing it, she’s fucking hit harder than she has ever done in the past.

The feeling of her working on your aching breast is intense, to both of you. She’s nothing but a moaning and groaning mess for you, her weakness, the naughty kink, exploited by you.

She feels weak in her knees as you praise her.

“That’s it, y-yes, keep sucking for Mommy!”, you shriek. Your cunt feels as if on fire due to the rough and fast nature of her thrusts.

She’s entirely too needy, sucking and nibbling lightly, self produced milk snd drool running down her chin. She only feels hotter when you pick it with your finger and have her suck it from it again.

Not a single drop goes to waste, really.

Bela’s cock jerks and throbs, her balls twitching slightly. She’s so close, as are you. You know the rough treatment will make walking difficult afterwards.

“Go-Aah! Good gi-rl!”, you groan. She’s moaning around you, then switches to the other nipple. You groan at the bite marks she’s left on your sore and sensitive breast.

Loud moans fill the air when you cum, but Bela is by far too lost in her pleasure to care. Usually she grants you a small break after an orgasm, a moment to calm down.

Not this time.

She thrusts fast and hard, balls slapping against you as she rubs against your inner walls.

She sucks and moans eagerly, moaning slurred and muffled phrases you can’t understand.

The desperate thing won’t take long to cum too; you know. You’re beautifully warm and wet around her, practically pulling her cum from her.

She licks and sucks roughly, your hand tightening its grasp on her hair.

Not long after, she cums too, panting from one of the biggest orgasms she’s had in a long time.

Cassandra

Cassandra loves you. And her little one. She’s- which comes mostly as a surprise to herself- a good mom, if not more than just a tad bit too overprotective.

She also, however, is entirely too desperate for you. Since you’ve given birth, she hasn’t made a move on you. She’s worried it will hurt you, having just pushed out a baby not too long ago.

This also means, her high sex drive goes mostly unanswered. Her hand is not nearly as satisfying as you.

As weeks pass, she only becomes more starved for your touch. She wants to fuck you so bad, and it yet cautious and worried about asking at the wrong time.

And so, Cassandra is only what can be described as a hot and needy mess. Humping her hand and jerking herself off at any opportunity, moaning and gasping when she plays with herself.

And the worst? Recently you’ve made her discover a whole new kink.

She adores watching you nurse your shared child. She does. It’s sweet, and a powerful connection is built.

On the other hand, all she can think of it taking your larger, leaking breasts into her mouth. She wants nothing more than that, and with her cock overly needy for you, she’s even more desperate than she has ever been before in her life.

Of course, you take notice. As well as that she apparently will not act on it just yet.

At last, Cassandra feels you around her again. You initiated contact first by cupping her through her clothing, and in no time did she strip you and fuck you.

Many rounds after, with her cum drooling from you again already and sticking to your body, you strike.

The poor thing is still needy as you straddle her thighs and ride her.

Additionally, your breasts- larger than before your pregnancy- seem to taunt her. Cassandra has them push up against her face, and even does as much as whimper when it brushes past her lips.

She wants it so bad, yet it’s such an embarrassing kink for her, to moan and suck your aching breasts

You don’t leave her a choice in this regard, however.

With your cunt wrapped around her cock as you ride her and your hand gripping her shoulder, the other tangled in her hair, you arch your back a little and push your heavy breasts against her face some more.

“Suck them, please…!”, you moan. You too want the release you receive from her wet lips around you.

It’s all she needs, it seems.

Cassandra immediately gropes and sucks, drawing milk from you and uncaring about how it drips against her chest and arm. She wants you, so bad.

Moans are slurred against your nipples as she sucks eagerly, her eyes closed and her hands groping every bit of your hip and other breast.

She smirks breathily when milk drools from you and you moan, riding faster.

Cassandra all too eagerly thrusts up into you too, her teeth grazing your skin.

She sucks and moans at the taste in her mouth, your large chest nearly suffocating her. Not that she minds.

She shivers, her cock twitching and moving slightly. You’re perfect for her, and she’s so close to filling you yet again.

“Mghmm”, you gasp when she wraps her lips around your other nipple, sucking yet again. She’s rough and eager, impatient and insatiable.

Cassandra’s own nipples brush up against you, and for a moment you think of what the reversed situation would be like.

Having her with larger, heavy and most of all; full breasts. Full of milk that she yearns to have you drain. To suck her nipples sore and relieve her ache, to grope and chuckle when milk drools out of her beyond her control.

You cup her cheek lovingly, moaning and throwing your head back. She begins thrusting upwards when you can no longer ride her, her hand gripping your hip, the other squeezing the breast that hasn’t got her mouth on it.

She eagerly licks up everything, and moans as she sucks and relieves your ache.

She too, is painfully close. The scenario is beyond erotic to her, and as her arm wraps around you and she flips you, lips still around your nipples when she hovers over you, you know to prepare yourself for hard thrusts.

And hard and powerful they are, so much that the bed rocks and your cunt aches from her large cock. She makes you take it all while having your sensitive breasts stimulated.

When you cum, she follows, though is by far not done with you.

Daniela

Daniela loves you so much. In turn, she’s also so needy for you, nearly constantly. And nearly all you do turns the vixen on.

When you nurse, this is no different. Daniela squirms as she watches, her eyes set on your breasts, larger, and full of milk.

She wants a taste so bad.

She squirms and whimpers for you each time she spots you nursing or, especially when pumping milk for a bottle.

So much so, that you originally mistook her arousal for the pump itself. Still, when you offered it for her, to have it on her chest, she refused. No, it’s not that thing she wants.

It’s you.

She’s not at all subtle about her arousal. She can’t help it at all either. Still, she has difficulty admitting it.

She’s too stubborn, insisting she’s a good girl and doesn’t get off to you using the pump or the thought of her lips sucking your breasts.

You intend to show her just how a good girl truly behaves.

How well and eagerly a good girl sucks your breasts for you.

Daniela is panting and moaning as she watches you, her legs limp and her arms hanging over the side of the chair she is in.

Your breasts, large and round, pushed against her cock. Rubbing it, jerking her off. She whimpers so beautifully for you as she feels herself be brought to orgasm fast.

She’s so close in so little time, even more so as she watches milk droplets drool from your nipples sometimes. It has her blush crazily and grip the chair tightly.

“You like that, Dani?”, you coo, and she moans and nods fast. Her cock is perfectly sandwiched between your large chest.

“Y-YAH! Ye-es!”, she answers fast.

You can’t help but notice her chest- her equally large breasts, even without pregnancy, she’s always had a large chest.

Her sensitive nipples tortured with clamps- you figured you’d give your needy redhead a feel of what sore nipples are like.

And it’s absolutely driving her crazy.

She cums on you fast, and a lot, panting and moaning. Daniela gasps, however, when you pull her hair into a makeshift ponytail and use your grasp on it to tug her off the chair.

Instead, you push her up against your dirty chest, her clamped nipples brushing up against you and making her mewl.

Your lover is already drooling precum again, too enduring and sensitive for her own good.

“Clean up your mess, my love”, you coo, and she does so eagerly.

Her tongue almost trembles above your skin as she licks her cum off, whimpering and moaning when she brushes it along your nipple and you groan.

Her lips are smeared and she moans at the taste of herself on her, eagerly licking and nibbling on your chest and collarbone, all too happy to leave marks there.

“Hngg!”, she groans as you tug her hair again and push her right against your nipple.

“Good girl, now suck, my sweet”

She blushes as she wraps her lips around your nipple, eyes wide and cheeks warm and pink.

She moans and whines, sucking eagerly. Soon, she is rewarded with your taste in her mouth. Her groans only stimulate you further, the vibrations teasing against your skin.

“Y-Yes, more!”, you demand. She hums again, sucking harder, at last accepting her newfound kink and obsession.

You reward her by dropping your hand between her legs, and gasp when the moment you stroke her cock, she nearly bites down.

“Y-AAH!”, she shrieks in surprise, pulled back by her hair again, milk and her cum dripping from her lips and smeared against her chin.

“Behave and be careful, Daniela”, you scold her, and she nods eagerly.

“Yes, my love”, she assures you.

You eye her a moment longer, watching her reactions as you jerk her sensitive and soaked cock off. Her eyes close and lips drop open, her jaw goes slack as she moans and mewls.

At last, you allow her back against your chest.

Daniela licks and sucks eagerly, her hands occupied with your other nipple. She giggles when she gropes you and milk drools out, but is quick to lick it up again.

She works eagerly, her hips rising to meet your thrusts around her cock. She’s more than eager to cum.

