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shushmal · 5 months

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A Truth Acknowledged

one time i made a post about regency omegaverse steddie and i found it again so here's a potential part one if the spirit compels me again i'll continue

The house has been quiet for many years now, so Steve is not unused to the stillness that's long settled over Harrington House. He much prefers it, even. At twenty and four years, unwed and without a mother or a tutor to tame him, Steve has grown as wild as his home has grown quiet, left often to his own company. Since his presentation, he's roamed the hills of Loch Nora to his pleasure, long days of solitude interrupted only when his father calls him to his side for some soiree or ball, where Steve is bid to perform as a proper omega should: to dance, to simper, to laugh, to sing—and sometimes, as improper, to be pulled into secluded rooms to be sampled.

It's the reparations to be paid for a thing like him to be born. Steve bears it best he can, knowing he'll return home to be left to his own again. Quiet house, green hills, a loneliness he is safe in.

Until, of course, his father's pockets grow too shallow. And it is time for Steve to perform once more.

Except this time, there's a new face in Harrington House.

"Stephen," his father calls, all false pleasantry and cheer. "I'd like you to come meet young Mister Munson. He is our new neighbor, he and his uncle are staying up at the Thompson estate for the summer."

"I see," Steve says, trying to gather his thoughts between the wool gathering in his head. No one has visited their home since Steve's presentation. "I... I'm very glad to meet your acquaintance, Mister Munson."

Mister Munson, with his round face and large eyes, seems to struggle just as much as Steve does. "J-Just Eddie—I mean, Edward is fine," he says, stumbling over his words. He has a thick accent, and the air of a man learning to speak with the same pomp and confidence as Steve's father. "A pleasure to meet you, as well."

"I thought you might like to show Mister Edward the garden," his father says. He looks at Steve with cold calculation, and Steve feels himself being weighed and priced where he stands.

"Of course," Steve says, dipping his head.

Though Mister Edward doesn't offer his arm, Steve still takes it, hooking their elbows together as Mister Edward fumbles himself into a more proper position. Steve does it smoothly though, and gently pulls Mister Edward out into the sunlight.

He can't help but notice that the two relax minutely once they're out from his father's direct eye. Mister Edward does stay overly stiff though, as Steve leads them along the overgrown garden path, and when he looks up, Steve has to smother a smile to find Mister Edward's face pink across his nose and cheeks, all the way to his ears.

"You must forgive us, Mister Edward," Steve says, his voice soft and intimate. "The two of us are unused to visitors this far into the country."

"Nothing to forgive. If anything, please forgive me," he says, unsure and awkward. "I don't— Is it proper for me to be alone with you?"

Steve truly must fight the smile from his face. "Shall be frank with you, Mister Edward?"

"God, please," Edward breathes, a man out of his depth. "I'm not used to the ways you rich folk talk about nothing but actually say a whole lot."

Laughing, Steve jostles the two of them a little, glad he's gotten Mister Edward to relax enough to speak plainly. "Don't worry, I will translate for you, best I can," he says. Probably a little foolishly. Steve's having his first conversation with the man and already hoping to hang on his arm long enough have more.

Yet, it's worth it, because Edward turns to him with a smile on his face like Steve's handed him a Christmas miracle. "Will you, now?" he asks, a giddy grin crawling his face. "Well tell it to me, pretty thing, why in the world did your fancy father invite a ruffian like me here to meet someone as sweet as you?"

Steve feels himself pinken. Alphas of all types have said many a crude thing to him, but this earnest flirting easily turns Steve's head. What a foolish omega he is.

"I'm sure my father means for us to court and marry."

"My god! Are you sure? Is he mad?" Mister Edward gapes at him. "A proper noble like you married to me?"

Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. Proper. How silly!

"A proper noble like me is still an omega, and a man at that. I'm not a suitable pick to bear heirs," Steve tells him. "He's after your money."

"What money?" Edward laughs. Like his strings have been cut, Edward relaxes against him, his gait a swaying thing, pulling Steve along as they bump together along their ill-given journey. "I don't have a cent to me! It's all my uncle's, you know. He never married, and then my mother wrote him when I came of age and shipped me off to be his heir for a sack of coins. I grew up in London, working in factories."

He lifts his right hand to Steve, showing where two of his fingers are part missing at the first knuckle.

"I was born a roughneck, Stevie," he says, not looking at Steve anymore. Steve should scold him for being so familiar, but instead he finds he likes it. "Born poor and starving. My uncle can dress me up and give me all kinds of lessons, but I'll always be what I was born."

"Well," Steve says, shocked to find himself a little breathless. He watches Edward's profile for a moment longer, watching the unease settling on that handsome brow, twist in his mouth. "It seems we match rather well then, don't you think?"

Edward—Eddie turns to him with wide eyes. "Are you mad?" he asks. As he speaks, he leans in close, until their breaths share air. "Don't you want a good, proper alpha of good stock? Keep you nice and comfy up in some castle?"

"Not particularly," Steve tells him, truthfully. "My father would want nothing more than to marry me off to a high born alpha, to keep a house and have children, and to bring the Harrington name some sort of recognition once again."

Steve turns then, looking down the path and away from Eddie's eyes, so focused on Steve and his words. No one has listen to Steve speak with such attention before.

"I'd much rather marry for love," he admits on a quiet breath. Beside him, Eddie was a line of heat and weight, pressed against him, his gaze burning. "Or, if I can't have love, then at least for friendship. I'd rather not be alone anymore."

"I see," Eddie says.

Turning back to him, Steve gets caught once again in those intense eyes, dark and warm. He has to remind himself, again, that he's just met this alpha, that it's silly to entertain thoughts of love and companionship with a man he's only spoken to this once. Even if Eddie looks at Steve like he could look at him for the rest of his life.

"Well," Eddie says, turning back towards their destination, but letting his hand travel down Steve's arm, until he can link their fingers together. "I suppose we are quite a match, after all then."

Steve can't stop the smile that curves his lips this time, turns his head to try and hide it. "Yes," he agrees, "I suppose, we are."

#stranger things #steddie #my fic #catch me shoving a ton of backstory into 1.2k words hahaha #revisiting my austen and bronte roots #my steddies

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evilminji · 7 months

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We all know how Vlad likes to make clones of Danny and then get rid of them when they don't work out I'm just imagining a entire crack filled idea Ra is one of those clones I just got accidentally into a dimension.

Ra got thrown all the way back in time in a different dimension and is incredibly pissed at Vlad for creating him and worried about Danny if Vlad making more clones like Ra

Out of spite not only does Ra come immortal and try to do glad when it comes to doing shady things to make Danny proud aka the best mother of all times he's also trying to make the world a better place he got the weird balance of Danny along with Vlad obsessions. 100 years into making the colt and being alive Danny finds out about Ross existence as the ghost King and decides you know what I support all my children as a mother even when they are starting coats or planning world domination, and destruction. In the straight up tells Ra don't kill too many people you make mom's job harder and anytime you need something call me I'm proud of you for at least waiting to make the world a better place. Like on the scale of good and bad Danny placed him right in the middle Ellie wants to be a hero and a traveler so if she's in the top when it comes to the good skeleton in the middle scale is Ra cuz does he own a cult yes but he also wants to make a world a better place, and Dan is at dead last for just wanting destruction sometimes but he's working on it he does clay art now.

Ra also inherited Danny's ability to make things chaotic without even trying. I just see Rose dropping to Talia and Damien sometimes while your great/grandmother was country but other than I don't think we have any more races mixed with us.

Or he just drops I'm not laying tally I have the sleeping normally my mother was 14 when he had my siblings in me and mother described it as going to do with excruciating hell.

Talia has been tired argument with Ra after he accidentally just straight up says well great grandfather was grandmother's uncle he did go to school with mother's parents and was best friends with mother's father.

Tim is so confused and all he wants his answers in the background .

I can just see Ra comparing Damien's fearless his old mother's fear illness he will mention of nowhere mother fist fought father when they first met or mother can break a wall with a single hit of their head.

Talia is going to be so confused when they find out that only is mother a crazy batshit person he's also the ghost King.

Talia staring at Grandma who is the ghost King: father did you not think this was important to tell me sooner.

Ra: I have mentioned this before in one of my conversations about mother you just weren't listening Talia.

Danny in the background frelingover his kid and his grandchildren along with great grandchild.

Ra full name is Ra Al Ghul 'Dirgham' Fenton Master

Danny says they had to keep with the cycle of the names no matter where they are in the name.

(This is also my secret chance to finally Vlad Masters as Arabic you can pray that out of my cold dead hands Danny American-born Chinese who who has a very strong country accident because of his father)

Any who don't have to write this I just hope you had a good laugh form my stupid writing I really do love your work hope you have a fun time reading this ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／

Not stupid! I got my first Ficlette! :D this is amazing and thank you! I did enjoy it!

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp

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shinestarhwaa · 7 months

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ILLICIT AFFAIRS || CHO MIYEON

This piece broke me, apologies x

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Miyeon x Fem reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Tags/Warnings: Closeted lesbians, Forbidden Love, High society/Bridgerton inspired, 1800s, Princess!Miyeon, Aged down Miyeon (you and her are both 18 years old), unprotected sex, virginity loss, make outs, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, scissoring, overstimulation, grinding/humping, emotional damage, heartbreak

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @wh0re4yunsangho

ENJOY!

February 10th, 1815

You couldn't help but look at her all night. It was as if the entire world paused and only she, she was moving. In fact, she was moving right into your heart and you swore you could literally feel it swell in your chest.

She was absolutely magnificent in her gown, hair pinned up and a beautiful, shining crown in her hair. The jewelry she wore must cost millions and she truly did look like a million dollars, as they say. If only she'd look at you, right? And if only you were a man of royalty because how else would you ever be with her?

Yes, you were lucky enough to be born in the high society class, in a family that was wealthy, but the smile you wore everyday is fake. Your mother and father didn't marry out of love and they couldn't stand each other, always fighting. Honestly, you were used to it and you could definitely handle it, but that doesn't mean it hasn't had a negative effect on you and your sisters.

All five of them were different from you, they're more to the standard. Alice, Idylia, Florence and Genevieve were all married now to their husbands and the eldest two even had children. Florence and Genevieve both got married last season and your mother now forced you to find a husband this year's season.

You hated it, the way things were arranged in the society, but you couldn't possibly break the rules that have been the standard for so long. But you really do not want to fit into the society's standard, you are too emancipated according to your family and most important of all; you'd have to marry a man while all you can think about is princess Miyeon.

Princess Miyeon and her beautiful hair, her slim body, deer eyes and her elegant manners. You were a little clumsier than that, and you didn't truly mind but somehow you wished you were more elegant and calculated so maybe she'd like you. But you had to get those thoughts out of your head, you told yourself, nothing could ever happen. You are a woman and she's the royal princess, she's the heir, she's to be queen one day. She'll probably be excited to have a king by her side to rule the country with.

But fuck, you wanted her. You had met her long ago and spoke to her a few times because you played together as kids when the adults held their party's or fancy balls if you will. As you and Miyeon turned older she got more reserved, held back and protected by her family. She looked sad though, she must want to be more free.

Suddenly you looked eyes with her and you swore your heart stopped. She flashed you a smile and walked up to you. "Y/N, it is lovely to see you again, it has been a long time, hasn't it?" She said. You bowed to her and smiled kindly. "Princess Miyeon, your grace, I'm glad to see you again too, it has been years indeed."

"The ball is kinda boring, is it not?" She giggled. You smiled, recognizing the mischief she had in her eyes when she was still an innocent child. When the world hadn't caused her pain yet. "It sure is a quiet one," you nodded.

"Do you wanna go for a walk? Let's sneak out," she grinned. It truly was just like old times again. The two of you slipped away from the stunning ballroom and ran through the halls. Your heels were clicking on the floor and your giggles and laughs were echoing throughout the halls.

Miyeon stopped running and entered the balcony, taking a deep breath as she leans on the cold white stone. "Your grace, isn't it too cold to be outside? It is still winter and I do not want you to catch a cold," you said worriedly, stepping onto the balcony with her.

She grinned and sighed. "It does not matter, Y/N. I'm just glad I finally can breathe again. I love the fresh air and I hate staying inside all day, drinking tea with my mother. Ever since my father died she's been so..."

Miyeon stopped talking and sighed. Your heart sank, remembering the terrible news from last year when it was announced the queen's husband; king Theodore had fallen sick and passed away in his sleep.

"It has been hard on her, and now she's making it even harder for me because she's pushing me to get married and have children so there'll be more heirs."

Princess Miyeon is the only child of Queen Isabella and the late king Theodore, as they hadn't spend much time together in their younger years due to wars and battles. Queen Isabella raised her on her own while also ruling the country. You had felt bad for Miyeon, it must be a tough and lonely life for her. Maybe, just maybe, you could spend more time with her, as a friend?

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

April 29th 1815

Time passed and you and Miyeon had actually gotten closer to her as a friend. The queen was glad Miyeon had a lady of great class that Miyeon could trust so she elected you to be the princess' court. You'd spend a lot of time with her, the queen told you, and to be honest you couldn't be happier.

In public you were very professional but behind closed doors you joked and played around like every normal 18-year old girl. You drank tea together and discussed all the drama and gossip going around and you shared wisdom with one another, reading books together.

Today Miyeon was feeling particularly mischievous and she took you with her to one of the big libraries in the palace. You were checking out the books when all of a sudden her voice called out to you.

''Y/N, What do you know about the marital act?''

