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flowerandblood · 3 months

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The Doubt & The Delight

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

This is the last part of this story. Thank you all for such a nice reception of this entire mini-series, it was supposed to be a oneshot, but as usual it turned out to be something more! This is probably one of my favorite works here and I can't wait to hear your opinions.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night, after what had happened between them, he sobbed silently for the first time since the day of the accident in which his parents died. He didn't know what else he could do − he felt helpless and couldn't sleep, despair completely possessing his heart and mind.

Don't ever touch me again.

We are even.

He clenched his eyelids, letting the tears run down the sides of his face onto the pillow lying under his head.

Some part of him wanted to go to her door, to fall to his knees and beg her to open it for him, to let him hold her close, to fall asleep in her embrace.

He needed her so much, but he knew he had no right to demand anything from her.

She was doing more than she had to anyway.

He shuddered as he heard the sound of the door opening; stupefied by the sedatives and painkillers for a moment he had no idea where he was or who he was − he raised himself up on his elbow and hissed, feeling his head ache incredibly.

He opened his eyelids and immediately closed them, blinded by the light from the windows − he gave up with a sigh laying back on the couch, trying to calm himself down.

"Daeron?" He called out loudly, trying to remember what had happened, whether he had drunk too much alcohol the evening before or overdosed on sleeping pills.

He heard someone's footsteps and froze when he saw her frightened face; she came towards him with her eyes wide open as if looking at a ghost, stopping at a safe distance.

"− I'm just helping him change, we'll come soon − God, how pale you are, should I call the doctor again? −" She muttered clearly genuinely horrified by his condition, but he shook his head quickly.

"− did you call the police yesterday? −" He asked lowly, thinking with horror that no one at the prosecutor's office could find out that he was still struggling with his trauma and had almost caused a car crash.

She shook her head quickly, playing with the fingers of her hand in a nervous gesture.

"− n-no − the man we almost collided with wanted to do it at first, but when we got out of the car and said you'd fainted he called an ambulance and let it go − he apparently decided you'd just had some sort of attack and didn't want to add to our problems −" She replied once looking him in the eye, once looking away − he could see that she clearly wasn't coping with the situation or what had happened between them.

He sighed in relief, running his hand over his face, thinking about the fact that securing Daeron's fate was now his priority and he needed to pull himself together.

"− I'm going to go help Daeron and we'll make something for breakfast soon −" She said quickly and turned away, moving down the corridor towards his little brother's room, disappearing behind the door.

The two of them had tried not to look at each other all morning, heartbroken and horrified by what had happened between them − they both felt that their lives had slipped out of their control and he resented himself for dragging her into it all.

The doctors advised him to stay at home for a few days and rest, so he called Alys to ask her to bring him his documentation.

"− sick leave? − something happened? −" She asked concerned, and he sighed heavily, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, not having the strength for this discussion.

"− I've been overworking lately, I need to slow down − can I count on you? −" He asked matter-of-factly, hearing her snort of amusement on the other side.

"− sure − I'll be there in half an hour −" She replied calmly and hung up; he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and put the phone down on the table top.

He glanced over his shoulder, hearing the sizzle of the pan and shuddered meeting her gaze − she lowered her eyes immediately as if caught in the act, concentrating on not burning the pancakes, Daeron wheeled around her in his wheelchair placing clean plates and cutlery beside her.

They ate breakfast together, both of them really only talking to Daeron, passing cups and juice to each other out of politeness only. He felt a pleasant shudder when his fingers touched hers, looking her straight in the eyes − her lower lip twitched a little, only a quiet, sad thank you came out of her mouth.

As they ate Daeron said he would do his own homework and then change her to look after him, as if he was now the one to take on the role of his caretaker.

As he left his Esmeralda stood up, picking up the dirty dishes from the countertop − he took his plate from her hand, swallowing hard.

"− no need, I'll do it − I'm better now, I don't want to force you to stay here any longer than necessary − thank you very much −" He said in a low voice, getting up from his seat and stepping around her, opening the dishwasher with a light movement, tossing in the cutlery and other dirty dishes she'd held earlier.

He felt her looking at him, his heart pounding like crazy, for some reason he wanted to cry again.

"− I'm sorry − for what happened yesterday −" She muttered in a whisper and he raised his shocked gaze to her, frozen still.

She stood in front of him covering her mouth with her hand, trying to silence the loud, ragged breath that shook her body along with the sob that wanted to break from her throat, tears began to fall from the corners of her eyes one after another.

God, she was remorseful.

"− no − no, stop − you didn't do anything wrong, I wanted it −" He said quickly, but she shook her head.

"− I couldn't sleep − I felt awful −" She uttered with difficulty, choking on her own tears, and despite her telling him never to touch her again he put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him in one sure movement − her body did not put up any resistance to him, her fingers tightened on his sweatshirt in a helpless gesture.

"− I-I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you −" She mumbled out and burst into quiet sobs.

He thought with despair that he had broken this poor girl, brought her to a state where she felt like an abuser.

He embraced her tightly, snuggling his face into the hollow of her neck, stroking her back reassuringly − her wonderful scent and the warmth of her body had a soothing effect on him, he thought he wanted to remember this moment for a lifetime.

"− I'm the one who hurt you − I took something away from you and you tried to get it back − you asked me if I wanted it and I made it clear that I did − easy − breathe deeply − it's all right −" He whispered in a trembling voice, running his large hand through her back and hair. She snuggled into him so tightly that he felt tears under his eyelids himself − he pressed his lips together not wanting to let them flow out but it was no use.

"− thank you for everything − I'm feeling better now, I'll be fine by the time Helaena arrives − go home and get some rest − I'll think of something and explain to Daeron why you can't work for us anymore − I'll send you your pay by transfer so you never have to see me again − hm? −" He asked softly and she only nodded, her whole chest trembling in convulsion as she drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her.

He wanted to tell her that she was the most wonderful person he had ever met.

He wanted to tell her that if she ever needed help, she could always count on him.

He wanted to do that, but he only flinched when he heard the doorbell ring, reminding himself of Alys − they moved away looking at each other in pain, the sight of her wiping her cheeks red from tears broke his heart.

He realised that he was a monster.

As soon as he opened the gate for her, Alys walked into his house with thick folders of documents in her hands, looking elegant as usual in her jacket, long trousers and high heels. She smiled at the sight of his Esmeralda, and she pressed her lips together realising with horror that she stood dressed only in his hoodie.

"Good morning. We don't know each other yet." Alys said to her and held out her hand to her − she, not knowing what to do, herself embarrassed by the situation and how it looked shook her hand, squeezing it firmly.

"Good morning." She muttered and just threw to him that she was going to go see how Daeron was doing with his homework − Alys led her away with her eyes looking at her with a calm, curious expression on her face.