“Mhmmmm goood!”, she moans, her tongue dragging against your nipples yet again. She seems particularly fond of this, and giggles as it makes your nipples red and sore in no time.

Then, her lips wrap around your other nipple eagerly, all too ready to suck this one as well.

She can’t go neglecting one now, can she?

Daniela moans and smiles around your chest, her own, clamped nipples aching painfully.

She wants to feel you around them too, she realises, although all in due time. She’s by far too eager to keep pleasuring you for now.

[silversdragonemporium]

❛ you were made to be ruled. ❜

Ship: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Byleth Eisner (female)

Prompt list

Warnings: EXTREMELY YANDERE DIMITRI ALEXANDRE BLAIDDYD (I mean it). This basically is a dead-dovey imprisonment drabble if you don't like that then please for the love of all that is holy, DO NOT read ok~?

Byleth had tried to escape again.

This time, her efforts had managed to get her as far out as the first inner courtyard of the castle. But she had run out of Divine Pulses when Dimi— when the King intercepted her escape. He had made a show of carrying her back to the elegant room with sturdy windows that he had called ‘her quarters’. Byleth was more practical, and she called it her gilded prison.

“My dear beloved,” he said, in that soft and gentle tone that made her feel both horrified and comforted at the same time. “You know you can’t leave your quarters. The Western Lord’s assassins have been trying to find and kill my wife. They want me to marry some daughter of theirs, I know they do. But I will never—”

“I’m not your beloved,” she said, squirming against his arms to try to wriggle out.

Her attempts seemed to amuse him. After all, he chuckled happily, but still held her close as he carried her into her gilded prison. 

“I’d love nothing more than to proudly show you off to all the other lords and nobles of the Kingdom. To let them know that only you will be the mistress of my heart, body and soul. See you take your rightful place next to me…”

“Dimitri,” she tried appealing once more to the kindness that she knew was somewhere in him. “You know that I’m just some nobody. You can’t seriously take me as a wife. Please, let me go, and find someone else you can love—”

Dimitri’s eyes turned from a pleasant summer day sky to a stormy cold river of ice.

“Who told you you’re not worthy?” He growled. “Was it the maids? The servants? Point them to me, and I will gift you their head.”

“No! I’m just…!” She huffed and crossed her arms. No matter what memories she had of him, or how sweet he had once been to her, she had to remember that this man was a vastly different person from her Dimitri. The man that she…

“Byleth…” The King’s pleasant voice once again mellowed out, as he cradled her head with a warm hand that was so gentle, one wouldn’t suspect that he could crush skulls with it. “You were made to be ruled,” his thumb caressed her lips. “No matter how long it takes, I’ll show you just how much you wish to serve me.”

[dimigex]

Gestures (KakaSaku)

This is for @harunosakuraweek, Day One, Prompt: Hanami 

Sakura rubbed her eyes and fought to focus on the words in front of her. She’d spent the entire day in her office, trying to catch up on paperwork that should have been completed days if not weeks ago. She could never find never enough time to finish everything, especially when she saw patients during the day. 

Blinking away the bleariness, Sakura returned to the row of numbers that indicated shinobi fatalities over the past month. She compared it to the previous month’s tally, then studied the past six months as a whole. There had been an uptick in deaths the previous two months, possibly attributable to the change to spring. However, the annual view showed an upward trend as well, and that couldn’t be attributed to the weather. There had to be extenuating factors. Maybe it was tied to the rise in the immigrant population— 

A knock at the door pulled Sakura’s attention from her work. She growled and tossed the report onto her desk with a clatter. When she called out, she didn’t even try to moderate her tone. “Yes?” 

A familiar grey head peeked around the door, then Kakashi stepped through. His eyes creased into his ever present eye smile. “So, you are still alive down here after all.” 

“Yes, and I’m busy,” Sakura snipped, her annoyance with paperwork bleeding through at the first person she’d seen all day. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

Kakashi closed the door behind him before crossing the office. He nodded. “As a matter of fact, there is.” 

When the man didn’t continue, Sakura raised one eyebrow in his direction. “Did I mention that I was busy?” 

“You did.” Kakashi rested one hip against the edge of Sakura’s desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “But, it’s going to have to wait. Official order of the Hokage, I’m afraid.” 

Sakura tapped her pen against the palm of her opposite hand and narrowed her eyes. “Kakashi, I don’t have time for one of your games today. This paperwork needed done weeks ago, and I—

“And, you’ve been locked in here all day. You need to get out,” Kakashi finished. He leveled his gaze at Sakura. “You still have to eat, don’t you? And, all of this will still be here when you get back. 

“I’ll order takeout,” Sakura countered, turning her attention back to her paperwork. 

Kakashi plucked the report from Sakura’s hands. “I’m afraid not.” He lifted the pages out of Sakura’s reach when she shot to her feet. “I’m serious. This is for your own good.” 

Growling, Sakura launched herself toward Kakashi, but he danced out of reach. After three unsuccessful attempts, she huffed and glared up at his smug expression. “If I agree to dinner, will you let me get back to work after?” 

“If you still want to, yes.” Kakashi lowered the report, leaving himself wide open to Sakura’s fist. She didn’t put any chakra behind the punch; she used just enough force to remind him that she could have. The air whooshing out of the man’s lungs was more pleasant than she’d anticipated. 

“Don’t manipulate me again,” Sakura warned, taking the pages back from Kakashi’s hand. She set the report back on her desk and shook her head. She knew a losing battle when she saw one. She turned to Kakashi who still hadn’t spoken and raised one hand to his shoulder. “Too hard?” 

The man shook his head, letting a tentative breath. When it didn’t hurt, Kakashi nodded. “Okay, point taken. Are you ready to go?” 

Sighing, Sakura flipped off the light on her desk and gave her work one last glance before turning away. She followed Kakashi out of the hospital and down the street. They passed Ichiraku, Sakura’s favorite sushi restaurant, the Korean BBQ, then the Chinese place that they’d been meaning to try. When they continued past Kakashi’s apartment, Sakura frowned. “Where exactly are you taking me?” 

“Do you trust me?” Kakashi didn’t turn back or wait for Sakura’s answer; he already knew it. They’d been dating for a few months now, so it wasn’t completely unusual for him to surprise her with things like this, but it was rare. 

The pair cut through the village, moving between buildings until Sakura began to wonder if Kakashi had lost his mind. There were no restaurants this way. When Kakashi stopped, Sakura almost ran into his back. She opened her mouth to complain, then stopped short at the scene before them. 

The last time that Sakura had walked past this park, it had been a drab expanse of green and brown with the occasional splash of. It had erupted in shades of pink and white that swayed on every breeze. Dozens of people filled the space, colorful blankets spread over the scant spring grass. Sakura gazed around in wonder before turning back to face Kakashi. 

“I didn’t want you to miss it,’ the man offered by way of explanation. “You’ve been so busy lately, I didn’t think you’d noticed.” 

Kakashi led Sakura through the crowd, wading deeper into the sea of blossoms. He paused near the largest tree where a red and white blanket covered the ground. A heavy basket held the fabric in place. Sakura’s eyebrows crept upward again. “How did you manage all of this?” 

“Being Hokage has some perks.” Kakashi eye smiled again then settled on the blanket. He offered one hand as if Sakura weren’t perfectly capable of joining him. She took it anyway, feeling a flush of warmth course through her. Kakashi held her hand for a moment, then released it. “Honestly, Shikamaru did most of this, but the thought was mine.”

“That’s what counts,” Sakura said, finally realizing how special the day really was. She had been so busy with work that she’d almost missed her chance to see their cherry blossoms at their peak. She gazed up at the tree above them; the soft petals of pink and white scented the air. So much beauty would be wiped away in just a few days. It seemed like such a waste, but at the same time, she knew that she wouldn’t appreciate them if they were always available. For one week, they would exist in perfection, then they would disappear as if they’d never been. 

Exhaling, Sakura turned to find Kakashi watching her with a tender expression. A flush crept up her cheeks. “Thank you for this.” 

“Maa.” Kakashi waved away the sentiment and began digging food and drinks out of the picnic basket. “I know how much you enjoy the flower viewing, but you were so caught up in work. I thought it might be a nice surprise.” 

Sakura nodded, unable to hide the color on her face. She imagined that she must look something like the flowers overhead in the various stages of pink and could only hope that Kakashi didn’t notice. Reaching out, she helped him remove containers of their favorite foods without speaking. Sakura hoped that her actions conveyed her appreciation in a way that words couldn’t. 