You froze and looked at her. ''The marital act? You mean the wedding night... occurrence?'' ''Yeah, do you know what that is?'' You sat on the couch next to her and looked at the book she held in her hands. ''I don't know much about that, actually, my family has never told me about it except for my sister Florence. She told me there's a thing that married people do and that's how children are made.''

Miyeon nodded and opened the dusty book. It revealed texts about the marital act with pictures and details of male and female anatomy. ''That's what a naked man looks like? That is the...'' ''That's the penis,'' you said, nodding. ''It looks strange,'' Miyeon comments. You nodd and sigh. ''I agree, I'm not really... attracted to it. Or the man,'' you say. You mentally slap yourself for basically confirming your sexuality but Miyeon seems to skip over it.

''I have never seen it before. I have only seen myself naked.''

You felt like your skin was on fire, why did she have to talk about her being naked? As if you hadn't imagined that enough already. ''Are women's bodies different?'' she asks. You grin and play with your bracelet nervously. ''You're a curious one, for sure. Well, me and my sisters' bodies are all different... Some of them are taller, some have bigger breasts, some of them have bigger buttocks or thighs...''

''And the... crotch area? Is that the same?'' Your cheeks were bright red about now. ''T-The crotch area? You mean the... the vulva. I haven't seen my sisters', that is a little... inappropriate.'' Miyeon nodds, understanding that it's a more private matter. ''Sometimes I think about what it would be like to touch another woman's body. I wonder if it's different,'' she confesses.

You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, and you were most definitely aroused now. It was only because of Florence - who is definitely your favourite sister - that you learned about what arousal is and what you can do about it, what you can to do yourself. Even though you don't understand the entire concept of these so called 'sexual' acts and feelings, your instinct is to touch yourself between your legs and now you definitely feel the desire to do the same to her.

Fuck.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 11th, 1815

It has been about two weeks since your feelings for the crown princess started to develop into something more. You felt such affection and fondness while looking at her. You wanted to kiss her lips and carress her, and also undress her and lay naked with her, desiring to feel pleasure with her. You secretly stole the book from the library and in the back there were several drawings that were vague and nearly crossed out, but you could see well enough that the drawings and texts were about sex between women.

You had never seen, heard or read anything like this but you could not stop. At every waking moment you wanted to look at the drawings again, imagining princess Miyeon and yourself and at night you touched yourself. You did it all night long, dreaming about her and her body. You thought you might be delusional because you felt like she might be experiencing the same things. Did she not say she wanted to touch another woman?

When you showed up in her room you felt some sense of guilt, because you felt like it was the most horrible thing in the world to do. But her sweet and kind smile and her beautiful feminity made you forget that guilt. She seeked more touch than before, giving you hugs, holding onto your arm and hand and she even gave you a kiss on the cheek when you left her last Tuesday night.

Miyeon's welcome was warm as always and you sat in her room without any guards, just hanging out as two normal girls, not caring about your statusses. Once again Miyeon started to talk about the sexbook and you hold back a frustrated groan. You just nodd along and listen to her rants as she keeps on talking and babbling about it.

''So I don't know if I would ever have sex again if I had a child. Sex with a man doesn't interest me much. Would it not be easier to be with a woman? Know how the body works? It seems like... like a good time,'' she finally says, leaving you with your mouth wide open. What did she just say?

''You feel that too?'' you breathed out. ''I do... Maybe all women feel like that. I think women are prettier, more delicate.'' You literally could not breathe at this point, your core aching for her. ''Have you ever kissed anyone, your grace?'' Miyeon shook her head. ''No, but I have read about it and I saw other people doing it.'' ''Ah, I understand,'' You nodded.

''Would you like to kiss me, Y/N?'' She swiftly and suddenly said. You gasped a little as Miyeon scooched closer to you, her leg brushing up against yours. ''I... I would like that, princess,'' you nodded. Miyeon rested her soft and dainty hand on your cheek, carressing your face ever so gently. You leaned in and pressed your lips on hers, pecking her softly before pulling back. A fire broke out in your body, it was burning with passion as you stared into her eyes. Miyeon licked her lips and closed the space between you, pulling you close and putting your lips together again.

Her head tilted to the right as your lips moved together. It felt so nice and smooth and you felt the desire to deepen the kiss more. You pulled her even closer and felt her torso against yours, the sensation of your chests coming together sent a lightning bolt straight to your core. Her hands ran through your hair now, as yours ran over her back and hips. The material of her expensive dress felt so nice in your hand you wanted to keep touching it but you desired to feel her skin even more.

Your hands now slid from her back to her buttocks and you grabbed it, pinching and squeezing it. She whimpered softly, lips parted against yours. The princess slid her tongue in your mouth, slowly gliding it against your own and tasting each other's saliva. You felt so warm, like you'd combust. To your disappointment she pulled away from you after a few minutes, panting softly.

How were the two of you ever gonna move on from this?

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 20th, 1815

Apparently, you did not have to move on from it, because it kept happening. Miyeon kept kissing you from morning 'til late at night, in her room, hallways and secret places. Your hands, lips and tongues were all over each others ever since the first time. You're in the library once again and you lifted her on the dark wooden table in the center of the room. Your tongue glides over her neck and she throws her head back, moaning out softly.

Miyeon tugs down the top of her dress so that her breasts pop out. You curse underneath your breath and pepper kisses from her neck and collarbones down to her chest. Your hands reach up to her breasts and fondle them gently, watching her face closely. You kiss them and then close your lips around her left nipple, licking and sucking on it. She mewls and squirms underneath your touch and instinctively widens her legs.

''Y-Y/N,'' she moaned softly. The princess takes your dominant hand in hers and brings it underneath her dress, to her crotch. Your hand grazes the fabric of her underwear and it's so wet, so goddamn wet.

''You're so aroused, aren't you, my princess?'' You teased as you rubbed over her clothed crotch. ''Y-Yes, my lady, my Y/N, I'm so hot right now, please, I have read so many texts about this and I want it, I want it, please, I know you can make me feel good, please, God, I want it!'' she begged.

A smirk played on your lips and you pushed the bombastic skirt of her dress up and pulled her underwear down, revealing her glistening wet cunt. You looked at it up close, admiring how it's similar and yet a little different than your own. But it was wet in the exact same slick way yours got when you thought about the princess.

''I'm going to touch you now,'' you announced, spreading her legs wider. Your fingers slid through her folds, collecting her juices before pushing one finger inside her. ''Relax,'' you ordered her as you felt her body tense up. She nodded and watched you pump your finger in and out of her pussy slowly.

When you noticed her body relaxing you moved it faster and harder, opening her up before adding a second finger. You scissor your fingers inside her and curl them just right so it hits all the sweet spots inside her. You take off her panties and stuff them in her own mouth to keep her quiet. Her pussy clenches around your fingers and you decide to use your other hand to play with her clit. This is one of those times where you're thankful for having perfect co-ordination between your hands.

The princess is squeeling, whimpering and squirming as you move your fingers faster and put pressure on her clit. Her body tenses again and you know she's close to orgasming. You keep going and rub her clit even faster. ''That's it, princess, you're gonna come for me now, you'll come like the perfect princess you are,'' you breathed out, surprised at your own vulgar talk.

In a matter of seconds Miyeon came undone, coming and squirting so hard on your fingers, arousal seeping out of her pussy. She drenches herself and you in her juices and you ride out her orgasm before retracting your fingers from her wet hole.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 23rd, 1815

The Queen threw another party in her gigantic ballroom for the debutants and other ladies to find a suitor and both you and Miyeon were expectant to look for one tonight, but you sneaked off again. This time she brought you to a room full of artworks that were just collecting dust, meaning barely anyone came here in the past weeks, if not months.

She crashed her lips on yours again, sinking into your embrace and feeling your warm body against hers. You pulled away minutes later and panted, wiping the lipgloss from your cheek. "Princess, should we be doing this here?"

"Y/N, my dearest I keep thinking about you. About your hand between my legs, and your lips on my breasts, but that is not all. I think about your kind and beautiful face, your beautiful laugh and your golden heart. I think... I think I might have fallen in love with you, my dear."

You gasped softly, stunned at the sudden confession from the heir. "But princess, do you not know this is impossible? You need to find a suitor to be your king, you have to focus on ruling the country. It is... definitely not possible for us to be anything," you muttered.

Her eyes became glassy, welling up with tears, but as she learned she held them in. "But Y/N, I love you," she whispered. Her hand carressed your cheek softly, her fingers grazing your jaw. "Our love isn't impossible, I know you want me too."

"But the situation is impossible, in years you'll be the queen and you cannot... you cannot be a queen without a king and children. And even if you were, you couldn't be a queen who loved another woman. It's scandalous!"

"If I'm the queen can't I just... change the rules?" "You know damn well that you can't, Miyeon, you'll be a queen and not God" you spat. "Well fuck God, to hell with God!" You gasped and palmed her mouth. "Do not shout these things princess, please, we'll get caught and you'll get in a blasphemy scandal."

She took a deep breath and took your hands in hers. "I only want to be by your side. Can we do at least that?"

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 4th, 1815

You just came back to the palace from a long walk with the princess, which was more of a date because you felt like you were out with your lover. You talked about the world and about happy things while you held hands and laughed. Now you brought her back to her room and before the staff got to say anything Miyeon told them that you would be helping her get a bath and get ready for bed. You bowed to the staff and send them off, then closing the doors to Miyeon's room.

She pushed you up against them immediately. The gold ornaments on the door was gold on your chest but the hands gripping your buttocks firmly set you on fire once again. "Finally we are all alone," she whimpered in your ear as she pressed herself against you. You felt her breasts on your back and you wanted to turn around but her grip was surprisingly strong this time.

The princess grinded her crotch against your behind while her hands traveled up to your chest, pulling your dress down so your breasts sprung free. That's when she spun you around and fondled your breasts, kneeding them and massaging them just the way you like it. "Y/N, you drive me crazy, these... these beautiful breasts of yours, I wanna hold them all day long and I wanna touch you while I drown in your eyes," she sighs, kissing your breasts and lapping her tongue at your nipples.

"Why don't you drown between my legs instead?" You moaned softly, smirking slightly. You helped yourself and the princess out of your dresses and underwear, seeing each other completely naked for the very first time. Miyeon pulled you to the bed and you laid down on it together, embracing one another. "You're a beautiful woman, Y/N," she says with a smile, caressing your hip gently. "As are you, your grace." She laid you against her soft pillows and spread your legs wide. "I can not wait to taste you, my dear," she breathed out. "Then don't wait, please, do it, now." She nodds and licked a stripe up your wet pussy, tasting your arousal and smirking.

Her tongue glides along your folds, licking you up and again, and again until she tries to push it into your hole. You mewl and quickly cover your mouth with your right hand, stifling yourself as much as you could. After a few minutes of her tongue pumping and licking your inner walls she pulls out and finds your sensitive clit instead.

You cry out and grab the sheets tightly with your fists and moan at the sensation. It's one thing rubbing your clit with your own fingers but having the most beautiful woman on earth licking and sucking on it was something else. It didn't take Miyeon long to make you come undone on her tongue, lapping up your arousal as your body squirms.

When you gain your breath again you pull her on top of you, feeling her breasts on yours and rubbing them together slightly as you make out with her again. You notice yourself becoming impatient and wanting more so you flip yourselves over, getting on top of the princess. She looks at you with her big and beautiful brown eyes, patiently waiting with hunger in her eyes, curious as to what you're planning to do now.

You spread her legs and lift the right one up, letting it rest on your shoulder. She gasps as you align your sexes together, arousals colliding as you do so. "God, baby, Y/N, what are you doing to me?" She moaned. "I'm going to make love to you, princess, and I can do this sweetly, but I could also fuck you, fuck you hard," you grunted as you slowly rubbed your pussy on hers. "God, that sounds so good, please, that's what I want, Y/N, please do it hard and make me cum again," she begged. "Say no more, my princess," you nodded.

You started to rub your crotch on hers quicker, aligning your clits together and sparking a fire between your bodies. Both of your whimpers, moans and pleads were slowly becoming louder and louder, no longer thinking about keeping things quiet.

"Yes, yes, Y/N, that's so good, that feels amazing, my love, please do it harder, oh! O-oh that's good, yes! Please!"

Miyeon was a loud one, squeeling and moaning, nearly screaming as you quite literally rocked her world. The headboard of the bed was banging against the wall as you kept riding and grinding on her at a fast pace. The tension between you two was growing and both of you were getting close. You held each other as tight as you could while grinding together and quickly you both came, arousal dripping out of you and moans becoming a beautiful set of sinful harmonies.

When you stopped and laid down next to her, Miyeon still hadn't had enough, spreading your legs and putting her pussy on yours once again. She was still so sensitive from her previous orgasm, as were you, so it didn't take long before she started moving quicker and harder, moaning loudly. She threw her head back, her hair coming undone and falling onto her shoulders in lucious shiny curls.

Miyeon presses her lips onto yours as she keeps rocking into you, moaning into your mouth as she comes again in a matter of minutes, squirting on your pussy. "Fuck, fuck, princess!" You moaned against her lips. You flipped her over again, laying her down. The princess' head is laying over the edge of the bed and you set yourself back in the familiar position, grinding on her pussy, her pelvis, her thigh, you rubbed your pussy everywhere, chasing your own high.

"Yes, Y/N, Fuck! Use me! Rub it on me baby, rub it on me, use my body and make yourself come, give it to me, come for me!" You screamed loud and came, shuddering and shaking and falling on top of the princess. The two of you laid there for a while, sweaty and panting.