"Who is this beautiful little flower? In addition wearing your hoodie I think." She asked amused, a note of mock accusation in her voice, as if she had solved the equation. "Is it because of her that you can't concentrate lately?"

He threw her one warning, sharp look, which did not deter her, however − he sighed heavily and shook his head.

"She's Daeron's caretaker and she had to stay here to help me take care of him after I fainted yesterday. They were at a carnival ball together and she had nothing to change into." He replied coolly, wanting to end the subject quickly, frustrated.

"Is that why you both cried?" She asked lowly raising an eyebrow, the piercing look in her bright green eyes told him clearly that she felt the tension that hung in the air between them. He swallowed loudly, looking away, not wanting to look at her smile full of satisfaction.

"Thank you for bothering to come all the way out here. I'll be gone for a week, we're in touch." He replied dryly − she threw over his shoulder that if he needed her for anything he could count on her and smiled at his Esmeralda heading for the exit, saying it was a pleasure to meet her.

As the door closed behind her there was an awkward silence between them. He saw that she was wearing his hoodie and shorts that were too loose on his brother but on her they fit perfectly despite the manly cut, in her hand she held the bag with her costume.

She was leaving.

He will never see her again.

"Are you sure you can manage?" She asked uncertainly, not looking at him. She seemed pale to him, he thought that for some reason Alys' visit had saddened her, but he didn't even dare assume it might have had anything to do with him.

At most, she might have thought he was a bigger bastard and pervert than she suspected.

"Yes, we'll be fine. Thanks again." He muttered, trying not to look at her, but to poor effect, thinking only of how wonderful it was to hold her in his arms, how tightly she snuggled into him seeking refuge and comfort.

He realised that he craved such closeness from her as much as the touch of her naked body.

He wasn't just about sex.

She, however, merely nodded, raising her sad, tired, embittered gaze at him once more, and after a moment she turned and disappeared behind the door.

The hours leading up to Helaena's arrival he spent with Daeron, playing together FIFA'23 and other games that his brother thought would distract him from all the unpleasant events of the past weeks.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine. You just need to rest. It's good that you and Esmeralda have reconciled." He said clicking beside him on his pad, trying to win a race against him on the big space track. He swallowed hard, thinking with pain and shame that they hadn't reconciled at all, that they weren't even.

What she did was a desperate attempt by her to regain what he had taken from her, the feeling that she had power over her own body.

It didn't bring her any relief though − it seemed to him that it made her feel even worse.

She wasn't like him − she'd probably never behaved like this before, and she was horrified to find that she didn't recognise herself.

He had destroyed her, taken away her innocence, devoured her.

He pressed his lips together, trying to stop the burning tears that forced their way under his eyelids from flowing and grunted loudly, trying to focus on the game.

As he prepared the room where his sister was to sleep, and where his Esmeralda had previously spent the night, he noticed a purple cloth lying on the floor. He reached out and picked it up, realising after a moment that it was a scarf she had worn on her head in the form of a headband.

He pressed it to his face and closed his eyes, with a squeeze in his throat thinking that the material was permeated with her scent.

He kept it.

Helaena had arrived straight from the airport in a taxi for which she had paid crores − as soon as she stepped inside she dropped her suitcase, ran up to him and threw herself into his arms. He burst out sobbing, feeling her familiar, tender closeness.

He wasn't sure when was the last time someone had hugged him, stroked him, told him everything was going to be alright, that now he was the one being taken care of.

Taking the opportunity that Daeron was playing in his room on his laptop, they sat side by side on the living room couch to discuss what had happened.

"I think I've stopped coping. I'm slowly losing my self-control." He muttered, burying his face in his hands, feeling that he needed to at least partially throw off what was going on inside his head − he felt his sister stroking his back comfortingly.

"Me and Aegon left you alone with all of this, sinking into our own grief. We all focused on Daeron because we decided you were older and better able to handle it all." She said with pain and some kind of regret, as if she only now realised that he wasn't a fully formed adult then either.

He let the air out of his lungs, feeling like a small, clumsy child again, embarrassed that he wasn't coping, that he had chaos in his head, that he was stuck and unable to get out of the mess he had sunk all the way into.

"I thought it would be good for you to have a change. For you and Daeron to fly with me for a few weeks, get some rest, during which time we can work together to find you some sort of therapist, someone to help you get over all this." She said warmly, and he shook his head quickly, terrified of her suggestion, of having to reinvent himself somewhere, of not being in his home, of not having his things and activities.

"No, I can't do that. I need a rest, but here, at home. I do think, however, that it will do Daeron good to spend time with you, to get away from it all. Maybe when I have a bit of time to myself I can somehow…sort it all out." He muttered, feeling her worried gaze on him.

"You shouldn't be left alone."

"I haven't been alone with my thoughts for five years. I need this." He said regretfully, realising that he had devoted all his strength to his younger brother, leaving himself with nothing.

He felt empty.

"And he needs a change of environment. He sees me gloomy and tired every day. You will help me the most if you take care of him for a week or two so that I can get myself in order."

"You have to promise me that you will go to therapy. You're taking on too much on your shoulders." She said cautiously, and he nodded to her, wanting everyone to finally give him a break.

Daeron was at the same time happy about the sudden unplanned holiday, but on the other hand very worried that he was going to be left alone at home.

"But who will take care of you? Esmeralda?" He asked hesitantly, and he replied that he would manage on his own, that they would talk on the phone every day, that he just needed a bit of rest to think things over.

As they packed to leave he was with them in body, but not in thoughts which drifted far away to her, to what had happened between them.

Despite the fact that they had sex with each other twice, it was the memory of that morning in his kitchen when he held her in his embrace that he remembered most, the innocence and tenderness of that gesture, the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, the fact that for a moment she had allowed him to get close to her.

He knew he would never see her again.

Waving them off, already seated in the taxi, watching them drive away he wondered what the point of living such a terrible person like him was.

He cleaned the whole house, sorted the papers in his office, put up the laundry and emptied the dishwasher, doing everything unhurriedly with complete silence all around him, only the sound of the wind outside the windows and the quiet pounding of raindrops against the windowsills.

He finally sat down on the sofa, staring dully ahead, before lowering his gaze to the small container of sleeping pills he'd been taking for days to get at least a few hours of sleep.

He wondered how many he'd have to swallow to not wake up.

He didn't know why his hand reached for his phone − his fingers tapped out a question on Google and, to his surprise, many different topics on forums about how to commit suicide painlessly popped up.

He read statements from some young, desperate, frightened people who couldn't cope with life and responses from others, some encouraging them to commit the act and explaining how to do it, others asking them not to do it, that they would be happy to talk to them, to support them through this difficult time.