For a few minutes, Sakura felt every eye drawn to them. While she and Kakashi hadn’t been secretive about their relationship, they didn’t openly advertise it either. This was a big step for Kakashi, to put their lives so much in the public eye. The flower viewing was always crowded, but after a few minutes people went back to their own conversations. Sakura felt the tension bleed out of her shoulders. 

“Thanks again,” Sakura murmured, leaning close enough to pitch the words for Kakashi’s ears alone. He turned the answer, and there was surprise in his eyes at how close they were. She closed the distance to meet his mouth in a kiss through the mask. “I love you.”  

Kakashi tipped his head to the side, seeming to savor the closeness of the moment, then he smiled and brushed a strand of pink hair behind Sakura’s ear. “So, do you think you can hold off on returning to work for the rest of the night?” 

Sakura leaned into the touch, and smiled. “I suppose you made a convincing argument, this time.” 

[holy-megs]

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 — 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐇𝐀

Your friends have been waiting for you and your boyfriend to get ready for Ino’s and Sai's engagement.

As you and your boyfriend were putting on some expensive and trendy outfits, you heard your boyfriend's voice inviting himself into the bathroom as you were applying your makeup.

“I didn’t know you were in—”

“It’s fine, something wrong?” You say with a curious tone.

“You look okay.” Your boyfriend has been checking you out for the last 2 minutes and all he has to say is this.

God, he is so dry and hard to read, and he also has difficulties expressing himself.

“You look good, nice, and okay; don't you have anything else to say to me? I mean, I get it; that's your way of telling me I'm pretty, but—”

“What more do you need to be told than what you already know, that you’re sexy and fucking gorgeous in that dress?”

You are currently in a state that can only be described as speechless.

“And by the way, wear something else because this dress is so fucking tight and your titties are showing off. Since when do you dress like that?”

Sasuke said, pushing your dress downward in an attempt to make it looser while having the usual scoff plastered on his face. Your thighs were meant to be hidden by this, but he completely failed.

“What are you doing? You’re going to ruin it.” You warn him, anger washing over you.

“Then go change into something else, or I’m lending you my jacket.”

© 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲-𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐬, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[blaydiud]

valkyrie.

I need to stop doing this, desperately so.

And yet his own thoughts were voiceless at the moment. It felt like the worst type of deja vu, lying face down on his bed feeling the crushing weight of defeat after losing teammates in a battle and allowing himself to be one of the first to be taken down. The fact that the situation at hand had been drastically different from the mock battle from moons ago didn’t matter to the prince- the effects were the same. He promised himself to train so he could become strong and that he’d never allow something like that to happen again.

Not only did it happen again, but his defeat was by his own hand. Ironic, only one version of himself got what he wanted so badly- and it was the fantasy one.

The only thing left to soothe the turmoil in his head at the moment was the fact that as soon as he woke up in the infirmary, staff was happy (or as happy as they could) to announce that he was deemed competent enough in reason to be given more advanced spells to work with. Lo and behold, Fimbulvetr was located right under his body, the prince having forgotten that he was holding it and rolled over only to notice the volume of the tome underneath him. He lacked the energy to do anything about it, however.

“I need to grow up”, words that were told to him again and again throughout his entire lifetime and that he mumbled to himself against the pillow, but the words felt empty and lacked effect.

Faerghus is a military power, victory and battle were its blood and heart.

Dimitri can’t even protect his friends from- illusions. Illusions, they were! He couldn’t even save himself from it. But although the sting hurt deeply, the loss itself wasn’t what hurt the most. It was a symptom, only.

His memories ran back to the mission at Bergliez territory in the Empire, to the battle with Errol. The boy’s look of terror after its allies were torn apart, the raw fear in his eyes that Dimitri caught glimpse of as Areadbhar managed to scratch at the boy’s arm. Errol’s- or whatever the kid’s name was, whimpers of pain and fear as he laid on the grass, battered, waiting for death’s veil to reach his body. Dimitri wanted that child dead for what he had done- but at the same time when he saw Errol he saw himself- except then, Dimitri was the murderer holding a weapon over a scared and injured boy left to die.

Now, back at whatever happened in the book, the roles had merged. Dimitri was the victim, Dimitri was the aggressor. He saw himself kill and he saw himself at the aim of a fatal blow. But only one could be true, and so his mind defaulted to the murderer, chastising himself for doing the unthinkable, for raising a blase against his friends- it wasn’t him, but that was him. Everything felt real, too real in there. 

The prince groaned as a sharp headache made itself known, rolling to the side and clinging to the tome as if it could help the situation. Well- he glanced at it. Fimbulvetr, advanced ice magic. Although his affinity was Thunder, he figured it would be good to master more than one element. It was blue and silver, just like everything in Faerghus. Despite the headache, he mindlessly thumbed at the cover’s details, trying to take in what he could.

I should be happy about this. He thought. I really should. It’s all he had wanted, wasn’t it? To be good at magic? Yet it came at a moment where whatever joy the achievement held was completely drowned by…everything else. He sighed, holding the tome close to his heart. 

The sound of sudden knocking on his door momentarily scattered any possibility the prince had to wallow in any more misery, forcing him to sit up. “Yes?”

“Your Highness, pardon to interrupt but the stables’ staff wish to let you know that your new mount is here.” The messenger didn’t open the door, which Dimitri was thankful for. If anyone saw him the way he was right now, the reputation of Faerghus crown would be even more corroded than it already is. 

“I see, thank you. I shall be there in a moment.” Putting on his best voice, covering up any signs of exhaustion or hints that he had been crying or feeling discomfort, Dimitri sighed and urged himself to stand up. It was a decent enough motivation, a new horse- poor Duke, as wonderful as he was, was not bred nor trained to be ridden by a magic user, if the prince were to cast anything while on the stallion’s saddle he’d most definitely spook and Dimitri refused to put his beloved friend through any unnecessary distress.

So, he was sent another one. One that definitely wasn’t as sturdy as Duke, but that was used to magic.

The foundation and powder were easy to apply, it was part of his morning routine now. They blended with his skin perfectly and his any signs of eyebags or the horrid, unhealthy pale tone his face would get when he wasn’t feeling his best. He blew his nose- it would do no good to walk around all stuffy, and waited for his eyes to dry up and reduce their redness. Once he deemed his work perfect, Dimitri stared at himself in the mirror- breathe in, breathe out. Fake, very fake, but good enough. He grabbed the tome and left towards the stables.

The mare was just like the lovely, docile chestnut he had seen in the fantasy book.

Dimitri has gotten Margravine Macaron von Klaske!

[dimigexwrites]

Cheating Death - Tenzo and Saiyo

Also available on A03

Warm blood ran between Saiyo’s fingers, flowing down her wrist as she pressed a wad of wet bandaging against Tenzo’s side. She expected a groan of pain from the force she used, but the man remained quiet. The silence worried her more than she wanted to admit. Tenzo had been unconscious for the better part of three hours, and every muscle in Saiyo’s body ached like it was filled with fire. Darkness flickered at the edges of her vision, making it difficult to focus on anything except putting one foot in front of the other. Her body would give out before much longer, but she had to keep going.

Saiyo hefted Tenzo’s weight across her back after wiping the sweat from her brow. She touched the pouch at her hip, considering whether or not she should take another soldier pill. Shortly after Tenzo had collapsed, Saiyo had taken her first. The pair had been on a mission with no backup, which was often the case, except they didn’t usually get blown to hell.

During the battle, Tenzo hadn’t reacted as quickly as Saiyo expected. He took the brunt of the blows before they were able to turn their attackers back. When it was finished, Saiyo found him curled in on himself, back against a tree. A puddle of blood soaked the ground beneath Tenzo’s hip as he fumbled to bandage his wounds. He had dozens of injuries that hadn’t been there when the fighting swept them apart.

The gash on Tenzo’s thigh had been from a fight two days ago, but the caved in armor around his stomach was new. Sweat dappled the man’s forehead as he struggled to remove the heavy chestplate. Saiyo knelt next to her captain, placing a hand on his shoulder. She unzipped the vest, gently pulling it away as he hissed through gritted teeth. “Sorry,” she mumbled, focused on the task of checking the damage beneath.

Tenzo gasped, arching away from the pain when Sayio pushed bandages against the pulsing wound. She ignored him and pressed harder, feeling the warmth of his blood against her hand. The flow would eventually stop, but they didn’t have time to wait for it. She dug through the medkit that was half spilled on the ground and came up with some tape. The dirty skin needed to be disinfected, but she didn’t have time for that either. Saiyo secured the bandage. They’d clean it at the hospital, assuming they made it that far.