After a while you stood up and helped the princess up, carrying her to the bathtub. You drew the bath and helped her get in, massaging her skin and scrubbing her while pressing soft kisses on her lips. "I wish we could do that all day long," she sighed. "Me too," you nodded, washing her hair. "I love you, Y/N, You're my dearest love." You sighed but smiled and kissed her. It hurt you when she said those things, because you were realistic enough to know this was gonna end badly and you'd end up in pain. So you didn't ever say it back. But she knew.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 15th 1815

''Miyeon, my dearest,'' Queen Isabella said, ''I have found you a suitor! He will be attending the ball next Saturday. You will have to look your absolute best, yes?''

You swallowed thickly, looking down at the teacup in your lap. You tried hard to stay calm, and not to scream 'No! Don't take her from me just yet!' but you knew there was no use. If it's the Queen's orders Miyeon would have to obey her wishes. Miyeon nodded and cleared her throat. ''Yes mother... May I ask what he looks like? What his name is? Where he is from? Because... I would rather marry out of love but if I cannot then I will at least have to know who I marry, right?''

''That is not important. He is a good man, he is from France and we shall hold the wedding soon, after the two of you meet.''

Miyeon nodded, but she stayed quiet the entire time. When the Queen had left and you asked for a private conversation she bursted out in tears. ''Y/N,'' she cried, ''I do not want to marry that French prince, I wanna stay by your side!'' ''My princess, I will be on your side, except our situation will be different. You understand that what has been happening can not happen again.'' She sighed and brushed some hair out of her face and dried her cheeks. ''Not until after the wedding. I can still do whatever I want right now.''

The sovereign pulled you close in her arms and kissed your lips and then your neck. Her hands slid over the material of your dress and she pulled the skirt up, grazing your soft thighs. ''Oh, princess,'' you sighed out when her hand slid into your underwear, cupping your sex. She rubbed your folds as she kissed and sucked on your neck. ''Miyeon, oh God,'' you moaned when she entered you with two fingers. You wanted to stop her, tell her it would only hurt more if the two of you would continue this illicit affair, but you could not stop her. The power of her love and her being was too strong for you, and so you let her.

Her slender fingers pumped in and out of your pussy, making you wetter and moan her name into her mouth as she kisses you. It did not take long for you to come undone on her fingers, falling into her embrace.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 18th, 1815

Watching the love of your life meet her future husband was killing you inside. What was worse than that is the fact he was making her laugh and he was touching her hand. The hand that only belonged to you, the hand that fucked you just a few hours ago. Louis, was the guys name and you found him a snob, an arrogant man. Why was she laughing at everything he said?

You knew you tended to overthink certain situations but the way she looked at him showed you she was fond of him and you could not watch it any longer. You took a glass of champagne and drank the entire thing in a matter of seconds before exiting the ballroom. You sat in the hallway, where staff walked around but did not give a damn about how you fell to your knees and cried out. You were losing your love and nobody gave a damn.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 19th, 1815

''He's not too bad, luckily,'' Miyeon sighed after she told you about her fiancé. ''Not too bad? You were drooling all over him,'' you scoffed. ''Y/N, please, if I had a choice you know it would be you, not him. I'm just saying I'm glad he's not a total... twat.'' ''He is a twat, he is stealing you from me. You might end up with someone but what about me? I will not be living in a golden palace and I will not be having anyone's children and-''

''Y/N, for one moment, will you think about me?'' ''ALL, I think about, is you princess. You are my thoughts, you are my life, you are it.'' ''You have said yourself that this would hurt and it would not work out even before I did, why are you suddenly verbally attacking me? You knew this was going to happen.''

''So that means I cannot have feelings about this? That means I cannot hate him and feel outraged that he will kiss you and hold you while I rot away in my parents house?'' ''Y/N, please, I will be heartbroken too if I can never hold you again but you knew it was coming. This is not new information. I might be with you but I am still your princess!''

You swallowed your pride and looked down, nodding and taking a deep breath. ''Yes, your grace, princess.'' The tone in your voice was enough for Miyeon to know you drew a line. ''Come on, Y/N, do not do this, we still have a little while,'' she says, trying to take your hand but you step away and bow for her. ''I will not let you cheat on your fiancé, my princess, I shall head home now.'' You bowed once again and left princess Miyeon alone, in tears.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 21st, 1815

You were a weak woman, because only days later you were back in bed with Miyeon. Her body felt warm and delicate against your own skin. ''Princess,'' you called out softly. ''Do not speak, Y/N, do not say anything to... to stop this moment.'' You nodd and close the gap between your lips. They move together as you get on top of the beauty. You spread her bare legs and put your crotch on hers. The contact feels so good you throw your head back as you roll your hips forward. You bite back a moan as you bit your lips, breathing picking up as you grind your clit on hers.

''Y/N, Dear, please move faster, please make me finish on your beautiful cunt!'' she pleaded, holding your hips tight. ''Yes darling, my princess I'll make you come again, that is my duty.''

Your hands moved to her naked chest, fondling her breasts as you fucked yourself on her crotch, chasing your on relief. Miyeon was moaning over and over again, nails clawing in the soft flesh of your buttocks. ''Do it harder, harder!'' she screamed. ''Oh my God, oh my God!'' she squeeled when you did her just right. She moved her body along with yours and came hard, eyes rolling back to her brain. The sight of her coming for you made you come as well. You rode out your highs before getting off her but keeping her legs spread.

Miyeon whimpered when she felt two of your fingers dip into her core and she clenched around them. ''Y/N, please, t-too sensitive!'' she cried, but you did not care, you wanted to leave a memory and make her orgasm over and over again. Her arousal was seeping out of her cunt as you moved your fingers inside her quickly. Miyeon's breathing was picking up and with just a few more thrusts she squirted over your hand, coating you in her slick. Without giving her a chance to gain her breath again you kept going, determined.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 26th, 1815

The wedding bells were loud, too loud actually for you. It was incredibly hard to hold back the thick tears welling up in your eyes as you watched Miyeon walk out with her prince, her husband. It made you feel nauseous, you wanted to throw up and run away, cry, scream and disappear, knowing you have now lost her to someone else.

You bow to her and congratulate her as she walks by, and when she gets into the carriage you run away. You do not even know where you are running to but you are running, running far away from the church. You end up in the field you once sat in with her and you fell to your knees, not caring your dress would get dirty. You laid in the grass and looked up to the sky while tears fell from your eyes, rolling down your cheek. You missed her dearly, already, and this was only day one. From now on there would be a lifetime without her. Without anyone ever knowing she was once yours.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

#kpop #shinestarhwaa #gidle #g idle #smut #miyeon #cho miyeon #miyeon x reader

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billboard-hotties-tourney · 4 days

Text

Dolly Parton (1946-) solo Songs: "Jolene," "I Will Always Love You" Defeated Opponents: Alice Coltrane, Ruth Brown, Patti Smith, Linda Ronstadt, Donna Summer, Aretha Franklin Propaganda: "One of the best country (and any) musicians to grace us with her talents for decades! A bimbo with a brain and we love her! Beyoncé and Whitney Houston covered her songs. This woman supports women! And literacy! But also her voice is one of a kind and she knows how to command any stage she's on." "She's one of the world's best-selling musicians and she's an actress! Shes's also an advocate for LGBT rights, gives money to HIV/AIDS research, and many more causes. She donates one book per month to every kid born in Tennessee up until they're 5 years old. She put a lot of money into COVID research. Her large chest is so well-known that it's been written about in songs, military tanks have been named after her, and Dolly the cloned sheep shares her name. Also, she apparently wrote Jolene and Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You in the same day!" "She's adorable. She's funny. She smart and business savvy enough that she would probably be a billionaire if she wasn't also a genuinely wonderful human being who gives tons and tons of money away to various charities and causes. She's so supportive of younger artists and artists of color and the queer community. She's always so gracious and genuinely excited when new artists cover her songs. She's the best thing to ever come from the state of Tennessee and I love her entirely. We do not deserve her but I'm glad we have her."

Nina Simone (1933-2003) solo Songs: "Feelin' Good," "Wild is the Wind" Defeated Opponents: Siouxsie Sioux, Patsy Cline, Janis Joplin, Billie Holiday, Cher, Sister Rosetta Tharpe Propaganda: "She has a hard taking-no-shit attitude that instantly turns me on" "music peaked here everyone else can go home"

Visual Propaganda for Dolly Parton:

Visual Propaganda for Nina Simone:

#dolly parton #nina simone #miss billboard tourney #semifinals

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muiitoloko · 3 months

Note

I adore your writing youve got such an amazing style! I was just wondering if youd consider writing a Karl Hoffmeister story but the reader is a virgin? Maybe his new wife? Obviously your plot lines are always amazing and I'm sure if you chose to it'd be amazing it's just an idea :)

Title: The Arranged Alliance

Summary: A young woman navigates the complexities of an arranged marriage to a powerful industrialist, finding unexpected tenderness and the possibility of love amidst the union born of convenience and ambition.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warning: Smut

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for your kind words about my writing! 😊 I’m really glad you enjoy my style. Your idea for a Karl Hoffmeister story sounds fantastic, and I hope you’ll love the one I’ve prepared for you. Thanks for the inspiration! 😊

Also read on Ao3

Karl sat on the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh as the two of you entered the bedroom after the wedding reception. The grand festivities had done little to alleviate your nerves. You barely knew Karl, having had only a month to get acquainted. During that brief period, Karl had courted you, giving the appearance that you had a choice in the matter. But the reality was starkly different—your father had made it clear that you would marry Karl.

Karl Hoffmeister, one of the biggest industrialists in the country, was a man much older than you. Your father knew that marrying you to Karl would grant him significant influence and power. He had seized the opportunity, practically throwing you at Karl, who had accepted the arrangement with a calculated indifference.

Now, here you were, in a finely appointed bedroom, the weight of your father's ambitions and Karl's expectations pressing down on you. Karl’s hooked nose cast a shadow over his face as he looked at you with his piercing eyes, his mustache twitching slightly. His baritone voice broke the silence.

"Come, sit with me," Karl said, patting the space beside him on the bed.

You hesitated for a moment, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. Gathering your courage, you walked over and sat down, smoothing the fabric of your wedding dress nervously. The room felt oppressively quiet, the grandeur of your surroundings doing little to comfort you.

Karl turned slightly, his eyes softening as they met yours. "I understand that this situation is... less than ideal," he began, his voice gentle but firm. "You were thrust into this marriage without much say, and I want you to know that I am aware of that."

You swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "Yes, it's been overwhelming," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Karl reached out, taking your hand in his. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I will do my best to make this easier for you," he said, his eyes earnest. "You may not have had a choice in marrying me, but I will ensure that you have a voice in this marriage. Your comfort and happiness matter to me."

His words were unexpected, and they brought a small measure of relief. "Thank you," you replied softly, feeling a bit of the tension ease from your shoulders.

Karl released your hand and stood up, walking over to the window. He looked out at the night sky, the moon casting a soft glow over his features. "This union, while arranged for convenience and power, does not have to be devoid of companionship and respect," he continued. "I want us to find a way to coexist harmoniously, to build a life together that is more than just a transaction."

You watched Karl with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity in your gaze, but you said nothing, remaining silent. Your eyes roamed around the bedroom, trying to familiarize yourself with the space that you would now share with your husband. The room was grand, filled with elegant furniture and soft lighting, yet it felt foreign and intimidating.

Karl, in the meantime, began to take off his tie, his eyes never leaving you. He examined you closely, appreciating the sight of you in your wedding dress. You were beautiful, intelligent, and kind—everything he could want in a woman. He had to stop himself from attacking you, tearing that dress, and taking your virginity as he wanted. But Karl was not a savage; he was a gentleman above all. Besides, he could see the nervousness radiating from you, and he didn't want to frighten you on your first night together.

Yet, it was his wedding night, and he intended to enjoy it. His gaze became more intense as he finished removing his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt. "You look stunning, my dear," he said, his baritone voice soft but laced with desire. "The sight of you in that dress... it's almost too much to bear."

You blushed, feeling the heat of his gaze on you. "Thank you," you replied softly, your voice trembling slightly.

Karl stepped closer, his shirt now hanging open, revealing a broad, thick chest. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I want to make tonight special for you," he murmured, his fingers trailing down your cheek to your neck. "But I also want you to feel comfortable. This is as much about you as it is about me."

His touch sent shivers down your spine, a mix of nervousness and unexpected desire. "I... I appreciate that," you stammered, unsure of what to say.

Karl smiled, a reassuring yet predatory glint in his eyes. "Why don't we start by getting you out of that dress?" he suggested, his voice low and inviting. "I promise to be gentle."

You nodded, standing up slowly. Karl's hands moved to your back, finding the intricate buttons that held your dress together. He worked them open with surprising ease, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending electric shocks through your body. As the dress began to loosen, he leaned in, his lips grazing your ear. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to see all of you."

The dress slipped off your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You stood there in your delicate undergarments, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. Karl stepped back, his eyes raking over your body with a hunger that was barely contained. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He moved closer, his hands sliding over your bare shoulders and down your arms, pulling you against him. You could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of your chemise, his arousal pressing against you. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding. "Yes," you replied, your voice barely audible.

Karl smiled, a dark, knowing smile. "Good," he said, his hands moving to the ties of your chemise. "Because tonight, I want to explore every inch of you, make you mine in every way."

He untied the chemise, letting it fall away, leaving you completely bare before him. His eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight of you, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive, yet gentle touch. "Lie down," he commanded softly, guiding you to the bed.

You obeyed, lying back on the soft sheets, feeling a mix of fear and anticipation. Karl followed, his body looming over yours. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss, his hands exploring your curves with a relentless hunger.