He thought of Daeron, of how if he had done it, his little brother would have completely broken down, that it would only add to the pain of his whole family, and that Helaena would never forgive herself for leaving him alone.

That it would have been selfish of him.

On the other hand, his mind reminded him of his aggressive, merciless interrogations, the way he approached witnesses, the way he approached Alys, what he did to his Esmeralda when she recognised at once his malicious, dark nature.

How was someone like him supposed to continue to take care of Daeron? How was he supposed to pretend that he was a good man who could advise him on anything, be his authority?

He thought that his little brother should have stayed with Helaena − she was the calmest of them all, surely she would have handled his parenting much better, given him what he needed.

He reached for a small container of pills and stared at it, turning it between his fingers with a loud rattle, wondering dispassionately what he should do with himself.

He hummed as if he remembered something and slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a thin, purple folded cloth − he looked at it, feeling the need to call her.

He didn't know why he would do that when he was sure she didn't want to see him and couldn't even look at Daeron, to whom he would have to explain why she would no longer be taking care of him upon his return.

He guessed that she would only pick up out of politeness, and he would again flood her with his problems, his suicidal thoughts, forcing her to worry about him, to feel sorry for him even though he didn't deserve her sympathy.

He didn't even know when he unscrewed the container, when he tilted his head and poured its entire contents into his mouth, taking a deep sip of water after this, letting his judgment of himself run deep into his stomach.

He seemed to regain his sanity only after a moment, staring at the empty vessel wondering what he had actually done.

Oh fuck.

God, what had he done?

No, no, no, no.

He went into a complete panic, his heart started pounding like crazy − he didn't know how much time he had before he lost consciousness, so in a gesture of helplessness he dialled her number quickly, wondering if she would answer from him this time.

He thought he was pathetic, but he was scared, there was no one else to turn to − his body was shaking all over from stress and terror, his breathing quick and raspy, tears of fear in his eyes.

Biip.

"− hello? −"

He heard her uncertain voice on the other side and drew in the air loudly, shocked, swallowing hard, taking a deep breath, running his hand over his face.

"− fuck − I − I − I did something very, very stupid − I took a whole packet of sleeping pills − I don't know what came over me − oh fuck, what have I done −" He muttered in a squeaky, high-pitched voice, like a helpless child who had broken a vase and realised what his parent would do to him when they found out.

"− what? − oh God − are you home? − I'm calling the ambulance −"

"− n-no − no, fuck, they'll kick me out of the national prosecutor's office − please −"

"− go quickly to the bathroom and try to induce vomiting − give me the code to your gate, I'll be right there −"

He seemed to act in an amok, as he rose from the couch everything around him swirled − she told him to take his phone to the restroom, so he did.

He fell to his knees in front of the toilet, shoving two fingers down his throat − after several attempts he finally threw up, whooping with his tears, coughing loudly, his whole body shaking in convulsions, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

How could he do this, how could he be so selfish?

"− I'm sorry −" He mumbled, sliding slowly to the ground, feeling his mind begin to envelope in a blissful peace and quiet, her voice coming from the speaker of his phone seemed to him only a distant whisper.

He thought he would take a nap for a while, rest and when he woke up everything would be fine.

It seemed to him that minutes, hours or years might have passed when he felt someone move his body − he shuddered as someone's fingers forced their way between his lips, his numb body powerless to resist.

"− come on, please − get it out of you − God, what have you done − please, please, come on −" He heard her crying beside him, the tips of her fingers pressing against the back of his tongue, until finally his stomach convulsed with a powerful spasm, and his body threw it all out with his throaty cough of exertion.

He heard her sobs, smelled her scent, her closeness, how her hands washed his face with water, how she stroked his head as she hugged him to her breasts, mumbling in despair that he was a fool, something warm and soft enveloped them.

He fell asleep, recognising that this was what heaven must have been like.

When he woke up he felt everything around him spinning − he muttered in displeasure, another cramp squeezing his stomach.

He pulled himself up, in the dark looking for the toilet, at the last moment leaning over it and vomited again, panting loudly, everything around him blurred, it seemed to him that it was morning.

He heard movement beside him − someone's hand touched his back and stroked him with a gentle, affectionate gesture as convulsion again shook his body, which was trying with all its might to rid itself of what he had swallowed the day before.

Nothing more than a mumble left his mouth, his head drooped involuntarily − he felt someone pull him back to keep him from sliding down onto the tiles. He lay down, something soft enveloped him again.

"− it's okay − sleep −" He heard her whisper and thought that the pills he had taken were causing him to hallucinate, that he was probably dreaming it all, and since he was and she wasn't really there he could embrace her, his arm grabbed her waist, his face snuggled between her breasts again with his loud purr of contentment and exhaustion.

He felt her hands embrace him, stroking his head and back − he thought, feeling the hard floor beneath him, that they were lying in the bathroom and she must have brought the duvet and pillows from his bedroom, sleeping in that room with him.

He fell asleep and woke up hearing someone walking around his house, once in a while someone touched his head − he heard her voice asking him some questions that he was unable to focus on − she was only answered by his frustrated sounds indicating that he just wanted to sleep on.

Finally when he opened his eyes he managed to see anything − the bathroom door was open, the light in the room was off. He had a perfect view of the corridor and part of the living room lit up in the sun − he heard someone's footsteps, his heart jumped into his throat when he saw her silhouette in the doorway.

"− hey − hey, how are you feeling? −" She muttered walking up to him and kneeling beside him, her loose hair in a slight disarray, she was wearing shorts and a plain white Tshirt. He looked away from her breasts when he noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, swallowing hard.

He didn't reply, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame, remembering what he had done, how disgusting and selfish he had acted, that he had forced her to help him again despite having caused her such harm.

"− I − I would like to talk to some therapist −" He choked out with tears in his eyes, not looking at her but somewhere in front of him, his breathing shallow and uneven − it seemed to him as if his lungs had completely clenched.

"− alright − alright, I'll look for someone nearby − okay? −" She asked tentatively and he just nodded, unable to look her in the eye. He heard her get up quickly, and a moment later she was back, sitting down next to him with her phone in her hand, typing something quickly on her screen, apparently scrolling through the accounts of doctors who had offices in the same town.

"− there's a Dr Smith, he's got a free appointment in two days at one o'clock in the afternoon, or a Dr Morgan, but he… −"

"− anyone − as soon as possible −" He said dispassionately, looking blankly ahead, heard her swallow hard and click something quickly, heard his phone vibrate beside him on the floor.