“You should go.” Tenzo levered himself into more of a sitting position. He clenched his jaw against the pain as Saiyo tossed the unused bandages and tape back into the medical kit. “I doubt that was the last of them.”

Saiyo shook her head and checked her weapons pouch. “Probably not. Can you walk?”

The shallow grunt wasn’t reassuring, nor was the way that Tenzo’s eyes drifted shut. Fear washed through Saiyo. Forest sounds grew distant, and the world narrowed to the tiny space between herself and Tenzo. It felt like dropping into a pool of ice water, and chill bumps erupting along Saiyo’s arms. Panic flashed red at the edge of her vision like a wild animal howling with a primal fear that threatened to overwhelm her logic.

Saiyo pressed her fingers against Tenzo’s neck. Brown eyes opened and tried to focus on her face, but it took several attempts. He frowned. “I gave you an order.”

“You gave me a suggestion,” Saiyo countered, trying to keep her voice light and playful. “I’m choosing to ignore it. Let’s get you up; we need to keep moving.”

Frowning at the wound on Tenzo's side, Saiyo zipped his chestplate back over it. The pressure would help stop the blood flow if nothing else. Putting an arm around his back, she braced her shoulder under his armpit. Lifting the man to his feet was impossible without chakra, so Saiyo spent the tiniest fraction of her reserve to steady the extra weight.

Either the jostling or the pain woke Tenzo from unconsciousness. Agony laced his dark eyes like poison as he took in the scene around him. Pulling away, Tenzo steadied himself on a tree with one hand. The blood had drained from his face, leaving him ghostly pale. He took another shallow breath and let out a gunt of pain before focusing on Saiyo. “Do you have any soldier pills?”

Under normal circumstances, Saiyo might have laughed at the question. Now, she swung her pack around to dig through the contents. It took only a minute to find the small box that portioned out the emergency backup that all Anbu carried. She offered it to Tenzo, and he dropped two of the pills into his hand before handing the last to Saiyo.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to take two at once,” Saiyo cautioned, tucking the third into the pouch at her hip in case she needed it later.

“It’ll be fine.” Tenzo popped both of the sticky orbs into his mouth and chewed, releasing the chemicals into his body. He shuddered, then let out a soft sigh. “Trust me.”

Trust you, my ass, Saiyo grumbled under her breath, swiping at the sweat on her forehead again before it could sting her eyes. Fat lot of good that did me.

Tenzo had lasted for maybe an hour, running on the fumes of his body’s energy. The soldier pills had given him enough to get away, but not back to the village. When he’d collapsed, nothing Saiyo did brought him back around. There had been nothing to do except take the final soldier pill and pray that would be enough to get them both back to Konoha.

Twenty hours later, Saiyo’s muscles felt like they’d been made of water. She had tried to check on Tenzo once an hour, but by the end, she wasn’t sure of the time any longer. Continuing to move forward required all of her energy. Tenzo rested like a corpse against her back, his blood leaving a sticky streak between her shoulder blades. Don’t think about it, Saiyo told herself. One foot in front of the other. Just a little further.

When Konoha finally came into view, Saiyo wanted to cry with relief. She didn’t, of course, but the desire was there. Her body was too exhausted to give anything else. The hospital was silent when Saiyo crashed into the shinobi wing through a secondary entrance. A nurse appeared almost immediately, asking dozens of questions that Saiyo had no answer for.

The room where the woman led them was cold and sterile, smelling of antiseptic and death. Saiyo lowered Tenzo’s body to the bed, surprised to see how much blood splattered his side. His face was paler than the sheet and clammy when she removed his face protector. The man didn’t shift at all; Saiyo wasn’t sure he was breathing. Tenzo looked like death personified.

Fear gripped Saiyo’s throat, squeezing until her mind rebelled. She wanted to be anywhere except this room watching her captain die. The nurse asked what happened, asked how long he’d been injured, but Saiyo couldn’t answer. Words left her lips, but she had no control or understanding of what she said. Uncharacteristic panic rippled through her, and she fled.

Saiyo made it back to the Anbu barracks just before the crash from the soldier pill hit her, like running into a wall at full speed. Her last thought before unconsciousness swallowed her was that she hoped she hadn’t carried a dead man back to Konoha.

[cinlat]

Kazuko belongs to @dimigex​ from her awesome Naruto fic Healing Hands. My Saiyo is a disaster character who pops in from time to time to make Sakura and Tenzo’s lives a little more stressful. As it turns out, she’s got a thing for doctors.

These are all loosely edited for time’s sake because I don’t want them to fall to the wayside.

50 Kisses Prompts Found here

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

Saiyo chewed the inside of her cheek, struggling with the simple loop knot that Kazuko had shown her. The door opened, admitting the doctor in question. “How’s it going?”

Sitting back, Saiyo grimaced at the butchered chicken carcass. “Could be worse.”

Kazuko set the dinner he’d retrieved on the counter before moving to stand behind Saiyo’s chair. When he didn’t comment, she tipped her head back. “Well?”

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Kazuko leaned closer. “Well, it will certainly keep a shinobi’s internal organs where they belong.” He poked at the thing that had been meant for their dinner. Now, it was a jagged mess of stiff suture thread and looked like it could be used as a weapon. 

Saiyo pushed from the table, careful to avoid Kazuko’s toes, and stomped towards the kitchen. “If it’s shit just say so. I don’t need your coddling.” She peered into the bag to see what he’s decided on and sighed when it didn’t appear to be fried. She supposed that she shouldn’t complain since he’d given up his original idea for her to practice on.

“It’s fine.” Kazuko leaned closer to examine Saiyo’s stitching. “Practice will make it pretty, so long as they hold, that’s all that matters."

Saiyo glared, wishing for the tenth time that day that Kazuko hadn’t cleared out his alcohol. The man hadn’t kept much, but it was enough to take the edge off. Despite everyone with a hint of medical training declaring the benefits, sobriety sucked. 

“I need it to be perfect,” Saiyo argued. Doctor Haruno had made it clear that she wouldn't reinstate Saiyo until she got the help she didn’t need. If Saiyo could take a valuable skill set back to the woman, then the bitch would have to let Saiyo back onto the Anbu roster. Siayo’s only other alternative was therapy, and that would take too long. With a sigh, she settled on coffee and pretended that she had some rum to dump into it. 

Kazuko left the nightmarish poultry on the table and joined Saiyo in the kitchen. When she refused to acknowledge his presence, the man leaned one elbow on the counter, lowered his glasses, then peered over them at her. Saiyo hated it when he did that and bit down on her tongue to keep from showing that it had worked. In the end, Kazuko won; he always did.

“Damn you,” Saiyo chuckled. It faded quickly as she looked at the civilian who’d taken her in. He wasn’t anything like the guys Siayo was used to, and despite his kindness, she missed the rowdy laughter and swearing of her friends. Saiyo could still see them, but the humiliation of being benched kept her away.

“You’ve made amazing progress for the short time you've been doing it,” Kazuko said, sensing the change in Saiyo's mood. His hand rested on her arm, offering a light squeeze. “Stop trying to rush back into battle and focus on this for a little longer.”

When Saiyo looked away, Kazuko captured her chin to force her attention back to him. She looked into the same kind face that had found her in that alley and brought her into his home when she wouldn’t go to the hospital. Saiyo couldn’t express all of her fears about being replaced on Yamato’s team, or how empty she felt, how out of control this civilian world seemed compared to the organized chaos of her Anbu home. 

When Kazuko opened his mouth to offer more encouragement, Saiyo couldn’t take it. She didn’t want to hear any more kind words about persevering. Her lips crashed into his, fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt to hold him close. Saiyo swallowed Kazuko’s garbled yelp and let the friction of the moment carry her away from her insecurities. 

Saiyo regained her senses at the same time that Kazuko’s free hand rested on her hip. She jerked back with a gasp. “Shit, I’m sorry, I--”

Kazuko chuckled and waved a dismissive hand. “I’m getting used to it.” He righted the glasses that Saiyo had knocked askew and hooked a thumb over his shoulder where her patient waited on the table. “Want me to show you a trick?”

[strayed-from-the-sun]

The Huntsman and the Knight

Waiting… Waiting…

The harsh sun's final hours were arriving and its brutal colors became an orange glow. The Keeper of the Moon was prone beneath a sand colored tarp high atop a well baked roof. He was motionless, still as a corpse with eyes fixed on the gates and roads into pearl lane. A pair of ice blue eyes scanned from beneath the tarp. He’d begin to slowly motion reaching for his paper.