As his lips trailed down your neck to your breasts, he murmured against your skin, "I will make you feel things you've never felt before. Tonight, you will know what it means to be truly desired."

His mouth closed over your nipple, sucking gently, while his hand moved between your legs, parting your thighs. You gasped at the sensation, your body arching towards him, a newfound desire igniting within you.

Karl's fingers found your core, probing gently, noticing that you were still dry. He didn't worry too much about it, eager to learn what made you excited, what made you wet and ready for him. Karl released your nipple and looked at you, seeing your flushed cheeks as you looked down where his fingers still caressed your folds.

"Have you touched yourself here before?" Karl questioned, his voice a low, seductive murmur.

You looked up at him, your blush deepening before you turned your gaze away, unable to meet his eyes. Your reaction was all he needed to know the answer. He could almost see you tucked under the sheets, your fingers exploring your own body, trying to find pleasure in the secret moments of solitude.

Karl's lips curled into a knowing smile. "So you have," he said softly, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration. "I can almost picture it... you, lying in bed, your fingers slipping between your thighs, seeking the pleasure you so desperately crave."

Your breath hitched at his words, the image he painted igniting a spark of desire within you. Karl's touch grew bolder, his fingers pressing more insistently against your folds, seeking out the sensitive bud of your clitoris. You gasped, your hips instinctively lifting towards his hand, a wetness starting to gather as your arousal built.

"That's it," Karl murmured, his voice a dark, velvety promise. "Show me how much you want this, how much you need me."

He continued to tease and stroke, his fingers becoming slick with your growing desire. "You see, I want to know every part of you," he said, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to learn what makes you moan, what makes you beg for more."

His fingers slipped inside you, probing and curling, finding that sweet spot that made you cry out in pleasure. "I want to be the one who makes you come undone," he whispered, his voice rough with lust. "The one who makes you forget everything but the pleasure I'm giving you."

You were lost in the sensations, your body responding eagerly to his touch. "Karl," you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as your hips moved against his hand. "Please..."

"Please, what?" Karl demanded, his eyes dark with intensity. "Tell me what you need, my dear. I want to hear you say it."

"Please, make me come," you begged, your voice trembling with desire. "I need it. I need you."

Karl's smile was predatory, satisfied. "Good girl," he murmured, increasing the pace of his fingers, his thumb circling your clit with just the right pressure. "Let go for me. Show me how much you need this."

The sensations built to a crescendo, your body arching as the pleasure overtook you. With a cry, you came, your release flooding over his fingers as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Karl watched you with a possessive hunger, his fingers still moving gently, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

As you lay there, panting and spent, Karl withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips. He tasted you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Delicious," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

Karl pulled away from you, hurriedly kicking off his shoes before stepping out of his pants. Standing naked before you, he was an imposing figure, his body solid and well-built, his thick penis standing erect. You were still recovering from your orgasm, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Nervousness crept in as you took in his naked form, the reality of what was about to happen settling heavily upon you.

You had never seen a man naked before, but you knew what was expected in sex. Your mother had given you a lecture before the marriage, her words echoing in your mind: “Open your legs, take whatever he gives you, and don't complain. Sometimes it can be good, other times not.” You tried to steel yourself, determined to follow her advice.

Karl positioned himself above you, noticing the fear in your eyes as you looked at his thick penis. His expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding and gentleness. “Do you want to caress me?” he asked softly, his baritone voice soothing and calm.

You looked up at his face, your own flushed and nervous. “I... I don't know how to do that,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Karl didn’t accept that as an answer. Taking your hand, he guided it to his erection, placing it firmly around his length. “Just do as you think best,” he encouraged, his voice gentle yet insistent. “Feel me, explore me.”

Your mother's words to always obey your husband echoed in your mind as you hesitantly began to move your hand. Karl's skin was warm and smooth under your touch, his size intimidating. He let out a soft groan as your fingers wrapped around him, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s it,” Karl murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Just like that. Do what feels natural.”

You tried to follow his instructions, your hand moving tentatively at first, then with more confidence as you felt him respond to your touch. Karl’s groans grew louder, his hips thrusting slightly into your hand, encouraging you to continue.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a seductive rumble. “You’re doing so well. Keep going, just like that.”

Your movements became bolder, your hand stroking him with more assurance. Karl’s eyes darkened with lust, his breathing growing heavier. “You have no idea how good that feels,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “How much I want you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your own arousal building again despite your nerves. Karl guided your hand with his, showing you the rhythm he liked, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Now, my dear,” Karl said, his voice a husky whisper. “I want to be inside you. I want to feel you wrapped around me.”

You nodded, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you lay back, spreading your legs for him. Karl positioned himself between your thighs, the tip of his erection brushing against your entrance. He paused, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Are you ready?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling but determined. “I’m ready.”

Karl leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he slowly pushed inside you. The sensation was strange and overwhelming, a mix of discomfort and pleasure as he filled you completely. You gasped, your hands clutching at the sheets as he began to move, his thrusts slow and gentle at first, then gradually building in intensity.

“Relax, my dear,” Karl murmured against your lips, his voice a soothing balm. “Let yourself feel everything.”

You tried to do what he asked, attempting to adjust to his length, but it felt like he was splitting you in half. He was thick, and it hurt—a lot. But Karl seemed to be enjoying it immensely. You observed him, his eyes closed, chin slack, speaking in German. You clung to his thick body, pressing your fingers into his back, as Karl spread you even wider, pushing your legs flat against the mattress.

"Liebling, du fühlst dich so gut," he murmured, his baritone voice husky with desire. "You're so tight, so perfect."

The pain mingled with a strange sense of pleasure, your body slowly starting to accommodate his size. Karl's thrusts were slow and deliberate, his eyes opening to watch your reactions. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his mustache tickling your upper lip. "Relax, mein Schatz," he whispered against your mouth. "Let me make you feel good."

He moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit and circling it gently. The sudden jolt of pleasure made you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily. Karl smiled against your lips, increasing the pressure and speed of his fingers. "That's it, let go for me," he urged, his voice a soothing command.

Your grip on his back tightened, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure began to build. "Karl," you moaned, your voice a mix of pain and desire. "It hurts..."

Karl slowed his thrusts, his eyes filled with concern. "I know, darling," he said softly, his fingers never stopping their gentle circles. "But I promise it will get better. Just trust me."

You nodded, trying to relax, focusing on the pleasure his fingers were giving you. Gradually, the pain started to ebb, replaced by a growing sense of fullness and pleasure. Karl's thrusts became deeper, more controlled, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're doing so well, Liebling," he praised, his voice a deep rumble. "So beautiful, so responsive."

The combination of his words, his touch, and the rhythm of his movements drove you closer to the edge. You could feel your body tightening around him, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. "Karl, I... I'm going to..."

"Let it go, my dear," Karl whispered, his voice thick with his own need. "Come for me."

With a cry, you did, your body shuddering around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you. Karl groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "So tight," he muttered in German, his voice strained. "So perfect."

You clung to him, your body trembling, as he finally reached his peak, a guttural moan escaping his lips. He collapsed onto you, his weight comforting, his breath hot against your neck. For a moment, you both lay there, entwined, the reality of your new relationship settling in.

Karl rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms, his hands gently caressing your back. "You did wonderfully," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Thank you for trusting me."

You nestled against his chest, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, exhaustion, and a budding sense of hope. "It still hurts a little," you admitted softly.

Karl kissed your forehead, his touch tender. "It will get better, I promise. And I will do everything I can to make sure you are comfortable and happy."

You looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "Thank you, Karl," you whispered, feeling a small measure of reassurance.

He smiled, his hooked nose casting a shadow over his face in the dim light. "Rest now, my dear. We have all the time in the world to get to know each other better."

You nodded, closing your eyes, feeling the warmth of his body and the gentle rhythm of his breath. Despite the pain and the strangeness of your new situation, a small spark of hope flickered within you. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage could be more than just a transaction. Perhaps it could become something real, something filled with mutual respect and, in time, love.

Translation:

Liebling - Darling

Du fühlst dich so gut - You feel so good

Mein Schatz - My treasure (or My darling)

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #karl hoffmeister x reader #karl hoffmeister #a promise

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yuri-is-online · 4 months

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I really love Sebek and Epel and Deuce

Sebek's Yutu would be a tad hilarious but also kinda sad because his dad MAY OR MAY NOT BE ALIVE because man

Malleus :(

Epel's Yutu tho......

I saw a fic where Epel can use a gun (mentioned in passing) so I'm imagining that while Epel's Yutu is a great farmer just like his dad

He's also got a rifle :)

You have given me a vision... the one thing Epel! Yutu wants... is to be a cowboy. Can you picture a baby who looks a lot like Epel with a little cowboy hat and boots, he'd be so cute. Also, I was having brain rot and decided to introduce one of the friends lovely @archetypal-archivist helped create for Yutu! Please check out their Azul! Yutu posting it's very good and I love it sososo much. Unfortunately this post does not feature Epel riding on a horse, I'll have to fix that sometime. And get back to Sebek later.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

Yutu's earliest memory is of apples.

His parent had him in a sling as they worked, picking and packing the fruit as they softly hummed a lullaby to soothe his grumpy mood. He never was able to get over how big an orchard could be, even when he was old enough to walk under the trees and play with the other workers children something about that sea of greenery just felt magical. Like if he really focused the outside world would cease to be and he could wake up in a land of nothing but him, Yuu, and the acceptance you can only ever find in nature.

But that's not how things ever went. When he opened his eyes Yuu would pack him up and they would move to follow the harvest until the winters shut things down and it was back to that god awful place Yuu had been born in. He was glad to move away when Yuu found them a permanent place to stay when he turned 10, gladder still for it to be a farm even if it didn't have the orchards he loved so much. The old couple that hired Yuu on were impressed with how deeply the single parent cared for their son, and how eager the son was to to help his parent. It was the perfect set up for an ideal, if difficult, childhood that would nurture Yutu in to a strong young man.

But this isn't the happy family future, it's the bad one. And things were always going to go wrong sooner rather than later.

Mixing things up from the other posts, Yuu feels particularly drawn to farms and farm work when thinking about Yutu's father and ends up crisscrossing their country as a migrant farm worker until they're offered a full time position as a farm hand they happily accept in the hopes of stabilizing Yutu's education. Yutu genuinely loved his childhood and grew up having a deep respect for manual labor and agriculture. He assumes Yuu must have met his father while traveling and had a brief relationship that produced him, but accepts that whatever accident caused Yuu's memory loss will keep him from ever really knowing if that was the case. Yuu impresses on him that his dad was a hard worker with a bit of a temper who never backed down from a challenge. They tease him that he gets his "cute" side from his Pappa, which Yutu likes about as much as Epel probably would.

He's doing his time in the short king mines, Yutu won't hit his growth spurt until around 17 and how tall he gets is from that is up to you, but if he stays short just know he is not happy about it at all. Unless someone brings up the fact he could probably have a career as a professional jockey and then he will maybe think about it as being a blessing. Maybe. Yutu learned to ride pretty early on in life and he loves doing it, but he doesn't really want to race horses. He'd much rather be a cowboy with his own little farm and a family of his own with a big orchard to tend to. He's got big dreams of one day being able to introduce his partner to Yuu and give them a nice place to retire to.

Plays outside by himself a lot. There are some kids at school he befriends, but a lot of their parents are wary about letting their kids hang out with him at his house. Yuu is seen as a bit weird, even if the old couple they work for is well liked most people in town know their kids who really dislike Yuu and Yutu for reasons that escape Yutu but his parent seems to understand. "They think they're protecting their parents." As Yutu grows he thinks it has to be more about money, he and Yuu love working the farm but their kids all have different jobs they got college degrees for so they probably want to sell the land when their parents die. He's right about that last bit of course, and willing to let Yuu give them some charity but he doesn't think they care about their parents near as much as he cares about his. Otherwise they'd at least be nice to someone their parents considered part of the family and not ship their mom off to a nursing home before their dad was even in the ground. Or evict the outcasts they considered part of the family too.

You have no idea what to do as you pack up your few belongings, Yutu can tell that you are stressed and it makes him mad. He tries to focus on helping, taping things up and dragging them out to the beat up car as you listlessly stare at the kitchen sink. After he moves the second box he notices you're not packing anymore and goes to check what's wrong and his instincts begin screaming something's wrong. Your eyes are unfocused, staring down at a framed picture he remembers well.

"Do you ever think about how all of this is my fault?" You sound a world a way and Yutu guesses that you are, the photo of a younger you with a toddler him in a sling under the apple orchards stares back at you both questioning just where is it you plan to go from here. It can't be back on the open road, school is about to start and the entire point of staying here was to make things better for him. Yutu is about to ask you the same thing when he hears the wind pick up, and is that a carriage he hears? "If I hadn't forgotten you, then maybe I could have found a way back..."

"What in the goddamn-" Yutu is cut off by the glass being blown out and he dives on instinct to cover you as the world spins around him.

"I'm real sorry Epel, you don't have to forgive me but... even after all this time. I still love you... I still love you and how sad is that..."

Good news, Yutu doesn't have to sleep and a shitty motel tonight. Bad news, he's in the middle of some fancy private school shit and his parent is flat lining on their floor. He starts screaming bloody murder until Crewel comes and scoops him up and ushers him off to the hospital wing where they have a very tense conversation. Yes, he does belong here actually he was supposed to have been born in this world with it's magic, monsters, and annoying private school uniforms he finds himself shoved into and marched back out to that fuck ass mirror to hear what dormitory he belongs in. The fuck is a Pom-e-fee-or and why does that girl with the 2000s throwback hairstyle look like she wants to kill him for asking that?