"− I've booked you an appointment and sent you details via message −" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"− thank you − you can −"

"− I spoke to your sister on the phone while you were asleep and told her everything − we agreed that Daeron will stay with her and I'll watch over you until your first appointment −" She said coldly with some kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. He pressed his lips together, feeling his body tremble and closed his eyes, wanting to just disappear.

He shuddered, looking at her in disbelief as she slipped her purple scarf out of the pocket of her tracksuit shorts, the same one he'd found on the floor and kept. She tied her hair with it, combing it into a ponytail, staring straight into his eyes.

"I found this on your couch. Did you think of me before you did it?" She asked, with soft, sure flicks of her fingers arranging her curls as she saw fit. He swallowed hard at her question, feeling a burning sense of embarrassment.

"− yes −" He sighed. She let out a quiet breath at his words, placing her hands on her thighs.

"− are you able to get up? −"

With her help he managed to rise with difficulty − he brushed his teeth feeling the still disgusting taste of vomit and acid on his tongue and then lay down on the sofa, grabbing his head. He watched her silhouetted in the kitchen as she opened the cupboards one by one until she found his first aid kit.

He saw her throw away all the packets of sleeping pills he had.

"− hey −" He threw to her wrinkling his eyebrows, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink without them.

"− you'd better not speak −" She said warningly, without giving him a single glance, so he gave in, sighing heavily and closing his eyes, figuring there was no point in arguing.

To his surprise she moved around the rooms as if this was her home, sat down next to him at the other end of the sofa with an apple in her hand and turned on the TV as if nothing had happened. He looked at her, wondering if she was really going to sit here for days, but then decided it didn't matter.

When he finally got the phone call from Helaena he listened to almost half an hour of a litany from her about how irresponsible and selfish he was, only to hear a moment later that she loved him very much and that he needed to start taking care of himself − he assured her several times that he already had an appointment with a therapist, and Esmeralda wouldn't leave his side.

"− is that what you call me? −" She asked quietly after he had hung up, looking at the TV screen on which the news had just been airing. He looked at her surprised, realising that it wasn't actually her real name after all.

"− yes −" He replied lowly, playing with his phone between his fingers.

They didn't talk much to each other apart from the usual basic politeness. After a couple of hours he felt well enough to get up − he was still dizzy and still had no appetite, but he drank plenty of water and thought with relief that the danger had passed.

Evening finally fell and, tired after all that had happened, he simply headed upstairs to his bedroom, wanting to give her some solitude and privacy.

Changing into his pyjamas, which consisted of a simple t-shirt and black tracksuit bottoms, he shuddered and looked in disbelief at the door to his room when it opened, her figure stepping inside as if nothing had happened, climbing on his bed, lying under his duvet, turning her back to him.

What?

He pressed his lips together, wondering if he should say something or not, but in the end he couldn't resist.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to sleep. I'm tired. Could you turn out the light?" She asked quietly.

He grunted and, as she requested, walked over to the switch, flicking it, complete darkness fell all around them.

The thought that she was going to sleep in the same bed with him, even if only to keep an eye on him, made him instantly hard.

He lay down at a safer distance behind her, looking at her back and neck, knowing that she could feel his breath, but not daring to touch her.

He wondered if she was punishing him this way, showing him that she was at his fingertips, but after what he had done there was nothing else he could do but watch.

It would have been enough for him if he could have just jerked off looking at her, concentrating on her scent and the fact that she was next to him, but he felt he had no right to bring himself relief after all of this.

He didn't deserve it.

That's why he was just dying in agony, writhing − without his pills despite his fatigue he could not fall asleep, on top of that he was too aroused, her closeness was driving him crazy.

"− will you stop squirming? − I can't sleep −" She muttered at last, raising herself up on her elbow, looking at him with furrowed brows.

He felt his lips part involuntarily in desire at the sight of her face, at the thought that she didn't have a bra under her shirt, that there were her lovely breasts under that material that he could caress all night.

"− sorry −" He just choked out, trying to calm his breathing, his cock pulsed painfully swollen under the material of his sweatpants.

He made big eyes and flinched, embarrassed as she pushed back the duvet that covered them both, her gaze going to his trousers and what was going on inside them.

A tense silence fell between them − he could feel his whole body quivering with desire, grief and shame.

He wondered if she would mock his state and his desperation.

"− we can do it if you want − like civilised people − I'd like to experience some sleep tonight −" She said softly and he looked at her in disbelief, the bulge in his sweatpants twitched hard at her words.

"− are you sure? − I wouldn't −"

"− make me feel good −" She said quietly.

He drew in the air loudly as she said this, grabbing the material of her t-shirt and lifting it, pulling it over her head, revealing her lovely breasts to him.

She sighed loudly when his face immediately pressed against her nipple, alternately sucking and licking it with the tip of his tongue, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her back. She moaned quietly, surprised when he pulled her to him, her palms sliding into his hair, holding him close.

They lay on their sides, embracing each other in a tight grasp. He wriggled in disbelief and delight, willing and eager to show her how much he regretted it, how much he desired her, how much he loved her − his hand grasped tentatively her other breast, kneading it with his fingers.

"− so soft −" He gasped, listening to her quiet sighs of pleasure. He felt her throw her leg against his waist, which he grasped confidently, clenching his fingers on her thigh and pulled her closer, letting her feel how much he wanted her, his manhood throbbed impatiently beneath his trousers, hitting her stomach.

"− how −" He asked between flicks of his tongue licking and sucking her hard, puffy nipple like a little child, stroking the soft skin of her hips. He slipped his hand under the material of her shorts, tracing his fingertips over her plump buttocks, wanting to be sure that this time he would do everything the way she needed it, give her pleasure and reassurance, at the pace and the way she wanted it.

She stroked his hair at his question and placed a short, warm kiss on his forehead − he murmured lowly as he felt her begin to rub against him, encouraging him to do the same, his lips letting go of her nipple with a loud plop to look at her.

"− you on top − but touch me down there first −" She whispered embarrassedly, turning onto her back, pulling his arm behind her, looking at him with a gaze hot with desire and affection.

He leaned in, letting his swollen lips brush hers, which responded immediately to his caress, her fingers cupping his neck, deepening the kiss.

"− mmm −" She hummed, squirming beneath him. He ran his hand down her body, in a tentative, unhurried motion slipping his hand under the material of her shorts, wanting to give her time to react, but she sensing this spread her thighs wider, easing his access, his fingers finally running over her swollen, hot, wet womanhood.

"− God, little one − I want to use my mouth here −" He gasped appreciatively, thinking only of the fact that he had been dreaming of this for weeks. He smiled involuntarily when he saw her nod quickly, her sweet, full lips parted in an accelerated breath.

"− okay −" She whispered quietly, letting him slide the material of her shorts and underwear off her − he marvelled at the sight of her naked body, thinking with some kind of emotion that he felt like crying.