One last look at his face.

The Moonkeeper had a good half hour left before his quarry would pass through here. It would be just them, no guards. No lights. The perfect ambush. He took this  moment to mentally prepare once more. Remembering the moments that brought him here. He spent three days alone studying the quarry and finding this ideal moment. He then remembered his contractor. That smug asshole. It was nearly a week before he took the job. Eliphas, another big name with a very big price on his head offered it. He’d never truly understand the magus that hired him. It was something the Enforcer of Ul'dah preferred to keep himself with his associates. He remembered the quarry.

Dimi...

Another Miqo’te, but this was an odd sort of Sunseeker. He was an easy mark to catch, too distinct. He learned the man supposedly came from Ishgard, and despite the outrageous claim it was very much a fact. He carried himself nobly, spoke like an Ishgardian, and skulked the nights and roads in armor not unlike most adventurers that come and go. He was very different, a stray amongst the crowd.

 Eliphas stated this adventure was a remnant of a client’s concluded business. A loose end of Adventurers that hadn’t been completely swept away. This adventurer, a knight, was taking vindication against the workings of the Syndicate underworld. It was honest and praiseworthy, but this was a business. 

Sami’ya wasn’t fond of taking a job like this but the pay was great, even if it had been from a snake like Eliphas.

Night fell and the window of opportunity was open. The streets of Pearl Lane were poorly lit for the night. This Dimi was likened to the cover of night and was on a chase of his own. Looking to cut down every conspirator of the downfall of his group. Sami could understand it, but he couldn’t fully sympathize. But the time to sympathize was over now. He was committed to hunt and he would see it through. ‘Bring him alive or dead. I dont care, I just need my client to know he can breathe easy again.’ Eliphas’s order rung in his head.

Sami drew his bow. His keen eyes quickly adjusted to the night. There he was. The knight appeared, carefully walking the streets. His darkened Ishgardian armor was heavy but the Sunseeker was adept at moving quietly in the street. Sami knocked an arrow. He wasn’t familiar with Ishgard armor but everything has its openings and soft spots. He spied a gap in the armor, Sami slowly crawled from the tarp. He carefully slumped up to a low firing posture. Dimi hadn’t spotted him yet, but the knight was cautious. He was aware there was something not right. It was too late, the hunter took his shot. The arrow hummed on the wind and struck the knight.

No good, the quarry turned and sunk into his armor but it wouldn’t be enough to pierce flesh. The arrow wedged itself in the abdomen of the armor between the chains and the plate which took the brunt of the shot. Dimi was quick, he grabbed the arrow to try and pry it loose but resorted to snapping the shaft in twain to keep it from impeding him. He reached for the flamberge on his back and turned to the direction the shot came from and spotted Sami who was in the rush. Another arrow knocked and loosed at the knight’s direction, this time for the head, but Dimi was able sidestep the shot. The knight charged forward with surprising speed, Sami had a lot of space to work with. He could see the path the knight would take, climbing on boxes and crates to get up to him. He loosed another arrow, struck in the shoulder but not deep. He was able to find a spot past the pauldrons of the knight armor.

He could see the fervent fury in Dimi’s eyes, but he was more than a leap away from being close, Sami’s instinct suddenly spelled danger, a shift in aether. He’d retreat to the next building and leapt upon it and found his gut to make a call. Dimi had leapt blade forward and struck it into the roof edge where the hunter was. It was terrifying. This was no ordinary knight if he could leap up and bury his blade into the roof in such a manner. Sami let off a shot hastily but it struck true, catching the soft part of the torso and digging deep. Dimi let out an audible grunt in pain. The shot was going to stop him for a moment but he’d still have plenty of fight no doubt. Blood trickled from the arrow’s shaft and dripped onto the rooftop and the knight took a second to evaluate the damage giving Sami the moment to retreat.

Sami spun around to climb to the next building, a quick leap off a ledge and a grab for the top and he was up. He felt another surge of aether but this time he hadn’t had the time to react. A crimson orb of energy struck him in the chest, suddenly bursting into thousands of needles many of which had run through his physical being. The sensation felt like a dozen small daggers pricking through his body in an instant. He coughed up blood and gasped for air in a panic but was able to recover in time. To his surprise the Knight had found a second wind and was at the chase again. The Sunseeker had been able to tear off the arrow from his shoulder and break loose the other. His armor was stained red now from his wounds but he showed no signs of slowing. 

Sami knocked back 3 arrows at once. There was no chance to miss. He pulled back and landed his trio of shots perfectly and the arrows dug into the knight. His other shoulder, neck and knee joint caught each shot and brought the knight down. Dimi fell to his knees, more blood dripping, his breath heavy and ragged. Sami could see it, the knight was in his death throes.

The knight proved his stamina once more however as a tumultuous surge of aether could be felt. The knight suddenly threw himself at Sami with ferocious speed. His eyes were different to the Hunter, noting the grayish blue hue was now a glowing red. The knight made a bestial growl as he grappled the hunter. Sami could barely react as the knight tackled him and slammed the hunter against the wall. Sami gasped in pain as his breath was forced out of his lungs. He recoiled from the shock of the impact. Again the Knight with what seemed like otherworldly strength would slam him against the wall, but there was less impact to it.

Sami was able to recuperate. He couldn’t break free from the Knight or reach for his dagger. He scrambled for whatever arrows he could grab and went for the neck. He jabbed and punched the arrow heads for his life now, thrashing as best as he could until the knight suddenly lost his grip. Sami kicked himself free as the knight stumbled backwards and collapsed.

Somehow the bastard is still alive

He cautiously approached the knight was more of a bloody mess now, Shattered arrow shafts and deep cuts from the grapple left the man covered in his own blood. Yet somehow the knight was still breathing, barely alive but held on. Sami stared down the knight. There was still life in his eyes, but it was fading. He watched the Miqo’te fall unconscious. His breathing was short till it was near stopped. Blood would trickle and pool on the rooftop. It began to drip over the side and onto the street below. The Hunter’s own breath was ragged but quickly calmed. He could feel every blow struck from the magic and from the grapple. He had been in many scuffles but few went as wild as this, at least with the people he tracked down.

Time was short for the Hunter, the window of opportunity was closing. He could hear the distant clanging of boots. The Blades were alerted to their fight and he’d have to leave. Sami gave the knight one last look. He could have made quick work and taken the knight’s life with a stroke of his dagger to the Sunseeker’s neck before fleeing, but he felt something.

This Dimi was a good man caught in poor circumstances and Sami felt respect for the man’s duty. He’d give the knight a fighting chance. Gil was gil and he’d still get his due. If the knight still walked, or was still eager to continue his pursuits it was no longer his problem. Sami collected his things quickly, he wiped the fresh blood from his hands off a cloth and would escape into the night.

[sirbeaumains]

Drabbles

Some drabbles I wrote a few months back set in my Colors series, featuring a variety of major and minor characters and also some technical spoilers. -shrug- These are true drabbles, aka 100 words exactly ignoring the prompt. And all the prompts were given by @stardustscribes who patiently came up with 15 words for me over the course of like two hours lol

///

Horse

As Bran trudged through the field, disgruntled, Gillian ambled slowly behind her. Whatever his opinion of living in the capital, seeing the mountain bloom in spring was a beautiful thing and he was glad to see it.

Bran had taken to mumbling under her breath.

“Are you complaining about walking again? How many times have we talked about this?” Gillian asked in amusement as Bran kicked a wildflower. She’d gotten better at travelling discretely and not acting like a duchess, but there were some things she’d never fail to complain about.

“Is it so much to ask for a horse?”

Dusk

It’s dusk as he slips out of the palace and into the city that sprawls before it. Yet another day of forced interaction with nobles who abhor his presence. Yet another day of people giving his father pitying looks, murmuring about how poor King Dov is left with his own future murderer as a child. How sad the other two were killed. They were good girls, unscarred, no miserable prophecy on their head. How sad.

Medrath pulls his cloak’s hood up as he enters a market square, merchants packing up for the day. How sad, he thinks bitterly. How sad.

Starlight

Dairna pulled at Medrath’s hand as she led him through her house. It was the home of the Baron of Hoaryrath, but it was small and barely a house in Medrath’s opinion. He was used to the large castle in the capital, and this tiny lodge high in the mountains was as different as you could get.

He let Dairna yank him around, unsure why the younger girl was so excited. He expected she didn’t meet many people.

A blast of frigid air hit him and he shivered, but his eyes went wide. The snow under the starlight looked incredible.