That girl is the Vice Warden of his new house and she absolutely hates him on sight. Like, she's heard about Epel before, duh who hasn't? He performed in the VDC with the Vil Schoenheit and he had like a fun Magicam account where he promoted his family's apple farm. Didn't Yuu tell him anything about that? Ugh guess she'll have to do it and hey why is hE RUNNING AWAY DOES ELEGANCE MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!?!?! WHERE IS YOUR POMEFIORE DIGNITY YUTU DON'T THINK SHE CAN'T CATCH YOU BECAUSE SHE'S GOT HEELS ON BITCH!!!

It's exactly where Epel's Pome Pride was when he first joined to dorm, down a drain someplace because Yutu thinks his dorm is the pits. Growing up like he did made him starkly aware of just how different people with money see people like him and instilled a deep hatred of people who make their personality their skincare routine. He thinks the way rich people spend their money is boring and hates that his dorm mates are spending their precious time in a literal apocalypse doing their make up and hair. His Vice Warden is irritated with him and asks what he does then when he can't control the circumstances around him and Yutu goes to snap back at her but finds he doesn't really have an answer.

"Have you even tried taking care of yourself before?" Peyton is looking over his hair in genuine disgust, it's different than the resting bitch face she usually has. Yutu has seen enough of both to be able to tell the difference now.

"I mean I don't not take care of it." Because Yuu had tried to get him to do things like a skincare routine before, and come to think of it they had phrased the reasoning much like Peyton is now. Take good care of yourself. His Vice Warden rolls her eyes and turns towards her vanity, the amount of homemade products and their labels immediately tells him they aren't all for her hair type.

"Yeah but you don't do it well. Look I'm not crazy about bougie stuff either but like, you just feel so much better when you put the effort into yourself and not what other people say about you." She hesitates before meeting his eyes in the mirror and adding. "Trust me, I'd know." And Yutu believes her.

It has got to be hard being a vocaloid stan in a dorm with a literal ballroom.

Yutu really does belong in Pomefiore. He's great with alchemy and magical plants, just like his dad Crewel is all to happy to tell him. They talk a bit about his dad and the situation in the Shaftlands, how no one has heard from Epel since the blot took over and it's insanely difficult to get anywhere near there since the Phantom Hunter makes your life a living hell if you try. Most people think he's dead, but Crewel isn't so sure. He thinks that the various communities across Mt. Moln could easily sustain themselves if they barricaded against the blot monsters, but they also don't have a lot of mages so actually defending themselves could be difficult. Then again this does mean that the stronger phantoms would be less interested, so who knows. In the climate of the day though it is probably best to brace for the worst.

The sports clubs still exist in a less intense manner than before to give people different ways to relax and things to do. Since Yutu loves horses he tried the equestrian club out before deciding it was way too "fussy" and settling in to the board game club since he never really had enough friends to actually play them with before. It's a lot of fun to compare all the ways these games are similar to ones he knows about from Yuu's world and yet completely different. It helps nurse his sadness over losing Yuu since they were the only one who ever played these sorts of games with him and he has fond memories of how they totally never let him win.

He takes a great deal of comfort in knowing his dad had similar struggles with his dorm placement and is overjoyed to learn about the family farm! He wishes he was there right now and drives Peyton absolutely bonkers telling her all about the tests he's run on the soil around campus, how he thinks blot might effect plant growth, and the ways he can think of to combat it. She's crying please just go talk to the Ignyhide kids they totally care about that stuff probably! His lectures end up being useful when they're finally unable to avoid going out on missions any longer as understanding the signs of heavy pollution makes the stronger phantoms easier to track.

It's a realization Epel has also had, secluded in his little village as he is. Harveston has heavily fortified it's position and bulked up it's population with the survivors of other surrounding communities. They have been gifted the ability to endure, but Epel doesn't know if their community will survive long term unless the phantoms are dealt with. The surviving members of his family from the Queendom told awful stories when they retreated here, if that's what's going on in the rest of the world he imagines S.T.Y.X. is probably involved so he tries to keep his eyes peeled for anything like their tech. He manages to find a busted drone in the snow one day and brings it home to work on it whenever he gets a spare moment. It helps him ignore his grief over losing Yuu, his child, and contact with all of his friends. When he's focused on not breaking the drone further, he can convince himself he's either worked through that already or that once he fixes it he will have everyone he lost back at home with him where they belong.

Unit 7954 cackles back to life with a stream of what sounds like a stream of curse words, but Idia has certainly never heard any of them before. He knows that joyful cackle though and he thinks he must have stayed up too long again because he as to be hallucinating. There is no way he's actually looking at Epel, but the whooping before he shyly calms himself down reassures him he is. The two frantically talk about the situation in the Shaftlands and the number of survivors before Idia smacks himself and remembers to mention Yutu's existence. Epel falls off his chair in surprise at the news and Idia is worried he's killed the man before he hears his sobbing. Breaking through the front lines of the Fairest Queen might be impossible, but a video call now that Epel has fixed the drone isn't and Ortho is nice enough to set one up.

"Sevens yer big." Yutu feels like he's 10 feet tall when he hears the drawl of his father's voice. "Bigger than I was at yer age I reckon." The man is certainly taller than him, with lavender waves he's tied neatly back to let him see better under his thick winter clothing. His smile is so warm and friendly Yutu wishes he could dive through the screen and be there with him right this instant. "'s ok if ya don't know where to start with the questions, I bet you got a bunch."

"Why'd you marry Yuu?" It's not what he expected to ask first. He wanted to talk about school, or ask something practical like tips about finding his unique magic or fighting monsters. But that was what he really wanted to know wasn't it? Why Yuu was so important, if he was important to this man and his different accent even after all these years. And the happy smile that relaxes his father screams that he is, it's as if he's shed years of stress and suffering just thinking about his parent.

"Be easier to list the reasons I didn't like them since there aren't any." Epel closes his eyes and thinks about that first moment he realized how much he liked you, tucked away studying in the library and bickering about how to do an assignment as he wondered why you were even there and if you thought he was cool at all. "Since Yuu was from another world a lot of us felt like they deserved a good home here, but that just meant I wanted to invite them over for the summer and stuff like that. Didn't mean I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them, that's what I thought at first anyway. But well, you know Yuu pretty well. They always somehow know where the good lies in even the worst of people. Or at least they knew where it was in me and made sure to believe in it right up until the last day I saw them." They both quiet at the thought of that, Yutu wondering if he should push further before Epel quietly adds. "I hope you know they'd be stupid proud of you for everything. Pomefiore isn't an easy dorm to be a part of but if you put in the work you'll really thrive there, and the both of us really believe you've got what it takes to do that yeah? If you'll let me speak on their behalf anyway."

"Of course you can." Yutu does his best not to cry, but Epel can tell it isn't going to work. "You- you miss them too after all." And isn't that the truth.

The plan to go back in time is decided on before the blockade around Harveston can be breached. Epel gives Yutu as much information as he can about the past and what to expect before he goes, making him promise to hug the younger him at least once in the hopes the memory will somehow flow across time and he'll get a taste of what it's like to hold his son before he sends him off with a "good luck" and "kick their ass!" Even though neither of them fully know who is responsible just yet.

Epel! Yutu has an easier time adjusting to the past than a lot of the other Yutu's thanks to Epel's descriptions of people like- well mostly just his description of Rook. He still comes off as weird but in an endearing way as opposed to an "I need to run for my existence literally" type of way. Unfortunately his dad might have buried the memory of just how in his feelings and jealous he got about Yuu pre relationship. He's rolling his eyes and ignoring everything Yutu says because he wants to monopolize your attention and Yutu is honestly kind of living for it. He thinks it's super cool that his dad is willing to fight for Yuu's affections even though he could be considered to have no chance. He's short, more "cute" than he is "hot," and poor by a lot of people's standards. Sure, Yutu loves the farm life and Yuu must have to raise him in it but if that isn't how you grew up he's super surprised you chose Epel. Surprised and grateful because Yutu really loves his dad.

That love gets through to Epel somewhat, he's super confused as to why the new guy thinks he's so cool AND why he wants to complain about it. Isn't that what he wants? To be seen as cool, strong, and reliable? Well sure but he wants you to see him that way more than anything, it'd make him so happy if he had your approval. He's happy to have your friendship but- well it would just be nice to have you around forever. He's going to miss you when you go back to your world.

Yutu considers re joining the board games club to get close to Idia, but sees Azul and moonwalks his way out of there in a move that definitely doesn't put him on either of their radars and announces to Yuu that he will be starting a book club instead. He does this so he has a reasonable excuse to spend a bunch of time in the library and request access to various archives but Sebek joins since it meets once a week on Saturdays and railroads it into being like. An actual book club. They have other members too and Yutu hates it because he isn't super fond of wasting his time reading things unrelated to his mission but some of the stuff Sebek recommends is good he guesses.

Yutu thinks he's doing a good job of flying under the radar of suspicion, and to be fair Epel and Yuu are a bit too caught up in each other to notice the stranger things about Yutu but Sebek is not and convinces them to surveil where he goes after the book club meetings. Grim is on board just because he's tired of watching Epel and Yuu make heart eyes at each other and he thinks he can get tuna out of it so they make a day of it. It turns out Yutu goes to Craneport every weekend without fail to meet up with... someone. He goes to an apartment building and it would be a bit too obvious if they followed him in there without more evidence (Yuu has to be the one to point this out because you know Sebek and Epel are ready to charge.) So they keep this up for a couple of weeks until one day Yutu cancels the book club meeting and leaves campus early. This time he heads towards the mines Yuu explored with Ace and Deuce for the mage stone that second night they were at NRC. There are several people there, and Yutu does something he's never done, not even around Yuu who he has described as a friend. He lets down his hood.

The shock of lavender that tumbles out from the hood has all three of you tripping over yourselves to cover your mouths. His facial expressions, mannerisms, and even the way he goes the pull his hair screams that he has to be related to Epel. He's admitted to being from your world, and the way he speaks, the shape and color of his eyes and the way he laughs have to come from you. Sebek isn't able to keep it in any more as he starts crying, then loudly denying he's crying, congratulating you on your marriage since you are a friend of the young master before yelling at Yutu for acting in a manner that could have brought dishonor to his parents.

All of this scares the phantom Yutu's friends were hunting out of hiding and forces everyone to fight it. Yutu is extremely flustered from Sebek's scolding but he is nowhere near as embarrassed as Epel who immediately starts taking it out on the phantom and cussing up a storm. It's one of the quicker fights Yutu has had with a blot monster, and he isn't really complaining when Epel drags him and Yuu into the Dwarf's Cottage for a chat.

"So I'm yer Pa, Yuu's m' spouse and ya didn't think to spit that out 'fer you went fighting shit fucks BECAUSE?" Epel is steaming mad, he's almost as red as Riddle which Yutu would be impressed by if he wasn't so embarrassed.

"Um. Cause I didn't think you would-"

"YER GODSDAMNED RIGHT I WOULDN'TA BELIEVED YA! At first anyway." Normal, or would it be fake? Neither Yutu supposes, calm Epel is back as he crosses his arms and really looks at him. "You look like me, and you sound like them. I bet there's things you can tell me about myself you'd have no way of knowing otherwise so why bother hiding yourself? Don't you want my help?"

"Our help." You speak up immediately and Epel nods, affirming what you said slightly embarrassed he let his insecurities forget that you were here too for a moment. Yutu doesn't answer immediately, instead he looks very firmly at the ground as if he would rather be anywhere else than admit what he's about to.

"... not if it means you both die. I- I don't think I can watch that happen again." And oh seven does that change the tone of the conversation, because what does he mean by again?

Yutu refuses to answer until he gets to hug Epel. He expects it to be awkward, but it isn't at all. His dad squeezes him so tightly Yutu is sure his future self has got to feel it as he slowly lays out his story about the bad future and how he thinks it got to be there. About growing up in Yuu's world and the pain of watching you die. Epel is mad as hell to hear about it and swears it won't happen and is halfway out the door before he even has time to process it. Everyone brings Sebek up to speed, who insists on informing the young master immediately; something everyone agrees is a good course of action given how Briar Valley was the first place they know of being effected.

Malleus is delighted that everyone agreed to invite him on their secret mission, but also deeply disturbed by what hears. As Briar Valley's King, it is his responsibility to make sure nothing like Yutu is describing happens for no other reason than it would harm his subjects, but he can't help but be personally insulted that whoever did this would rob his human friend of their happiness too. The only re-payment he requests is that when (not if) he saves the future that Epel and Yuu invite him to the wedding, baby shower, christening, and any other important milestone they have in their lives. It's an easy enough thing to agree to Epel thinks. He has the approval of Ace and Deuce already, so to have Malleus announce he accepts him as your man too? That's all of the family you've collected in this world so... it's not too much trouble to ask you to join his, right? He won't be tricked this time, promise. You will walk this life hand in hand until the eternal sleep takes you both, and that won't happen until Yutu is practically an old man himself. And you of all people should know what Epel can do when he sets his mind to it; he got you to fall in love with him after all, didn't he?

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #epel felmier x reader #future kid au #peyton to me is the mean older sister from an early 2000s disney channel show/movie #like #she's mean but she does ok maybe sort of care :/#she'll loan you her good lip gloss for a date and then help you hide the body if your bf turns out to be shit #and other just girly things like that you know?#ty so much to archivist for coming up with her and letting me use her #i love all their ocs to pieces

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wosoluver · 5 months

Text

Not good at saying goodbyes.