"− so beautiful −" He whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her stomach, on her womb, on her hip, on her thigh, knee and calf. He looked at her and noticed that she was watching him intently, her breasts rising and falling in uneven breaths, her hands on either side of her head.

"− come here −" He murmured softly, in a gentle motion pushing her hips closer to him, spreading them in front of him − he heard her gasp loudly as he leaned over her bared flesh. He let his hot breath envelop her skin before his nose ran over her hot, soft womanhood, his lips lazily clinging to her folds, placing a lingering, sticky kiss on them.

He tightened his hands on her thighs when he felt her throw her head back with a sweet, surprised moan, her fingers traveling to his short hair, stroking it in impatient motion, pressing his face close to her body.

"− please −" She mumbled, and he huffed with amusement, trailing his lips up to her puffy clit, sliding then down to her leaking, swollen slit, teasing her barely, not giving her what she needed.

"− no − we're going to do this very, very slowly − with due respect to you −" He hummed contentedly, feeling some kind of pride that he could do it this way, could give it to her and be what she needed.

She whimpered softly, writhing before him, her breathing quickened and shuddered, her body trembling in his hands, thirsting for fulfilment.

"− don't be cruel −" She mumbled resentfully, as if she thought he was teasing and taunting her. He sighed quietly, placing a warm, hot kiss on her sticky skin − a surprised, loud moan escaped her lips as the tip of his tongue suddenly forced its way inside her, deeper and deeper with each stroke, imposing an intense, fast pace on her.

"− o-oh fuck, yes, lick me −" She mewled, clenching her fingers in his hair, bucking her hips against his face, trying to find a more intense source of rubbing. He smirked under his breath as he discovered after a moment between her fleshy muscles the spot he was looking for, her whines increasingly pathetic and helpless, her walls beginning to throb around his tongue.

He heard her whimper his name, her whole body tensed as if she was trying to break away from him, but he didn't stop, letting her come on his face.

He purred contentedly as he felt how much of her moisture flowed out of her tight entrance, determined to make sure he licked every drop and not let anything go to waste despite her cries.

He surprised her when he didn't pull away, but repeated all the steps from the beginning, slowing his pace again, merely teasing her with his lips, her body twitching at his every move, overstimulated and delicate.

"− n-no more − I want you inside me −" She mumbled softly, and he looked up at her, licking his lips with his tongue, feeling her words in his trousers.

Even though he planned to spend the whole night between her thighs, he couldn't refuse such a request.

"− it's okay − there you go −" He hummed, rising to his knees, slipping his sweatpants down just enough to release his swollen, hard erection leaking from his precum. He placed one hand next to her head, the other guiding the fat, pink head of his cock between her widely spread thighs.

"− such a good girl − hm? − my sweet little baby, am I right? −" He cooed and she nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes hazed with desire − it seemed to him that she didn't recognise him, that she didn't believe he was the same man she had met then.

He didn't believe it himself, but it felt wonderful.

They both sighed loudly when, with one slow thrust, he opened her wide on his swollen length, leaning over her, pressing his forehead to hers, her trembling hand rising to stroke his cheek, her lips pressed to his in a warm, innocent kiss.

He murmured contentedly, forcing her to fit all of him inside her with an impatient thrust of his hips − he heard her quiet cry of discomfort and surprise and swallowed loudly feeling his manhood pulsing intensely inside her, so hungry for her closeness.

She closed his waist between her legs, crossing them over his back, and he lay on top of her, pulling his t-shirt off quickly, resting his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing her, feeling her little, puffy nipples on his naked chest.

She sighed sweetly, looking up at him dreamily, trailing her fingers down his face and neck as he slipped out of her only to sink into her again a moment later with a loud click of her moisture − she was all wet and warm inside after her intense orgasm, her muscles squeezing him wonderfully from all sides.

"− that's it − just like that - it's okay −" He whispered tenderly, letting himself sink into the taste of her sticky, plump lips again, her hands trailing down his sweaty, muscled back as he involuntarily sped up his pace, pressing his nose to her cheek, slamming into her with more and more sure, brutal thrusts of his hips, groaning low along with her.

"− oh, fuck, baby −" He gasped, listening to her moans of pleasure, her insides wonderfully warm and tight, quivering all over in sensation, soaking him wet. He began to root aggressively into her weeping cunt panting hard, all around them only the loud sound of their moist, naked bodies slapping quickly against each other.

"− please − please − please −" She mumbled out looking up at him with her mouth wide open, digging her fingers into the hot skin of his back − he could feel her walls clench around him tighter, sucking him inside. He shuddered hard at her words, focusing now only on rooting again and again into her warm, fleshy interior.

"− I don't know if I'm going to let you sleep tonight − I think I'd rather do this with you instead −" He breathed out into her mouth, pushing his tongue deep into her throat − he felt her body shake as she convulsed, her hands clenched painfully hard on his body as she came a second time with sweet mewl of effort, panting loudly as if she couldn't catch her breath, her muscles began to throb greedily around his cock, sucking him inside.

He tilted his head back and sighed in relief, a few sloppy, rough thrusts prolonging the inevitable − his warm cum spilled deep inside her, a hot wave of pleasure surging through his lungs.

He crushed her with his body, feeling their bodies quivering and twitching all over, both of them panting hard as if they had run a marathon, their hands running blindly over each other's naked skin as if they wanted to calm and soothe each other.

"− I love you −" He muttered, lying with his eyes closed, his nose snuggled into her hot, soft cheek. "− you know that, don't you? −"

"− yes −" She answered him quietly, and he sighed heavily, snuggling into her like a small child.

That much was enough for him.

He didn't expect anything from her.

He just wanted her to know it.

He spent that night as if in a frenzy, holding her close, embracing her from behind tightly with his arms, their legs entwined together in disarray. He fell asleep with his face pressed against her hair, completely overwhelmed by her wonderful scent, the warmth of her naked body, one of her hands placed on his making sure he didn't let go of her soft breasts.

They hadn't said much to each other after they awoke − when he turned her face towards him and he just sank into her swollen lips in a sticky, hot kiss. She purred sleepily at this caress, her fingertips running over his jaw.

She let him take her a second time then, from behind this time − she was so wet from their shared moisture that he slid into her without much difficulty, stretching her wonderfully tight walls with a sigh of delight.

He rooted into her with lazy, slow thrusts of his hips, making sure that each time the fat head of his cock rubbed her sweet spot, one of his hands playing with her puffy, little nipple, the other sunk deep between her thighs, teasing her swollen clit.

"− do you want me to stop? −" He whispered in her ear, and she shook her head, digging her fingers into his arm with which he embraced her at the waist.