Reflection

Gillian can see himself reflected in Fay and Maylor de Catroph. He has Maylor’s height, and Gillian wonders if his beard will grow in that thick when it finally appears. His resemblance to Fay is more obvious—they both have fair hair, fair skin, and fair eyes. He finds himself glad that she has silver hair and blue-green eyes compared to his gold hair and blue eyes. If he had been a male copy of his—of Fay, he wouldn’t know what to do.

He laughs to himself. Even in his mind he can only call them by their names.

Dozen roses

Cassia spends the days mending clothing instead of making gowns with her sisters. Her mother is angry at her for staying out so late the night before, and darning socks is her punishment.

She knows she shouldn’t be upset—she broke the rules, so punishment is natural—but she can’t help but pout. Eir had snuck her into her castle and let her look through the medical books in its library. Cassia had never been happier. And then Eir had given her a bouquet of roses. Books, flowers, Eir—her favorite things. How could she have remembered to go home?

Protect

The maze is silent around them, and the silence is only magnified in Gillian’s mind each time they come across another corpse.

There’s chaos all around them as Gillian darts forward, but the king is already dead, dead at Diomedes’s hand and Bran’s sword.

There were riots throughout Perfysiko he was told, but he was forced to stay the night on the boat. They didn’t want any of the Stelemuntene delegation hurt. For their protection.

Protection, Gillian thinks, staring out the small porthole at the sea. Something I have failed to do this entire journey. What a healer I am.

Statue

Shasta stared at the lady statue unblinkingly. She wondered who it was. There was writing at the bottom, but she couldn’t read, and neither could any of the animals.

It was a good statue, she guessed. Even covered in moss it looked like a human. A very green human.

Shasta peered around it. The grove behind the statue was the greenest thing she’d ever seen. She looked over her shoulder at the brown and white of the mountain in winter. She looked back at the much-too-green grove.

The animals said it was weird, she mused. A god’s grove. Still odd.

Cook

“What is this supposed to be?” Gillian asked flatly, staring down at the bowl in front of him.

Bran scowled at him. “Haven’t you ever seen porridge before?” She held her head high and tossed her braid from one shoulder to the other in a show of pride, but the blush on her cheek betrayed her embarrassment.

Gillian raised an eyebrow and made a show of lifting the entire bowl up by the spoon.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything. But if I did, it would be that you should never, ever cook anything ever again.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Seaside

Chrysanthe loved the sea. It would be hard for her to hate it—she lived on an island—but she found it fascinating. It was a force of destruction—destroying ships with storms, flooding her village every spring, silently killing anyone who dared to think they could tame it.

And yet there were moments like this. She had convinced Diomedes and Tabitha to take a break from worrying about the future to go seashell collecting at the beach. The sea gently pooled around her ankle before retreating, a playful game of tag.

Chrysanthe could hear her siblings laughing. She smiled.

Seraphim

Gillian goes through the motions of gardening, instead focusing on his recent conversation with Fay. He didn’t enjoy initiating one-on-one conversations with her, but he needed a ten-year long mystery solved.

Unfortunately, she had no idea where he had received a brand of the sun goddess Orleana’s mark. He hadn’t had it as a child, and the Tesvik general that had kept them hostage hadn’t dared touched them—they were noble prisoners, deserving respect.

The mark brushed uncomfortably against fabric. He usually forgot about the raised skin, but he was intensely aware of it now.

How did it get there?

Woods

The woods grew deep on the mountain. The trees rose tall, tall enough to nearly blot out the midday sun. Gillian wanted to make a comment to tease Bran about how they could never maneuver a horse through this dense forest, but something stops him. He didn’t want to be the first to break the unsettling silence that surrounded them.

He knew it wasn’t truly silent—they had passed many animals already—but the woods had a strange way of muffling all noise. Gillian found himself uneasy, but Shasta and Dairna both considered it normal.

Even their footsteps were silent.

Companion

Medrath was talking but Gillian wasn’t listening. It was unusual for him to ignore the other man, but Gillian couldn’t stop looking at a moving lump on Medrath’s arm.

“—and, Gillian will you listen?”

Gillian started and looked up. Medrath was glaring and Bran was snickering. He smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, it’s just that you have a moving lump on your, well, shoulder now.”

Medrath paled slightly. “Ah, that’s—”

Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by Bran’s laughter. A small mouse peeked over Medrath’s collar, whiskers twitching adorably.

He was never going to live this down.

Soft

“Gillian,” Dairna says as she sits next to Gillian.

He smiles in greeting. “How did you get in here? I thought only students were allowed in the Academy’s library?”

Her smile turns playful. “How can they tell who is a student?”

Gillian laughs. “Fair enough. Why are you here then? I didn’t know you liked reading old tomes.”

“Not particularly,” Dairna admits. A hand plays with a heavy looking necklace, the softness of her hands contrasted to the angles of the metal. Gillian tears his eyes away to look her in the face. “I just knew you would be here.”

Breeze

A gust of wind signals Dimi’s arrival. The steward of the Royal Communications building gives him an exasperated look. “Dimi Knifesmith. I believe we’ve talked about your tardiness.”

Dimi gives his award-winning smile. “A charming habit, I believe you said.”

He sees the steward beat back a laugh. Dimi counts that as the win for the day—late to the job and made his superior laugh it off. “If you weren’t one of our fastest runners—and such a smooth talker—you would’ve lost this job months ago.”

“But I am, and I’m still here!” Dimi cheerfully waved himself in.

Storm

It’s said that the unpredictability of the ocean is caused by Safloes declaring war against the humans who dared think they could cross his sphere of influence unchallenged. The other gods of the elements were incensed at this and fought Safloes back with their own power, turning the world into their battleground and causing typhoons and volcanic eruptions in their wake.

As Gillian desperately hung onto a post fixed to the wall, he could see how an ocean storm was a battle between Safloes and Herion. He had never felt anything fiercer. He hoped their ship could weather the damage.

[kvzbrekkrs]

Silly distractions by lovleii Chapters 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter Rating: general audiences Relationships: Rodolphus Lestrange/Mulciber Based on this edit Summary: The heirs to the Mulciber and Lestrange families have given up their lives of privilege to live freely. They've opened a pub and business is slow, but they have each other and for now, that's all that matters.

Nights like this seemed to drag on unending, the clock teasing with it’s slow tick-ticking. A night like this meant no profits, no tips, and the threat of the pub going under hanging over their heads. After all, this is what they signed up for when they turned their backs on their families, forsaking their birth rights for each other and the chance for a life together.

“We should lock up.” Dimi’s voice came quiet from behind the bar where he’d finished restocking the shelves of alcohol and wiping down the already clean counter for the tenth time.

Rodolphus only nodded in response, as he looked out on the empty street from the corner booth which at some point over the last few months had become his unofficial workspace.

“Come on... you’ve been at it all night. That can wait for morning.” Dimitrius was right of course, which didn't make it any less annoying.

“I’ll be up in a minute.” Rod sighed, shuffling his papers and readying them for tomorrow’s work.

“I don’t think so.” Dimi’s voice came from the front door now as he locked up, turned off the open sign and flipped the lights, throwing the pub into semi darkness. “Come..you need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Rod countered, slipping into a sulk as he stood from the booth.

A firm hand, pressed to his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “It’ll pick up...it’s a holiday weekend. People are out of town..”

“I know. I’m fine...it’s fine.” Rodolphus sighed.

“Dance with me.” He answered with a scoff, leave it to Dimi to try and fix this with a silly distraction. “Are you serious?”

“Do I not look serious?” Dimitrius answered with that ridiculous crooked smirk.

There was no arguing with him when he got like this, and besides, it wasn't like Rodolphus actually wanted to argue with him. He rolled his eyes and took the hand that Dimi had offered and allowed himself to be pulled close to sway to music only the two of them could ever hear.

“You’re ridiculous.” he muttered, pressing his forehead to Dimi’s.

“Shut up.” was the only response he got as their lips found one another’s, instantly calming and grounding him, reminding him that this life was the one they chose, along with each other and that no matter what life threw at them, they would handle it together and come out the other side stronger.

“Can we go to bed now, or are you still sulking?” Dimi murmured against his lips, eliciting a small chuckle from Rodolphus.

“Bed...definitely bed.” he murmured in response, pressing his lips to Dimi’s in one more hungry kiss in the dark.

[auricesque]

NONVERBAL MEMES ✧ ACCEPTING !

@expieer​ said: [ cover ] (i never know what the order of these are but one of these guys has a bigass cape u kno what to do)

*        It's late.  Claude should have gone home ages ago, but the ever-present darkness made time hard to gauge. Before he knew it, it was almost 3 AM.