Part 2/4 - previous - next

Lena Oberdorf × Reader

Lena Oberdorf Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

And here you were about to turn 23, you were a late bloomer in football. Only having a big boom in the past two years, playing for Barcelona.

You were set to play the euros for your national team, as you already did play for the qualifiers. You had finally been called up to play, and represent your country. That was, Spain. Despite being born and raised in Germany, you were only a little girl. The most memories you had in football was unfortunately made in Spain. It had been almost 15 years. So it felt like the right thing.

If someone would have told you that then, you would never believe them. You would say there was no way, and you would take the first chance you had, to go 'home'.

But you followed your path, with the best opportunities you had, presented to you. And that's how you ended up where you were now. On a top team, being among awarded players. And you were happy. Really. But something was always missing, and you couldn't figure out what it was.

Asking for a transfer to Bayern Munich as a loan, was a slight desperate try, at trying to fix that feeling.

And the deal had been settled.

And you were feeling great and confident, despite knowing you would have to sooner or later face your old friend, but for only 90 minutes max.

Your plans had been frustrated when a week after the announcement over your contract, Bayern announced another transfer. From Wolfsburg. The very same girl you couldn't stop worrying about.

You deeply hoped you would be better at hello, better than you ever were at goodbyes.

Not knowing where to start was tough. After all, besides the loss of contact, you had so many chances of reconnecting. But you both chose not to.

You, because you were extremely scared of the rejection. And her, simply because she was still not over how betrayed she felt, even after all this time.

You didn't know what you were expecting, but being humiliated by having your existence ignored, was not on your list of possibilities.

You came in, to get ready for your first day. Georgia came over to try and fit you in.

"Hello! It's nice to have you here already! Your spanish right? Do you have a german family? You have a german last name."

"Well yeah, I was actually born here, but I grew up there."

"Really? But you play for the national team no?" she asked as you two moved outside.

"Yes, played for them first time this year."

"Hola!" - said Giulia coming close to you.

"She's speaks english and german probably." - said Georgia stoping her friend from embarrassing herself with bad spanish.

"Yes, english or german, or spanish, whatever you prefer."

"We're so excited to have you here, come I'll take you around, you can meet everyone."

And you did. But when you were about to approach Lena and Lea, she simply walked away.

"Hey, sorry about her." - said Lea, with a tight lip smile.

"It's fine."

But it hurt. And it was only going to get worse.

Every chance she had to pass you the ball, she didn't. Everyone noticed at this point. And in the locker room, she didn't make an effort to hide the fact that your presence bothered her.

From that day on, that's what it was like.

You knew you deserved a cold shoulder, but this was too much, and it started taking a tow on you.

You decided to move back to Germany, trying to fill a small void you had deep down, not to make it feel worse. Had you made the right decision?

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Good morning Y/N!" as she caught up with you on the parking lot.

"Morning Georgia."

"I know it's none of my business and you probably don't even know, since you just met. But is there something wrong between you and Oberdorf?"

"Uhm-" in a way you were kinda glad to be cut off.

"I'm sorry it's just been so weird. We've never had something like this happen in the team."

"I'll try talking to her."

You hated the unwanted attention, especially on something you were so sensitive about.

But she was one of your captains, if she came up to say something like that, it was probably because she wanted to sort it out.

Lena's pov

"You need to try and be more subtle, the girls are worried about the team's harmony." said Lea to her friend.

"I'm not going to play my feelings down!"

"I'm not asking you to. But at least inside the pitch, you need to put your feelings a side momentarily. You can't let this harm our team's performance."

"See that's exactly what your doing!"

"Lena! You just got here. You can't risk this over pride. You don't need to talk to her, just play football like I know you can."

This time she only nodded. This couldn't be bigger than her career. And that she agreed on.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

reader's pov

During training today, it felt like something was different. Besides the fact you had fallen in the same group as Lena. And you two did football like you used to. So much, you had beaten the opposite group on 5-1. Something that hadn't happened yet since your first day. Her passes from the middle field to your position as a left winger, made sure that most balls got into the penalty area so Lea and Pernille could manage goals.

The way she had been acting made you think something between you had changed. That gave you a little hope as you went to talk to her, later in the locker room.

"Hey... I just wanted to- I wanted to apologize." - You said barely above a whisper.

"I don't want your apologies. I'm not doing this for you."

"Still, I need to apologize. There's no excuse to what I've done and-"

"Your right there's no excuse." she said dryly as she walked away.

You felt like someone grabbed your heart that was already holding on to it's pieces, and smashed it against a wall.

You never thought you would see this side of her. In reality that part of her had only been created after the harsh reality had hit her all those years ago.

Like you had drove her to create the best side of her. The kind, funny and quick witted one, you had managed to do the same, but for the worse.

You moved as quick as you could, into a stall, and cried your eyes out, as quietly as possible. Not quiet enough though, apparently.

"Y/N? It's Giulia." She said softly as she sat down next to you, outside the stall. "Do you need anything?"

You were quiet for a few minutes.

"A hug?" whispering back.

You sounded like a little girl, scared off by the monsters under her bed.

"Of course."

You got up and unlocked the door, as you walked into her arms.

"You don't owe me an explanation. But if you need to talk, I'm here."

"Did you hear any of it?"

"Yeah."

"We were childhood best friends. When I had to leave the country. I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't."

"How old were you?"

"About eight."

"You were just a kid!"

"It's still my fault."

"Honey no! You were so young, I can't imagine how it was for you. You were about to lose everything you knew. You can't spend the rest of your life carrying this weight!"

"Well even if it was a child's mistake, I have lost her forever. If I could go back in time I would."

"I believe you. Just give her a little time, and she'll see it too. What you two did today was amazing! You guys were synced like one. I saw a slight tiny smile on her face when you assisted those two goals."

"Really?"

"Yes, it was in her eyes. She is really good at keeping a straight face, but I'm better at reading people."

"Thank you. I haven't talked about this in years."

"I'm here. Now let's get you home, do you need a ride?"

"No, I'm good, I drove here."

"Okay. Anything, you call me, yeah?"

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

We'll probably have four or five parts on this fic 🩷

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #futfem #fc bayern frauen #dfb frauen

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utilitycaster · 15 days

Note

I'm glad to see you mentioning how disconnected the PCs are from Marquet! I'm a little surprised that I haven't seen more discussion of this in the fandom at large (although maybe I'm looking in the wrong places), since it was a point of discussion at the very beginning of the campaign in a couple of private PoC tabletop/LARP groups I was in. The consensus in the aforementioned groups at the time was that maybe the cast didn't feel comfortable representing characters coming from cultures that were explicitly based on real world PoC cultures (but the decision to have almost everyone be an "outsider" in a PoC-coded culture had unfortunate Orientalist overtones). This was very, very early campaign (like e10 maybe), though, before we really knew the trajectory of the plot (or that they'd spend so little time in Marquet).

It definitely came up a lot early on and I think a lot of the people who felt this either left Campaign 3 quite early and said "this isn't working for me" or else said, as I did, that it is what it is.

I think my issue here is that like...Imogen and Dorian are the only Marquet-born characters and while I have complicated feelings about how people see Imogen (see my previous comments about the bizarre bordering on creepy glorification of a very white-coded Southern culture that have spread into like...white anglophone but not United States portions of the fandom) she and Dorian are both very much coded to North American cultures (Imogen, accent aside, honestly fits any rural agrarian portion of the country and honestly reads closer to the great plains than the south, and Dorian is influenced by Native American culture). I actually do think that Taliesin did a good job making Ashton feel like they were part of Bassuras (and they aren't from there originally, but did grow up there culturally), but the fact is I've seen multiple people ignore that "Bassuras" is specifically taken from Tagalog (and that Makenzie de Armas was one of the Marquet designers) and hc it as Central American rather than Filipino despite Matt explicitly saying it's the latter.

I do think that the answer, if the cast was not comfortable playing Marquesian characters (and I am not a POC so take this with that grain of salt, but I also think, with some effort and some sensitivity work, they could have done so, particularly since Marquet is inspired by but not one to one), the answer should have been to either be clearer this wouldn't be centered in Marquet and would simply start there which would have lowered those expectations and to perhaps plan an EXU in Marquet that does primarily star actors who are from north Africa, or western, southern, or southeast Asia; or just set the campaign in Issylra or something. I get that Marquet is more central and cosmopolitan than Issylra by far, but we're now in an awkward position where we might have a campaign set mostly in Fake North America; a campaign set virtually entirely in Fake Europe/debatably central/northeast Asia; and a campaign that was ostensibly set in Fake SWANA/SEAsia but really was mostly about the moon. Like, the cast doing a thoughtful but perhaps imperfect go at Marquesian characters would have, at least in my opinion, been preferable.

If it helps I think the way Matt and the worldbuilders describe Marquet it doesn't feel (to me) overly orientalist and the fandom has definitely had way more "do you see this shit Edward Said" moments than the cast, despite the fact that only half the characters had spent significant time in Marquet. Really, the narrative issue is "the characters don't feel tied to this place or invested in the same way in this plot because the plot isn't tied to this place", and the unfortunate overtones come from the fact that it was the Ostensible Marquet Campaign that got the plot that's not really about Marquet.

(as someone running Netherdeep - I will say that helps. The bulk of that story is in a lovingly and sensitively reworked Ank'Harel. I'm hoping TLOVM also does a better job than C1 with Ank'Harel.)

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag

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matan4il · 4 months

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Watched Eurovision last weekend and tried to only pay attention to the music but oof, the Israel derangement was horrid. Were any of the other contestants nice to Eden or at the very least not total assholes to her because where's she's from? Please tell me someone was decent or even mildly professional.

Hi Nonnie!

I'm glad to tell you that there WERE people who were personally decent to Eden and the Israeli team, from what I've heard.

One of the parts that suck is that it feels like talking about it too loudly might bring those people into the line of fire. I can say that about myself, that while I was treated awfully by some people in fandom, I've had people be absolutely wonderful to me, and I've had to keep my mouth shut and not thank or celebrate them publicly, because that would have drawn the fire to them. They absolutely do not deserve that. And it sucks that I can't even be openly grateful. Same with the people friendlier to Eden, we Israelis have heard stuff, so we know of them and are thankful, but I don't think anyone has said anything too public, because no one wants to endanger them.

Still, I hope it's been long enough since the final, that we can safely share a few things. Also, I'll emphasize that most of this is hearsay, I can't verify any of it, because it wasn't published officially, this is just the stuff we hear.

The Israeli singer who grew up in and was representing Luxembourg was really lovely with Eden. Tali could have easily avoided ANY association with Eden, so I give her credit for not doing that. The German singer was the nicest to the Eden and Israeli delegation, and I also heard that Germany actually stood up for Israel when the EBU wanted to disqualify it, rightly pointing out the differences between this situation and Russia's ban. I heard good things about the Austrian singer as well, the Latvian, and the Georgian singer. There's probably more that aren't popping into my mind right now, but this is a start, and it's nice knowing kind people, who won't bully a 20 years old singer just because of her nationality, do exist, right?

Another part that sucks is that even some of the people who were nice backstage to Eden, were only willing to do so away from the public eye. I think the most extreme one is the 2023 runner up, Finnish performer Käärijä. He ran into Eden backstage and was totally cool with them doing a short, quick rendition of his ESC song together (which you can see in the link below). It was clearly just two people who love music having fun together, but once the vid was posted online, people started attacking him for supporting genocide (because that's not a leap of logic at all), and he quickly put out a message denouncing everything he's said and done ever, including being born. Then he just had to reassure all of his bullies that he's "okay" even further. The Norwegian 2023 singer who was supposed to deliver her country's jury results had already announced she won't as an anti-Israel measure, so when he was supposed to give the Finnish jury vote, he simply announced he won't, letting people make the connection, and figure out for themselves that it was an anti-Israel move.

Still I think you can take the ones who weren't loudly nasty to Eden, and assume most were nice enough to her privately, even if not publicly. To figure out who those probably were, on top of the ones I mentioned above, I'll just give a short rundown of the performers who were being awful about Israel to different degrees (so you can figure out who was at least decent by way of elimination): Ireland, Belgium, Switzerland, the UK, the Netherlands, Greece, Portugal, Lithuania, Norway, Finland, Slovenia, San Marino, Denmark.

I hope I helped... Have a good day! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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kyokutsu-sama · 5 months

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Hey I've been a huge fan of your blog for a while now and I finally built up the courage to send you a request.🩷

Can you do one with the Black Clover Magic Captains with a s/o who was a foreigner who finally tell them about their original culture that they kept hidden.

For context had to flee here (You can choose why) and while here the people made them on outcast because of their culture, making them hide it leading them to forgetting most of it. (This request is based off Pinkies Gypsy Bard (I've been going back into my MLP phase recently)

I understand it maybe a little too much but I wanted to be as specific as possible 😅

A/n: I'm glad to know this and in any case you are free to send me requests😊

I know it took me a while with this one but I was writing other things and ended up taking a break from Tumblr for a few days, I'm sorry🥲

_____________________________

Yami :

Yami could never judge someone based on their culture or country. Firstly, because he is also a foreigner, secondly because he likes diversity, since the members of his squad are all different from each other. They initially kept it to themselves but when he asks them to talk one day, he ends up asking about their roots and that's when the truth finally comes to light. They confess to the captain that they didn't want to talk about it in front of others because they were afraid of being judged or demoted for having a different culture and that's why they preferred to just say that they were born in the Clover kingdom to hide it. The captain understands the situation and explains that he himself also comes from a foreign country and that he also suffered prejudice because of this, unfortunately. When they see that both the captain and others accept them and their origins, regardless of whether they are different, it makes them more confident.