"− n-no − it feels good −" She muttered in embarrassment − he kissed her hot cheek with a sticky click of his saliva seeing her lips parted in accelerated breath, her dreamy, warm gaze.

"− so I'm afraid I'm going to fill you a second time, sweet girl −" He hummed, running the tip of his nose over her pretty face. She moaned quietly at his words, feeling him suddenly speed up, slamming into her with more confident, brutal pushes − she tilted her head back, his lips immediately pressed against her neck.

"− d-don't − don't leave marks −" She mumbled out, quickly clenching her hand in his hair − she whimpered softly as she felt his fingertips dig harder into her fleshy folds.

"− I won't, baby − shhh −" He hushed her, running his lust-swollen lips over her soft skin, feeling her weeping walls squeeze him greedily at his words, forcing him to thrust into her more aggressively, his fingers sinking into her plushy thigh, holding her in place, panting along with her.

"− ah, G-God − She babbled, responding helplessly to his movements with rocking, both of them groaning in pleasure and relief as her muscles began to clench against him in a sudden orgasm, his thighs all sticky with her wetness.

"− yes, that's it − oh baby −" He muttered, letting go, with the last of his strength thrusting into her for a moment more before his seed filled her to the brim.

He hid the tip of his nose in her hair with his eyes closed, panting loudly with pleasure, holding firmly her body trembling in fulfilment in the tight embrace of his arms.

"− can I stay inside you? −" He whispered into her ear and she only nodded, falling into slumber again a moment later.

For the first time in many years he didn't have to get up at dawn, he didn't have to focus on work, on Daeron, on anyone or anything more than himself and her.

He couldn't believe it was really happening.

He lay thinking only of the fact that he was deep inside her, that he could feel her and smell her − he placed one of his hands over her heart wanting to feel how it beat, how her chest rose and fell in calm breaths.

The days before his appointment with the psychiatrist he had spent between her thighs.

She walked around his house wearing nothing but his T-shirt and it was enough for him standing behind her to lift its fabric a little to see her lovely, plump buttocks.

"− stop − we need to eat something −" She muttered as he knelt on the kitchen tiles while she was trying to prepare dinner for them, so that he could kiss her hot, soft skin with a murmur of satisfaction. His hand slipped lower, between her thighs, his fingertips collecting her moisture mingled with his semen, a reminder of what he had been doing to her all day.

"− I adore you −" He gasped, sliding his lips lower, placing warm, sticky kisses on her thighs and calves, he heard her quiet sigh.

"− does your friend know that you have a second lover? −" She asked quietly, and he froze, quickly lifting his gaze to her, understanding immediately that she was talking about Alys.

He didn't want to make a mistake and lie, but he also didn't know how to present it so she would know that it was a done deal for him.

"− I stopped seeing her after what happened between us −" He said softly getting up from his knees, looking down at her, putting an unruly lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "− I didn't see the point in it, because all I was thinking about was you −"

He confessed with a kind of pain and weariness, and she lifted her gaze to him, her bright eyes looked at him piercingly, warm and gentle. He leaned in placing a long, drawn-out kiss on her forehead.

She snuggled into his chest as if seeking refuge, and he embraced her kissing the top of her head devotedly, running his large hands down her back in a reassuring, tender gesture.

"− I can't promise you anything −" She said at last, and he swallowed hard, knowing what she meant.

"− I know − I don't expect it −" He whispered, cuddling his face into her fragrant hair, closing his eyes, her closeness and her scent calming him in some strange, incomprehensible way.

"− I will always wait for you −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires

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shanastoryteller · 3 months

Note

Happy Holidays! I hope yours are peaceful and joyous.

I would do dastardly things for more identity/porn/gender-is-a-side-dish WWX like the Lady MO story (omg or time travel!!!), but I also love love love your story about Zag and the Prince's court and him helping people 😍 (living blood?). And I also want to read more of FMA Ed in the desert evacuating people (?) and Roy expecting him to be a monster. Ugh and I was just going back through your masterlist and forgot about the series about Godric, but I can't find the name and don't want to run out of time!!! If the untamed still sparks joy, I would love to read a continuation of one of those stories!! If not... dealers choice? Thank you so much for sharing your writing with us!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4

Salazar hasn't had much interaction with the Ravenclaws. His father considers them to be old fashioned, which is the nicest way he's ever called someone poor. Salazar doesn't think the family is particularly poor, even for their status, except perhaps in relation to the level of wealth that marrying his mother gave his father access to.

Or it could be the way certain members of that family never seem to quite manage to give his mother the respect she deserves. Salazar isn't particularly inclined to judge the lot of them based on the actions of a few, but that's not a trait that he got from either of his parents.

Rowena could go either way, considering she's burst down their door and is looking to curse his best friend inside out for the great sin of giving in to his mother's desire to arrange his marriage.

As if he could have stopped her. Salazar wouldn't cross Lady Gryffindor for all the gold in his vault. Godric does it occasionally, as he is the favored son, but certainly not over something like his marriage.

He can tell by Helga's grin that she's far less wary of Rowena, but that's probably because she's delighted when someone manages to take Godric down in a fight. She's disinclined to do it herself unless he really irritates her - beating respect into him is apparently not sustainable.

Personally, Salazar has found it the quickest way to get Godric's head of his ass, but playing mediator between Godric and Helga just ends up with the both of them pissed at him. He's learned to leave them to it.

"Slytherin," Rowena says slowly and Salazar tenses, readying himself for a comment about his father and his choices, then she says, "You've been traveling with him. You know where he is then?"

If anything, Godric's been traveling with him. There are idiots looking to die on his friend's sword everywhere and the books he and Helga are hunting down are significantly harder to find.

"He's at the tournament now," Helga says. Salazar rolls his eyes. "You can probably petition to swap in for his next opponent if you have a personal grievance."

Rowena's eyes narrow. At him, for some reason, even though he hasn't even said anything. "I thought you were his second?"

"I am," he says, then waits for the comment about his scholarly reputation and lack of public duels.

"He's at the tournament," she says slowly, "and you're here."

Salazar tries to think of a way to put this delicately.

"Have you seen the idiots that live around here?" Helga scoffs. "He's not going to need a second. Frankly, he could win with only using his wand or his sword. Subjecting them to both almost seems cruel."

Ah, Helga. A lack of growing up among nobility has left her with all the subtlety of a curse between the eyes.

He wishes he didn't find it endearing, but he wouldn't get along so well with Godric or Helga otherwise.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #uggabuggawugga #harry potter

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sky-kiss · 5 months

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You want a sinning prompt, ill give you a sinning prompt *cough*Ascendedform!usingyoutomakBloodofRaphaeltieflings*cough*

A/n: /checks the time Ok. It’s sin o’clock. I'm hiding everything under the cut. Because it's...well. You know.