No one should be awake at this hour. Generally, Claude would be fast asleep by now, but here he was in an apartment that wasn't his in a world that wasn't his own, talking to a man he'd dashed any chance of growing close to again.

From the look of it, Dimitri wasn't unused to this hour. He moved as usual, talked as usual, and held the general, soul-deep exhaustion he had during the day too. 

That would have to be addressed, but as things stood, Claude couldn't pry no matter how much his curiosity, and worry, bit at his heels.

So he teased instead, seeing what it took to draw out eye rolls and frustrated "Claude"s that hearkened back to five years ago. The Alliance Leader had been particularly proud of the reaction he'd caused shortly after the late hour had been pointed out. The remark "I'd ask to share your bed, but we wouldn't want to cause a political scandal, now would we~?" had Dimitri balking. The ensuing "CLAUDE!" was muffled last second by his hand, a glance thrown towards Linhardt's room. Claude thought to tell him that the mage was likely wide awake still, but he was too busy laughing.

The best part of that reaction though, was that pink dusting Claude’s sure he saw on those cheeks.

A bit more banter later and Claude found himself lying on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. He hadn't thought too much about his lounging, until Dimitri said:

       "Are you not going to head back to your apartment?"

      "Nah, I'm too tired,” Claude replied, eyes closing. “Besides, the other guy probably likes his alone time. If this is a hassle, I'll cook for you both in the morning. Can't vouch too much for how it'll turn out, but it's the least I can do."

He gets a grunt and then silence in response. The air remains quiet around them, long enough for Claude to open his eyes a sliver and peer up at the other man. As suspected, he's being peered at back, consideration evident in the focus tightening Dimitri's features. 

     “Thinking about something?” Claude ventures.

     “... You have no blankets or anything.” Is the unexpected response. Claude’s eyes flit around as if to search for one. His mouth opens, but whatever comment he was going to make is forgotten instantly.

The regal blue, heavy cloak is slid off of Dimitri’s shoulders and held almost expectantly before he approaches. And Claude, whose eyes have widened and eyebrows raised, is frozen, stuck watching the blond contemplate what the best way to drape it over him would be.

               Because he’s going to be using Dimitri’s cloak as a blanket.

He shifts to prop himself up on his forearms, and eventually to sit so he can help place it atop himself. The fur tickles his nose, and whatever cloth the thing is made out of instantly traps heat beneath. It is far more than he needs, but he finds himself adjusting to it anyway. Adjusting, relaxing, and maneuvering around Dimitri’s too-careful hands.

Claude can see the tension in those broad shoulders, the way the glow of the lamp highlights the sharp, downward tug of Dimitri’s lips. He’s focusing hard, and Claude can’t fathom why until he remembers the deliberation he’s seen him take when doing anything delicate. Is he afraid of hurting him? Of somehow breaking him even though this task is so simple? If that’s so, then that’s...

Dimitri’s head snaps up to look at him, surprise replacing concentration. His stare moves between Claude’s face and their hands-- Their hands?

      “Is there something wrong...?” He ventures, and Claude is too distracted by the fact that he reached for him again to read what emotion fills his words. He’s distracted by their joined hands, his on top, stark against the pepper fur. It takes a moment before Claude draws his gaze up.

           That eye of his is so, so blue. So, so clear.

Concern. That’s the feeling in the words and the actions. It’s concern. And the realization, for whatever reason, hits Claude like a sword handle to the sternum. His mind begs him to analyze it more, dissect exactly why this revelation surprises him so, but the weight of the cape and the late night hour have brought his exhaustion to the forefront. His thumb smooths over Dimitri’s knuckles before he squeezes his hand.

      “Nothing’s wrong,” Claude states, consoling, and lies back until his head sinks into the pillow. His usual grin is gone, replaced with something soft. “Thank you, Dimitri.”

This seems to placate the other man, and he’s granted a smile in return. They exchange “good night”s, with Claude making a point of slipping in a lighthearted comment or two before Dimitri leaves. Now in the dark, he stares at the ceiling until his eyelids droop shut.

There’s too much to unpack at this time. Too much relief. Too much regret. Too much warmth. Too much blood. Too many memories. But, before sleep fully takes him, he knows one thing for sure:

          It’s good to see him again.

[ cover ]  for your muse to cover mine with a blanket or a jacket

[finn-writes-stuff]

Request you say friend well then let me have a go.

Can I ask for the dimi sisters distracting their s/o during their works hours. Please and thank

(PS) I hope you are having a fantastic day/night

Distractions

They're such menaces <3

Dimitrescu Sisters x Reader

Fandom: Resident Evil 8

Format: Drabbles ( words)

Warnings: 

Gender-neutral Reader

Fandom Masterlist Commission Info

Bela

"My darling, have you finished your work yet?"

She was leaning over your shoulder as you sat at your desk, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"No, not yet honey."

You could feel her countenance change, pouting, even as you kept your eyes on your work. She kissed your cheek again and then again, starting to trail her lips along your jaw.

"Will you be done soon? Is there anything I can do to hurry you along?"

Cassandra

Your door clattered open and you grinned, recognizing the familiar sound of your lover coming inside.

"Baby? What are you doing at your desk?" Cass asked you, approaching to sit on the arm of your chair, leaning into you.

"I'm working, I'll be done soon."

"That's boring. Have you considered taking a break? You've got a beautiful woman back from a hunt vying for your attention. You can't be hunched over a desk." She pushed herself into your lap, effectively blocking your work. "I'll convince you if you let me."

Her smile was wicked as she curled her hand up along your neck.

"So what do you say, baby?"

Daniela

"Sweetheart? There you are!" Dani poked her head into the library and as you looked up, you saw her light up. "I've been looking for you everywhere! What are you doing all cooped up in here?"

"I'm getting some work done, this is the quietest room in the castle."

"Oh? Well are you almost done? I've been missing you!"

"No, not quiet, dear, I'm sorry."

She frowned for a moment but her face quickly cleared. She snatched up a book from one of the shelves and set herself up on the floor next to your chair.

"May I sit with you until you're done then?"

[incendioexcrucio]

@tulihunter @sleepybabeee

You open your mouth to say everything you’ve kept inside for weeks for months for years and yet the only thing that comes out is a silent puff of breath. Even though what you want to say is you’re so tired you can’t bear the thought of moving your feet forward another inch, and you’re so cold you could have sworn you’d have frozen to death by now, and you’re so scared you can’t remember what it felt like to simply exist in a place for any space of time without fearing a wand would explode a violent green flash of light at your face from a distance at any given moment in time, and how you’d forgotten what it felt like to be warm, or safe, or happy, or loved.

How you’re repulsed by your own life and the atrocities committed by your own hand, how you’d have given anything to just turn the piece of wood in your hand on yourself and put an end to the barbarity. But the thought of her and the promise of safety and warmth and love is the only thing that keeps you moving one foot after another, weaving a winding trail of dark red spots in the snow.

She doesn’t deserve this, she doesn’t deserve the reticence, the months with no news, the days that stretch by unending with worrying and wondering and fear. She deserves more, she deserves for her days to be filled with adventures and the promise of safety, she deserves a man who comes home to her at night and holds her in his arms with certainty that he won’t have to leave at a moments notice, at the first whisper of flames licking at an ugly blackened stain on the inside of his left arm, who smiles more, who’s eyes aren't hollow and empty where light once shone from them. She deserves someone not him. 

She deserves life, and light and you can never give her those things, and yet you can’t let her go. Not now, not when she’s the only light you’ve ever known, not when she’s the only warmth you've ever felt, or the safest place you’ve ever been, not when the storm calms when she speaks. Not now....

[dimigex]

Made with Love - Kakayama

For @vibgyoroygbiv lovely art that you can find here. I’ve been meaning to write this forever. Thank you for always sharing your amazing art with all of us! Just a day late for Valentine’s day.

Glancing at the clock from the corner of one eye, Tenzo tightened his hand into a fist then released the tension hoping to work some blood flow back into his tired fingers. He was nearly finished with his project, but it was almost time for Kakashi to be home as well. Tenzo frowned at the open book on the table beside him and reread the diagram for the hundredth time, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. Huffing, he snipped out the stitches that he’d just done and started again. 

When Tenzo finished, he eyed the plush toy in his hands. The head protector was longer on one side, and the eyes were a bit too close together. The felt that he’d found for the hair was more auburn than brown and stiffer than he’d wanted to use. He sighed, closed Learning to Sew for Dummies, and tucked it away in a drawer. Tenzo would take it back to the library tomorrow. It hadn’t been much help anyway. 