Fuegoleon :

This captain may even be royalty and show a prestigious image most of the time, but he is very respectful of everyone. Regardless of who tgey are and where they came from. They have hidden their own culture since joining the Crimson Lions because they were afraid of what others would think. Especially because the captain himself is a nobleman and that was already a reason for them not to talk about it. Due to their effort and their recognition little by little, Fuegoleon thought it would be interesting to get to know them better, since he didn't have much knowledge of them. This captain is a very smart man and quickly realizes that they have something that differentiates them from the people of the Clover kingdom and this leads him to question them about where they come from. When they admit that they came from another country, the captain is surprised and asks why they didn't talk about it sooner and that's when they say that they had already suffered prejudice before and were afraid that they would suffer from it again. Captain Vermillion leaves them comfortable with this and says he accepts them no matter what because it doesn't make them less than anyone else and as captain, he promises that he will work so that one day this prejudice will end.

William :

The golden dawn is a prestigious division due to its merits in various missions but the some of the members of that division, tend to treat those who come from villages outside the kingdom or from other countries with disdain, which is completely the opposite of what the captain does, who accepts everyone the way they are. They were glad to be able to wear the uniform of that division but at the same time, the roots of a foreign culture and country, lived in the shadows due to fear of non-acceptance or humiliation. William one day invites them to a casual meeting and they never imagined that the captain would mention the subject they had been hiding for months. Just like Fuegoleon, William managed to notice some details that had escaped from the view of others but not his. They assume that they were afraid of being left out because they were foreigners and for fear that someone might make fun of their culture and if everyone knew it would be a problem. The captain takes off his mask after those words, which leaves them a little surprised by the huge scarred face of the captain in front of them. William reveals to them the fact that he also suffered discrimination in childhood because he was born that way. They ended up feeling more comfortable around the captain because they both share a similar story and William always makes them feel comfortable and accepting of themselves.

Nozel :

Nozel was a noble like Fuegoleon but the only difference is that while Fuegoleon accepted people regardless of whether they came from the commons, Nozel was a little more strict about the person's status. What made them hide the fact that they came from outside the kingdom and hide everything that could give clues about where they came from. The captain was also not completely prejudiced about status or origin, he also knew how to recognize someone strong and with skills that could be advantageous to his squad and in defense of the Silva house. When faced with this potential coming from them, the captain is aware that that strength is the only thing that makes them stand out and this makes him want to know more about their origins and past. Nozel calls them into the office and can see some nervousness and fear in their eyes. The captain tries not to be too direct or too serious to be able to put them at ease, in order to find out what he needs to know. They, although scared, tell the captain about how they were devalued by members of royalty previously, due to their different culture and that they didn't want to tell them before, for fear of the captain expelling them from the division just for that. Nozel thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that, deep down, royalty could be much worse than the common people when they wanted, and it was not something to be proud of. They were more relieved when Nozel promised that he would keep their origins a secret but that they must continue to strive every day so that they could be proud of their own roots just as he does every day to keep the Silva name clean.

#Black clover #black clover x reader #black clover fandom #black clover headcanons #black clover anime #yami sukehiro #Fuegoleon Vermillion #Nozel Silva #william vangeance #headcanons

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bokettochild · 8 months

Text

Demon In A Bottle

Took me bloody well forever, but I'm off work now, so here we go!

Febuwhump: Day 1 - Helplessness

Word Count: 5,395

Summary: In the wake of a battle with a demon, one that's abilities allow it to dredge up old miseries, Sky must hunt down their straying captain to try and stop him drowning said old miseries in whiskey.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Alcoholism and Substance Abuse

notes: quite frankly, the theme of this fic is in no ways lighthearted, but while the title jumped out at me from the story, I find it also makes me laugh. I can’t help thinking of the tweetle-beetle-bottle-puddle-paddle-battle-muddle from Fox in Socks and I don’t know if I hate myself for it or am just glad I can giggle about something related to this story!

If there’s one thing heroes are supposed to be able to do, it’s save people. By definition, a hero is someone who helps others, but in meeting the rest of their chain of heroes, Sky has since learned that the title of hero means something else too.

The Hero is a man or child clad in green who appears when Hyrule is in danger to fight away monsters and evil and restore peace to the kingdom. The fashion in which they do so differs of course, as he’s slowly learning, but the fact remains that a hero still has a duty to his people and his country, and while it’s not always something thrust upon them, each one of his brothers bears that burden. Some of them let it drag them down, the weight of the world on their shoulders an inescapable duty, others shoulder it as a life purpose, a defining role, something that they’ve built their whole being around, and others, like Wind, regard it as a natural course of action.

It’s strange, learning that the title is so commonly used, that so many men and boys have borne it since it was given to him what feels like ages ago. In a way, it’s nice knowing that there are others, that there are people like him who understand things, yet in the same breath, they’re all so different, and with such varying experiences that really, in the long run, they’re as different as night and day sometimes.

As if to prove it, Legend’s blatant lack of trust in knights clashes with the fact that so many of them bear the honor of knighthood with pride. Warriors is a polished, well-spoken soldier, trained in the ways of combat, and Twilight is a ranch hand hailing from the country village of Ordon, brash in many ways that clash with the captain. Time is quiet, distant at times, and Wind is warm, welcoming and an ever-present ray of sunshine at their sides. Where Hyrule is unpolished and unassuming, the majority of their group stand out in a crowd. Wild can cook. Truly, there is such variety among their number that it’s a wonder they can all be classified by the same singular word: a hero.

But just because the title is there, doesn’t always mean it always feels like it fits.

Sure, Legend’s whole being is built around his life as a hero. They're not sure how long he’s been doing it, but they don’t call the young man “veteran” for nothing. It’s clear he owns his title without shame, living out each day in the effort of following the destiny given to him. Sure, Wild has taken to heart the burden bestowed on him, striving to be the best he can be and own the title. Sure, Wind accepts it like it’s just another truth about himself, just the same as his golden hair and ocean blue eyes. Yes, the old man seems to characterize what any child might think of when asked to describe a hero. But Sky is not Legend or Wind or Wild or Time or any of the other heroes. They are of the same spirit, and some of them apparently share blood (why had Twilight and Time told no one?) but they are each their own separate selves, each with his own life and person, and unlike them, Sky feels the weight of their shared title acutely.

It was his duty to save Zelda. The weight of the future was on his shoulders. His duty was protecting the people of Hylia and restoring peace and safety to the surface. His whole world expanded in one day from a smattering of islands high above the clouds to a whole huge land full of people and animals and duty.

Duty. What a heavy word.

It follows him. Even with the sword now silent, Fi having gone to rest with the assurance that he has accomplished what he must and no longer requires her aid and guidance (even though he does, he still does, please, Fi, some advice would be great from time to time) his mission isn’t over. No, because now that he’s defeated the god of evil, now that Zelda is safe, now that Impa is dead, he is the one Hylian out of all of them who knows enough about the surface to guide the other in surviving there. Yet, in the same breath, he’s still the youngster who barely graduated Academy, never mind being properly knighted. He’s still young enough that the elders sometimes doubt him, but experienced enough that they know not to treat him like a child. He’s ‘too young’ to understand the Knights of Skyloft, but has seen more of the world than they ever have.

It’s strange, being caught in such an imbalance. People expect so much and yet so little of him. They want him to know what’s happening but doubt that he does. They ask for advice but question anything he gives them.

It’s exhausting. He knows Zelda used to tease him before, but the nickname “sleepy-head” never felt so accurate.

At least with the chain though, he doesn’t need to worry about it. Call him selfish, but there’s a certain kind of relief that comes from allowing someone else to take the lead, knowing that everyone else understands the world around him better and knows what to do. He doesn’t need to babysit them around new species or warn them about dangerous conditions or fauna. He doesn’t need to even be on guard, instead free to drift along at the center of the group, knowing that Twilight’s sharp ears and Legend’s acute sense of danger will provide ample warning if anything does come upon them.

He’s free to sleep for the first time in what feels like forever, without someone busting through his tent in a panic because they heard keese for the first time or realized that rain existed. In fact, he’s allowed to even sleep in sometimes, no plans or defenses or responsibilities waiting for him when he wakes up, just simple easy to follow orders of get up, get ready, walk, fight, and make camp.

Call him crazy, this adventure has been almost a vacation if it wasn’t for the fact that Twilight almost died on them a month ago! Or then again, there’s been a lot that happened since then, but even with that in mind, at least he’s not the sole one responsible for the safety, care and guidance of his fellow heroes. More often than not, actually, they’re the ones looking out for him. Honestly, he doesn’t know how he’ll thank Legend for teaching him about the poisons on the surface, or Wild for letting him peek at the champion’s slate to read what he can about monster types, weaknesses and whatnot. The other heroes have this and that to add, of course, but those two have been the most helpful, seeking him out in order to show him things first hand when they can, so that while Wild and Hyrule often go to muck about, he and Legend find their free time typically spent with the veteran teaching him everything he knows about the surface world, survival, and even matters beyond that; matters beyond being a hero and more about just being. It's nice learning things for the sake of learning, not for the sake of staying alive, and Legend talks with a similar cadence and manner to Fi when he’s caught up in expounding on this point or that, uninterrupted because Sky very much appreciates both the effort and the guidance.

For all Legend has to share with him though, the vet isn’t exactly someone he can turn to when it comes to problems with people. Honestly, sometimes it feels like he returns the kindness shown to him by the younger hero by covering Legend’s ass when it comes to social interactions, at least among their group. The vet’s left a terrible first impression on most of them, and since it seems everyone else is equally bad as he is when it comes to communication, there’s still many in their group under the impression that their vet is a total asshole.

So yeah, Legend is not the best person to ask for help when it comes to people issues. Time either. Time and he aren’t close by any exaggeration of the word, and while the older man is willing to offer advice here and there, Sky’s not certain he feels comfortable seeking it out. Typically speaking, he’s found that Warriors is the best person to ask about these sorts of things, being as he is a man and not a child and possesses the social skill necessary to address this sort of thing, only....

Only, it’s terribly hard to ask someone for advice on how to handle their own stupidity.

He is not blind. Okay, well, maybe, and to some things, but missing Time and Twilight’s relationship is likely more a matter of him not being close enough to either to really put much stock in their interactions. Their leader’s fondness for one of their number wasn’t too shocking considering how attached he himself has become to all of them in such a short time. He'd just assumed that Time moved slower and had begun to warm up to them one at a time, starting with the rancher and moving on to the sailor. He'd thought they’d all follow in time, not that Time just ultimately had favorites.

Despite missing that though, he’s not entirely incompetent. He sees his brothers, and much as they might have all assumed he was simply the tired, quiet one, just because he doesn’t speak up doesn’t mean he’s not paying attention. No, he sees what happens in camp. He sees Legend’s tentative bids for connection, Wild’s withdrawn attitude that hides behind the smile and the laughter. He sees Wind’s worry and Time’s stress. He knows Twilight is wrung out and confused after his secret was exposed and the rest of them have had to accept the fact that their silent, furry companion was, in fact, one of their brothers.

He knows that there’s a breach of trust there, or at least a perceived one. Those who didn’t regard the beast as a threat have often sought the company of their wolf companion in order to express troubles or thoughts that they didn’t wish to share with anyone else, including the rancher himself. Not knowing, they’d told him things, thinking he was just an animal and incapable of sharing them, told him things they didn’t want Twilight to know, things they thought or felt. Now, knowing that Twilight is privy to so many of their secrets, it’s perhaps natural that their barriers have been thrown up, their brothers guarded and wary of what he’ll do with the forbidden knowledge he possesses.

He knows it hurts the man, but he understands. He’d never shared his own feelings with their wolf companion, but if Crimson were to one day take hylian form, he’s sure he’d be at least the slightest bit worried about it, maybe even betrayed. Not knowing a dear companion could speak if they so wanted, could be like yourself, would be hurtful. To know they didn’t trust you when you poured out your heart to them...

Yes, he understands.

Unfortunately, that also means that Twilight is, very much, also not in the category of people who he can come to about things that are worrying him. Sadly, it seems none of them are. He’d never dream of asking the younger ones; Wind is a child and should not be burdened with such things, Hyrule is still struggling to make his own connections, Wild may or may not understand and most definitely has enough on his plate already, Legend is Legend, and he’s never been very close with Four.

Which leaves Warriors, who is, again, the course of his frustration.

Because, unfortunately, despite being a hero, and despite killing an actual god, Sky finds himself helpless to face a mere vice, a common demon that seems to have taken hold of one of his brothers.

It started simple. A night after a tough battle, one where he couldn’t sleep and had wandered downstairs from the inn-room he’d shared with a few of the others, a room where Wind was being kept awake for the sake of his earlier concussion from a battle. Stress was high across the whole group, and he’d needed the space so it was natural that he’d wandered downstairs, hoping to sneak outside and catch some fresh air like he used to on Skyloft.

Like on Skyloft, the awful visions that woke him up that night were also cause for his slipping from bed.

His intention had been to step out, to catch the breeze on his face and maybe watch the stars for a bit. Legend often says that the stars hold comfort and assurance, and while he doesn’t know nearly as much about them, or the stories and figures the vet can pick out from the heavens, he does know that cloudless nights remind him of home, and bright lights twinkling above had quickly become the only familiar thing between every place he’s gone.

Maybe that’s why Legend likes them so much; they’re an unchanging constant no matter where you go.

At any rate, he’d needed the space. He hadn’t expected to find any of the others up as well though, much less the captain. In the end, he never made it outside, instead sitting up and talking with the other.

He’d thought little of the nearly empty bottle of whiskey at the man’s side, too busy with his own thoughts and worries.