___________

Ascended!Raphael x Reader 18+: Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of your actions.

___________

"Look at you," Haarlep breathes the words against your ear, nose tweaked against your cheek. There's a scrape of teeth, and you shiver, screwing your eyes shut against the sensation. Sensitive, so sensitive. Every nerve in your body feels alive. They lick across to the corner of your mouth, turning your head to kiss you deeply. The incubus' tail curls around your thigh, urging your legs to fall apart for him. Fingers circle your clit, a lazy series of strokes meant to build you higher but never break. He chuckles, a mimicry of affection, as he kisses you again. "Such a pretty mess you make. Even Raphael couldn't fault my work."

You gasp, head lolling back against their shoulder. His right arm is a vice holding you back against his chest. The warmth of them helps. Haarlep smells like summer fires and vetiver, fresh and burning; it suits them. You're burning.

Their fingers dip lower, pressing into you and scissoring. You whimper, and Haarlep swallows the sound, pushes their tongue into your mouth, and makes you taste, drink, and welcome him. The fever is almost unbearable. The incubus has stretched and stretched you. All you feel is empty.

"Good girl," they coo. Haarlep wipes your slick on your thigh. They smile against your skin. "So good for us. So ready. Say it, sweetling. Say you're ready."

"Please."

"Ah, ah, that," they nip the tip of your nose, "was not what I asked: are you ready, pet?"

"I'm ready. Gods, please!"

"Oh, darling," he shifts, dragging fingers down your sternum, your belly, down to the apex of your thighs. "After tonight, not one of your gods will have you. All ours. Always." Haarlep hums, leaning their head against yours. "Isn't that right, Raphael?"

Raphael waits, kneeling. The ascended fiend tilts its head to the side, tongue lolling from the center mouth. Its eyes burn with animal intelligence; part of it is weighing Haarlep's words, tasting them. Its wings fan out to the side, brushing the tile, braced for stability. The clawed hands rest on either side of the pair of you.

The beast noses your chest. Scents you. And purrs. You groan, shifting back against Haarlep, lifting your hips.

How lovely you'll look, he'd said, as conversational as he might have been over brunch, full of my seed. That's what you want, yes? To be good for me? Serve me?

You wanted it more than your next breath. The fiend tastes you first, its growl vibrating through your body. The heat makes you shift, panting, glancing over your shoulder for help. The flat of its tongue covers the whole of your cunt with flat pressure, warm and wet; Haarlep leads you in a lazy rock, cock still pressed against your ass. You clench at his thighs, searching for purchase, anything, as the fiend works itself up. The more it laps at you, the wetter you get. The better you taste. The more it wants. Up, and up, and up, and there has to be a breaking point, there has to be a ceiling, there has to, has to, has to…

Your back bows, thrusting into the creature's touch. There is enough of Raphael in there to delight in this naked affectation, and it howls its pleasure, tongue pressing inside your clenching hole. It's being filled with heat, stretched, and you can't help but fuck yourself onto it, welcoming more. You want him. You wish you could put into words how badly you want him.

You're lucky, you know, he'd breathed the words against your lips, skirt rucked up around your hips. His hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he thrusts into you. I've chosen you, little mouse. My treasure…what pretty spawn you'll give me.

And, oh, it's too much. Too much, the head of its cock pressed to your soppy cunt. Haarlep spreads your legs wider, angles you, purring filth in your ear until you're grinding down, desperate. They want to see you speared on him, want to listen to you babble, want to watch you come and come. Raphael pushes, and you jolt, feeling your body finally relent.

You could never take all of him, but you take enough. It lowers its head, licks your cheek, and howls. It fucks without grace or concern, pulling you where it wants, its head thrown back, taking. In the back of your mind, you're vaguely aware of Haarlep laughing, lifting your hips just enough to let the fiend slide deeper. Air is an afterthought. You're screaming, and it's sharp, everything: the heat, the pain, the pleasure. Sweat tracks down your body in lazy rivulets. You're coming apart, but your body won't stop. It's rocking with him, hungry. One of the fiend's hands snakes around your waist, jerking you away from the incubus and into it.

You belong to Raphael, his, his, and you shake, one hand tangling in your hair, one reaching out for Haarlep. He leans over you and kisses you just long enough to leave a fresh swell of intoxicating pleasure rocketing through your system. And then leaves you to the fiend.

You lose track. You're exhausted. It flips you onto your front, up on your knees, filling you again. You ache, but it's good. Its folded over you, panting, screaming, and you break again, clutching at its cock. And when Raphael finally comes, you want to sob; forehead pillowed on your arms—filled with him, full of him. Its spend drips down your thighs.

Fingers, oddly gently, card over your lower back and thighs. Raphael, your Raphael, leans over you, pressing a kiss to the small of your back. He gathers his seed with a chuckle, pushing it back into your cunt. You moan.

"Look at you," he mumbles. "So beautiful. Eternally mine."

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #ascended fiend raphael #asks #my writing #/walks into the sea #bg3 smut

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aziraphales-library · 5 months

Note

Now that we've canonically met Crowley as an angel - are there any fics you feel portray his character before the fall particularly well (i.e., are similar to his portrayal in the show?)

Here are some angel Crowley fics written post-series two...

The Last Flight of the North Star by ghost_daddy (G)

In which Crowley talks to his past self in an attempt to get closure.

I still remember you (even if you have forgotten) by Maleniya (NR)

A fic about Aziraphale witnessing the trail of angel Crowley (Raphael), and how that affects him emotionally.

Love Me As I Am Not As I Was by Vicky87 (T)

Where, “restored to full Angelic status” didn't mean what the Angel thought it did.

An Archangel's Unsuccessful Guide to Heaven by thericochetarrow (G)

He looked at the box halfway hammered against the wall and the hammer in Raphael’s hand. “What are you doing?” “Oh, this?” Raphael gestured at the box. “I’m installing a suggestion box.” Aziraphale blinked. “A… suggestion box?”

Aziraphale and Crowley's (formerly known as the Archangel Raphael) first few meetings up in Heaven, back when everything was fine, and the worst sin that anyone could commit was installing a suggestion box right outside the Metatron's office.

come raise your flag upon me by trinityofone (T)

“Would you care to do the honors?” the Metatron asks. Aziraphale persuades Crowley to accompany him to Heaven, to be Forgiven. Things get...weirder before they get better.

Starmaker and Starlight by NohaIjiachi (G)

“Uhm, excuse me--”

“Oh, it’s you!” the Angel replied, a delighted smile opening on their face once they’d turned toward Aziraphale with a curious blink, and Aziraphale felt something writhe somewhere in his core, like part of him did a happy little somersault. It felt so… Nice, not only being recognized (he did tend to fly under the radar, he knew. He just had one of those faces, you know), but also being welcomed with such open joy.