Tenzo thought about the stuffed Kakashi that Sakura had gifted him a couple of months ago. Kakashi’s original jealousy had been adorable, but the man had eventually come around to appreciate the smaller version of himself, even liking it though he’d never admit as much. Tenzo routinely moved the plush around the apartment to surprise Kakashi, letting it get into all kinds of mischief. The man had laughed for days after they’d found Little Kakashi reading Icha, Icha on the couch one morning. 

Everything had been going well until Kakashi decided that he needed a plush Yamato to match. Fifteen stores and a lot of frustration later, Kakashi gave up. He hadn’t liked Tenzo’s reasoning that Team Seven had been the heroes of the war so of course there were replicas to be found Yamato and Sai were insignificant afterthoughts compared to the founding members. Tenzo hadn’t meant anything by it and he didn’t feel any jealousy over the spotlight the four of them shared, but the words bothered Kakashi. 

Kakashi’s disappointment had woken something in Tenzo, a desire to surprise the man in a way that he never had before. Now, looking at the imperfect miniature of himself, he wondered if he shouldn’t have taken another route. His creation looked nothing like the professional quality of the one Sakura had gotten him. It was obviously handmade, and the imperfections were glaring. Tenzo sighed and looked at the head protector again. The leaf had been giving him trouble, so he’d changed it to a heart instead. The entire thing looked so pathetic that he considered stuffing it in the drawer beside the book and--

The sound of a key in the lock pulled Tenzo from his thoughts. He glanced at the clock in shock, surprised that he’d spent so much time trying to perfect the final details. He swiped everything from the desk and dumped it into the open drawer, leaving the plush where it sat, slumped by the lamp. Tenzo hurried toward the door. Kakashi groaned as he stepped through the door, but his eyes brightened when they fell on his lover. “I thought you’d still be at work. Didn’t you have some reporting to finish up?”

“It didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” Tenzo offered, especially since I had Sai do most of it. But, Kakashi didn’t need to know that. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

“Of course,” Kakashi answered, planting a light kiss on Tenzo’s cheek. He shook his head while taking off his sandals. “But, having you home early makes it a little hard to surprise you with Valentines dinner.” 

Tenzo chuckled and inclined his head. “It’s difficult to surprise me with it, yes. But you can cook and do the dishes, and I’ll act surprised if you like.” 

Laughing, Kakashi started toward the kitchen. Halfway across the room, he paused. “What’s Little Ka--” the man cut off mid-sentence and walked closer to the desk. He picked up the plush, eying the obvious brown hair where he’d expected silver. “What’s this?” 

“I wanted to make you something, but turns out that I’m not very good at sewing.” Tenzo rubbed the back of his neck as a blush colored his cheeks. Kakashi didn’t answer, tracing his fingers over the hair then the heart on the headband. The heat in Tenzo’s face deepened toward crimson. “I thought I might be able to use it as a template for someone in the village to make a better one.”

“No,” Kakashi interrupted before the argument could fully form. “Don’t you dare think of letting someone else change him. He’s perfect.” 

Tenzo laughed, shaking his head. “He’s far from it. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it was to do those pockets on the flak vest. That’s why the ones on the right are loose and--”

The words died when Kakashi half tackled Tenzo in a hug that pressed the plush between them. Before he could ask for an explanation, Kakashi’s mouth was against his in a kiss that made his excuses seem insignificant. The room spun when they broke apart. “He’s perfect,” Kakashi repeated against Tenzo’s lips, grey eyes surprisingly intent. ”And, you’re perfect.” 

If Tenzo had blushed before, it was nothing compared to now. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmured. 

Kakashi smiled and caught Tenzo’s hand. “Come on, let’s go introduce them to each other.” The man flashed a smirk over his shoulder, increasing Tenzo’s heart rate exponentially. “Then, I’m going to show you just how much I appreciate this, so we’ll probably want to cover their eyes.”  

[thottyhrs]

Another drabble between me and Lady Dimi! uwu

This one is more just filler fluff before we got married. I still need to figure out the whole series of events that led to us meeting and such.

“Ow!” I hissed as a strong sting pierced my fingertip. I dropped the book out of instinct as tears welled up in my eyes. Damn thing gave me a paper cut. I quickly looked around for any sort of bandage— as the blood dripped from the fresh wound, I couldn’t help but feel I was bait in the water. This house was full of bloodsucking monsters, at this point I might as well be shark food.

“Slacking on the job, I see.”

Speak of the devil—

I stood straight, facing forward towards the source of the voice with my hands behind my back. It just had to be the Lady of house, didn’t it?

“N-No, m’am! I was—“

“I already had one of the other maids dust the library. There is no reason for you to be here.”

“Forgive me, My lady… I’ll get right back to work.” I said, a sorrowful expression grew on my face as I bowed my head to her. Before I could try and leave, she stopped me.

“What are you hiding from me?” Lady Dimitrescu asked with a raised eyebrow. “N-Nothing—“

“You’ve already frustrated me with your negligence and I do not take kindly to lies. Now, care to repeat yourself?”

I chewed my lower lip, small beads of sweat dripped down my back once I realized how much hot water I was truly in. It was foolish to think I could sneak under her radar like that. She could probably already smell the blood as soon as she walked in.

“It’s just a paper cut. It won’t worsen my work. I promise, my lady.” I said, showing her my hand. My finger was still bleeding pretty badly— I didn’t realized how deep the cut was. She took my wrist, bringing my hand closer to her face to inspect injury— which, in turn, forced me closer to her. My heart began racing as the room grew an intense silence. A smile began to slowly creep across her face.

“Even so… shouldn’t let it get infected.”

My face grew as hot as a tea kettle— watching her take my finger into her mouth, feeling her tongue gently press against my cut and sip the blood— it was something out of a dream. I could hear her gulp and let out a barely audible hum. Her grip on my wrist tightened as she continued to drink from my weeping wound. A part of me wanted to rip away, as my finger started to sting with pain— but on the other hand, I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to wiggle out of her iron grasp. And another part of me wanted to ignore the pain and enjoy the moment— which is precisely what I ended up doing.

It didn’t take much longer for her to finally release my finger, licking her lips in satisfaction and staring down at me. It felt her eyes were piercing into my mind, reading through every inappropriate thought I had about her. “Such a sweet flavor…” She muttered to herself. “Delicious both inside and out~”

My heart sunk— a mix of fear and strange infatuation ran through my body like a train at full speed. All the maids that had come and gone, the wails at night, the basement no one ever came back from—

I quickly pulled my hand away from her, rubbing my wrist as I kept my gaze down to my feet. I couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore. I swallowed harshly, my mind racing with billions of excuses before I finally blurted out—

“I’ve taken too much of your time. Excuse me…”

Without a moments hesitation, I bolted out of the room, closing the door behind me and leaving Lady Dimitrescu alone— I didn’t dare look back.

Once I was alone in the halls, I laid against the wall— my hand clutched my chest as my heart wouldn’t calm it’s beat. She’s a monster, I told myself. She’s hurt so many people— you should hate her! Even so… that encounter was something I would never forget— I wouldn’t want to forget it. I dream about her every night, she never escapes my thoughts. That moment only fueled my desire for the Lady of the castle, my desire to tell her how much I cared for her—

Emotions began to overwhelm me as tears started to form. No! No time for crying, you idiot. Forget about your weird obsession with Alcina Dimitrescu, you have work to do! As I collected my thoughts, I strolled down the halls and went back to my duties.

[claudemblems]

Oh Kat 🥺 If you want to leave then we are all going to support you, because this is about you as a person. If you dont feel good anymore or of it isnt fun, you really dont have to push yourself or feel frustrated at all. I thank you for everything and for all your fics, all of them made me smile and helped me to go through some dark stuff. I really love your writing but I also love you so I hope you do what makes you feel better. Oh and, good luck with college! Love you♡ –Felix-dimi loving anon

Now I really think I can’t leave cause this made me emo oh boy here come the tears

I know I’m not being very sensible right now and I’m acting on my emotions. I know I could never actually leave this blog behind. But I guess I just wanted to see if it really mattered enough to people and they still wanted to see my writing. Honestly if I can’t handle this I won’t make it as a professional author so I really need to make myself understand this is just a part of the process. I’m also very glad my work helped you through tough times. To hear that my little drabbles made someone happy means the world to me.

And I’m nearly done with this semester :,) Monday is when my finals are due. I’m ready to be done