He’d thought nothing of it either when, after a terrible battle that nearly saw the loss of the traveler and ended with a passed-out Legend and a very bloody Four, he’d found the captain up stewing quietly over ill thought-out plans and reckless behaviors. The off-handed “I need a drink” had been something to just smile and shake his head at.

But then he’d begun to catch on. Rough battles, difficult nights, sleeplessness from worry, from pain and in his own case; from visions. It had resulted in many a night spent up in each other’s company. More worrying still was the constant presence of a little silver flask, held tight in fainty trembling hands as dulled blue eyes would linger over their younger ones.

He’d thought it strange, but it was Wind’s worried “has the captain been drinking again?” that really caught him by the ears and shook him. He’d thought it a passive thing, hadn’t paid it much attention because there was no true way to know what was in that little flask (Legend has one too, but it’s got some kind of sweet, spicey juice in it). The sailor asking about it though had changed that. It had revealed that, no, it wasn’t simply a passing thing and was very much a longstanding issue. It was not at all what he was hoping to find out. More so, the youngest can’t even say anything about it, because the captain knowing that his former charge is aware of the vice apparently would have some very, very bad results.

So, Wind can’t say anything without potentially making it worse. None of the others know or have seen it enough to realize the weight of the issue, and he’s left the only one who not only knows and witnesses it but has nothing he can do about it.

Long nights, dark eyes and pain, so, so much pain in the captain’s face and voice have left him stumbling. The quiet admission of how their elegant captain’s own stepfather was a miserable drunk isn’t any help either, although that conversation had rather quickly turned from him trying to bring up the issue and into the both of them commiserating on the lack of decent father figures in the world.

From there. It just... keeps happening.

He’s watching, trying to say something and so, so easily letting pretty words and prettier eyes distract him into talking about something else. Quite frankly, it would be terrifying if it wasn’t so impressive how the captain manages to dodge his every quiet attempt by redirecting him onto something else, turning the matter around or simply accepting his concern with a smile and an easy, gentle, so very believable dismissal. Yet, he sees the results. He sees the stress and the tension. He sees the misery that before had hidden so prettily behind a polished mask, but which now spills from time to time into a slippery mess before him, catching him in its mire and leaving him floundering, breathless, and scared.

He’s the hero, the one meant to save those around him from trouble, but he’s failing a battle with a bottle that’s he’s not even touching.

Watching the result of that failure, the downward spiral, it hurts. It hurts more than blades or arrows or even poison. In a way, it is a sort of poison; a slow working thing that, while he never touched it, has infected not only his own life but those around them.

As chaos sows itself across the kingdom, poison spreads within their own number. The attention of their brothers, and indeed, most of his own, is fixed on the protection of their home, on defeating the newly risen foe, on ending things so that their lives can return in some small manner to a semblance of normalcy. And somehow, he lets his worries fall to the background, let’s his mind turn to the struggles spawning up around him with the others, with himself, with things that are ever so much more prominent than a little silver flask. Even the yelling match that sprung up between the vet and druken captain hadn’t refocused him, his attention more fixed on other things in the aftermath; Legend’s behavior, his own aggression when shouting at the captain to just cease and desist with beating the dead horse before he’d marched off after the vet.

Fighting and travel have kept him busy since, but failure is as sure a trigger as anything, or so he’s learned. Even now, he watches as the others retreat to lick their wounds, to hide away in their inn rooms, silent and mournful, blood still staining their clothes. He’s sore himself, tired, weary, too worn from the events of things over the last couple of months to actually want more than to lay down himself and sleep, but he doesn’t.

No, because when the rest of them go to hide at the inn, the captain goes off alone, a cold, dangerous, dark look in that drawn and tired face, and worry gnawing at the skyloftian’s own heart will not allow for him to even entertain thoughts of sleep, not when he’s learned to know what that look means. He lingers only as long as he must to ensure all the rest are settled, safe and stable, before darting back out onto the streets.

Watching is hard. Seeking is harder.

There’s an awful sort of feeling that comes over him at the realization that the nearest bar is mostly the new location of his straying brother but finding it in the dark is nearly as difficult as dragging himself towards it, knowing full well what he’ll find inside. He does though, he does because he has to and because it’s the right thing to do. He does it because it’s what a hero would do.

Heroes save people when they’re drawn into danger, and the devil in the bottle is slowly urging his beloved brother and friend in. A steady hiss or whisper or however it’s call manifests for the captain, and one that, if he doesn’t make it in time, he won’t be able to stop from taking hold.

He can whisper a begrudging thanks to the heavens that Warriors is a gentle drunk most of the time.

The bar-room's floor is shockingly clean when he enters, considering it’s a farming town they’ve stopped to stay in at Time’s suggestion. Faint, dusty footprints from one or two people scuff in and out, but he can see where thick ash and dirt have clumped and marched across the floor, and following the trail is the easiest thing he’s done today after fighting a far larger, far more terrifying demon.

In his mind, Sky steels himself; if he can fight Demise and come out alive, he can face up to the captain about this most worrisome coping technique. The key is simply not to let Warriors distract him with something else, so at the first mention of anything that’s not the man’s own issues, he needs to start to redirect.

Hylia above, why couldn’t those cursed goddesses have granted him even just the smallest piece of Wisdom? Charging in is the easiest part, getting through the battle with a silver-tongued soldier is the thing it seems he can’t do properly.

Glass taps on polished wood, a heavy and familiar sigh following. Trailing his eyes towards the back corner of the room, he can easily make out the bloody and worn form of his brother, slumped against a small table and already with a hand ploughing through his ash dusted hair. Warriors looks like hell. Dark bruises beneath darker eyes, face drawn and still stained with the remains of their defeat. The usually proud appearance has been crippled, uniform torn and filthy, and blood still spattered over armor, leather, and skin. The man doesn’t so much as spare him a glace as Sky settles across from him at the table, keeping the barrier between them for both their sakes.

“Hey.”

A long, drawn-out sigh sounds off the wood of the worn bar table.

Sky waits. Pressing any of his brothers is counterproductive. Sitting quietly, taking in the situation, is the best approach, letting them determine whether or not they’re ready to speak yet. He won’t push either, he just sits and rests his arms on the table, glancing the empty glass and the blessed lack of a matching bottle.

“What d’you want, Sky?” Still not even a flick of dull eyes up towards him. “Shouldn’t you be with the rest?”

He shrugs, stiff, as though he’s not being eaten up a bit with guilt at leaving them. The other adults can keep an eye on things though, and Wind was already doing a marvelous job of talking them out of their heads. It’s up to him to handle the captain though, as the sailor may or not have even been allowed inside the bar. The kid shouldn’t be here anyway, for the captain’s sake and his own.

“I didn’t feel right about letting you go off alone.”

“The kids need you right now.”

“They need you too,” he challenges, leaning a bit closer and trying to catch the turned away eyes of the other. “And I think you’d do yourself some good to be around them.”

A twitch of the fine-featured face before him is his only answer as sooty fingers toy with the empty glass between them. It’s lifted briefly, before the other man seems to check himself and realize it’s empty.

Sky needs to prevent it getting refilled. Hopefully, he can drag the captain’s ass out of here and back to their brothers before then. The key is just getting through to him, and though it feels like ages since he’d looked at the other man and found only unreadable smiles and perfection, there’s still a barrier that stops him really understanding what the captain might be thinking. Goddesses above, how is it that even Legend is easier to read than this man?

“Wars, you’re worrying me.” He tries. Slowly, softly enough that no other patrons in the place will hear him, but it seems the captain doesn’t hear it either.

No, the man just taps his glass against the table-top, distracted, and sigh so heavy he seems to shudder. “Go back, chosen.”

“No, captain.”

In battle, maybe blue eyes hold the flames of the goddesses themselves, but in the dim light of the bar, there’s only a dullness and flickering darkness that makes him want to shift and draw away. He doesn’t though, doesn’t dare. Instead, he sits under that stare for the brief second it's spared, and then the soldier is shutting his eyes with yet another heavy sigh. “Rest, you need it.”

“I can’t.” You’re here, he wants to add. You’re out here and you’re worrying me, and I can’t sleep easy until I know we’re all safe.

Fine features twitch, shifting into a frown that would be very terrifying indeed if Sky hadn’t gotten used to all the harsh looks of his team over the last while. Time’s dark looks and Warriors’ disapproval aren’t nearly as weighty all things considered, and he carefully doesn’t respond when the other looks up at him again, brows drawn low and tightly together, jaw twitching slightly. “Sky-”

“Link,” he returns, sharp to match the look he shoots at the other. Their given name slips strangely off his tongue and earns a twitch of the brows in answer. “No. I’m not letting you sit alone a stew.”

“Even if I want to?” The glass taps loudly against the table, a sharp contrast to their low voices. “Does that matter at all?”

Okay, that’s just a bomb-burr waiting for him to walk too close. “Link, please,” and the use of their shared name seems to have fingers closing tighter over the mouth of the whiskey glass, “we both know what will happen if I leave.”

His words are proved by the lack of verbal answer, instead the tapping of the glass back onto the table as dark eyes meet his. They’re blank again, impossible to read past that closed off, stern expression. It's not one he’s used to facing much these days, but he’s seen it turned on the younger ones plenty of times.

“I leave,” he presses, “and you’ll drink.”

There’s the faintest tightening again around the glass still clutched in sooty hands. “It could be worse.”

“You’re right,” he agrees, nodding slowly, “it could. I could keep ignoring it and you’ll keep getting worse.” He steels his own jaw, folding his hands if only for something to do with them before he meets the stare now fixed, heavy and harsh, on his face. “When we all met, you hardly touched the stuff save maybe after a bad battle, and I mean a really bad one.” The same as Time here and there. The same as any man likely might. A really bad day is fair enough excuse for one drink, but Warriors used to stop at one, and now he doesn’t. “Now it seems every time our backs are turned...” he motions to the glass, watches as blue eyes dart down to follow his gaze.

The captain’s hands aren’t shaking like they normally do. They’re perfectly still as he clutches hold of the empty cup.

He doesn’t like it. The tremor is normal, it is a sure sign of ease. He knows the after effects of their last battle, the magic in it, the illusions cast around them of the worst they’ve seen, worst they’d imagined, used as a distraction shook all of them, but seeing the man still so tightly wound, still so caught up in his head that his body is still responding as though he’s in immediate danger, it doesn’t sit well with him.

“Come back to the inn,” he begs. “We all-”

The sudden shriek of the chair as the soldier stands might be what cuts him off, the cold look in closed off eyes definitely is though. “I don’t know what that demon showed you, chosen, but know this: you can fight gods and you can win, but some of us have fought men and believe it or not, there’s something quite different and more terrible about that.” It’s the clipped soldier’s voice that speaks to him, resounding enough in the bar that everyone else present has fallen silent and tense, looking up from their own conversations to stare. “So go back to the inn, get over what you saw, and let me do the same here so we can face the demon again in the morning.”

“Wars-”

The other turns, heading back to the bar and no doubt with full intent to refill the glass he holds.

Sky darts after him. “Please, Link! This isn’t good for you!”

“Well, it isn’t exactly hurting you now, is it?” Is the sharp answer as barkeep approaches the two of them, wary.

For a moment, Sky debates between telling the barkeep to not serve his brother and telling the captain to just walk away. Caught betwixt, he misses the opportunity for both, too distracted, too unfocused, to slow, and when his brother motions for the bottle in the hands of the barkeep, it’s only then that he gets his wits about him enough to catch hold of the thing himself.

The barkeep darts away, no doubt eager to avoid the mess as snapping eyes fix on storm cloud blue as Sky’s voice rumbles low like thunder between them. “You doing this hurts everyone that loves you. We can’t stand to just sit back and watch anymore.”

“Well no one asked you to watch,” the captain bites, “or care.”

“But we do,” he answers back, trying desperately to catch those eyes again, “we chose to be your brothers, and thus we chose to stad beside you.”

“Then don’t blame me when your choices get you hurt.” The hand he’s set on the bottle is knocked away as, once more, Warriors turns his back on him and heads back to his table.

He’s not sure if he should chase or walk away or give up. He’s left standing for a moment before darting after, again, unable to stop the other as a finger of amber is poured and knocked back without so much as a flinch. Well, not a flinch from Warriors, he finds himself recoiling just the slightest bit as he watches.

He tries again, this time not daring to push further by touching the forbidden poison, but instead trying to break through and get the other to just look at him. “Link, please, you’re killing yourself like this.”

Dark eyes are empty, lifeless, as they turn upwards to look at him, like visions of the sealing grounds were once, thousands of years ago; barren and ruined by battle and death. “Good.”

And then it’s gone, another glass knocked back and Sky left standing, only able to watch.

What else is there to be said? What argument is left to beg, to plead, to convince? He’s the hero, he’s good with his hands, his blade, his strength. He sees foes and he crushes them. He sees allies and he aids them. But when an ally embraces the foe, what then? What’s left for him to do? What course of action is there left save to beg? And when even that fails there is nothing.

Nothing but watching, unable to go back without fulfilling his mission and unwilling to let his brother be left alone in the weakened state the quickly emptying bottle will leave him in. All he can do is watch as golden poison flows, as sooty, bloodied, burned hands lift and toss back, as glass clacks against the tabletop again only to be refilled once more. There's nothing else he can do or say. There may be other arguments, but they’re lost to him, buried instead under that horrible stare and the cracked and shattered soul that had glinted through on that single, devastating ‘good’.

It’s not the first defeat he’s faced today, but between the two, this is the one that leaves him truly helpless in it’s wake.

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