“Yes. Hello! again,” Aziraphale said with a little nervous laugh, promptly wishing to smack himself. Why did he always have to be so awkward? “I, ah, I was wondering if I could--”

“Suuuuure, com’here!” the Angel replied, self assured and so very confident, the exact opposite of all Aziraphale was. They vaguely waved their hand, and a second little cloud of stardust appeared at their side, sparkling and ever churning with pink and purple hues. “The view from here is the best, get yourself comfortable!”

Aziraphale is lucky enough to meet the nebula Angel a second time, and then a third, and then... Well. The rest is history.

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #angel crowley #crowley was raphael #mod d

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months

Text

“We're all Mad here."

This is the first of a 7-part headcanon series for the Rollo at the Writing Desk blog event; the theme is basically "Rollo pays a visit to each of the dorms, and then chaos ensues". He'll have a chance to reconnect with old enemies friends from Glorious Masquerade, as well as meet new deplorable mages people! First up, an oldie but a goodie... Heartslabyul! (This one is extremely long because there are so many characters to account for 🤡)

A Big Heartslabyul Welcome to Rollo!

His nose is assaulted with the overpowering aroma of roses as soon as he steps foot into the garden. In his hand is an invitation to Heartslabyul: it's the 5th of the month, and therefore, they will be holding a tea party as per the rules of the Queen of Hearts. The guest of honor? Him: Rollo Flamme.

He's immediately flanked by two lines of Heartslabyul students in dorm uniforms, their faces painted with a card suit and trumpets in hand. The brass instruments sound loudly as he passes.

The dorm has gone out of its way to prepare for this occasion: they've strung up lots of flags and lanterns, brought out their best tablecloths and fanciest silverware. The roses are both red and white today too--the colors together, signaling the arrival of a new acquaintance.

Rollo grimaces at the fanfare, the colorful decorations strung up, the sickeningly sweet smells wafting over. It's an ill reminder of Topsy-Turvy Day back home, how all the locals delight in the sin called magic.

Waiting for Rollo deep in the rose garden is the dorm leader and his second-in-command to greet him. Riddle offers a small, polite smile and extends a hand. "Rollo-senpai." (His thinking is, "Rollo-senpai is the headmaster's esteemed guest. Regardless of what happened in the past, we must maintain decorum for the duration of his stay.") Trey nods and gives a slight tip his hat.

Rollo meets them with a stiff smile of his own. His grasp on Riddle’s hand is impersonal, cold. “Riddle-kun and company. I am humbled to be invited to participate in your dormitory’s time-honored traditions.” (It’s a lie, but no one needs to know.)

The celebration begins! Rollo is allowed to sit near the head of the table, and he’s presented with a generous selection of familiar foods: croissants, madeleines, mousses, choux pastries, macarons, tarte tarin… even accursed savarin, the cake he considered the least appetizing.

“I did some research on the City of Flowers,” Trey casually explains. “I heard that’s where you’re from, so I wanted to give you a taste of home away from home.” (And in spite of how much he loathes mages, even Rollo is impressed. “Hmm, most astute. I must say, I commend your diligence.”)

Deuce offers to help Trey serve the guests. He's clumsy as he goes about pouring tea and passing out treats, but he's trying his best! When Deuce gets to Rollo, he attempts to bow in reverence--but ends up smacking his head into Rollo's chin and spilling tea all over him instead!

... Needless to say, Rollo is NOT happy about it, especially not when Riddle intervenes with magic to clean him up against his wishes. Deuce apologizes profusely to him for the rest of the day.

With the abundance of sweets, poor Cater's suffering out here. He makes whatever excuses he can to shove off his desserts onto Rollo, gushing about how "We gotta spoil our guest with Heartslabyul hospitality! Go on, have some of Cay-kun's cakes!"

Riddle offers Rollo a strawberry tart as a sort of... peace offering? Rollo accepts it, but he takes only a small sliver from the whole tart and nibbles on that like a starving man might ration his last loaf of bread. It raises eyebrows, but Riddle wisely chooses to not comment. It doesn't go unnoticed by Rollo, who simply replies, "Everything in moderation."

There's some tension amongst the group, on account of what went down in the City of Flowers having been told to a few select dorm members. Ace in particular is eyeing Rollo suspiciously while he munched on a slice of cherry pie.

"This dorm can barely handle one anger-prone arsonist," he had told Deuce prior to the party, "now we're supposed to deal with TWO? You might as well just set the whole garden on fire to save us some time." (But to Ace's surprise, Deuce actually defended Rollo. "He deserves a chance to redeem himself! If I'm aiming to go from delinquent to honor student, then I should have the same faith in others to change too!")

Whenever Rollo has his back to the first years, Ace makes faces at him or mimics the uptight way Rollo sits—back straight, fingers laced, expression neutral yet stern. When Rollo looks back, Ace returns to acting like everything is totally normal.

Shockingly, it’s Rollo that makes the first faux paus of the afternoon. After the incident with Deuce, he requests coffee in lieu of tea, which earns audible gasps from around the garden. Rollo stares at all the mobs gawking at him as though he has committed a heinous crime. Riddle looks like he's going to strangle a cat. “… Have I said something out of turn?”

Trey intervenes with a fresh cup of tea and tells everyone to relax, whispering to Rollo that coffee is only for birthdays. Really, Trey ends up playing mediator for the entire party.

It's then that Rollo learns that there exists a set of rules penned by the Queen of Hearts herself. Riddle proudly declares that he knows all 810 of them by heart (and that he expects all of his dorm members to do the same to honor the Queen's spirit of strictness). "Oh? And just what might these rules be?" Rollo asks.

Riddle's more than happy to oblige with a looong lecture about the 810 rules. He starts a pop quiz on the spot to test Rollo, and, to everyone's shock, he answers each and every one of them correctly. "I guess you're not student council president of Noble Bell College for nothing," Riddle mutters. "You have an impressive memory." (In truth, Rollo only made an effort to perform well out of sheer spite.)

Cater mentions that he thinks Riddle and Rollo are a lot alike. This riles them both up, and they simultaneously shout, “In what way am I like him?!” (“Ooh, you even share the same thoughts. That’s big twin energy,” Cater laughs.)

While talking over tea, Cater learns that Rollo writes letters instead of using social media. "Eeeeh, there are people that live in this day and age without a Magicam account?! How do you survive..." Cater proceeds to spend the rest of the party chatting him up and trying to convince him to make an account so he can keep in touch (terrible, really--Cater is exactly the type of noisy, frivolous person Rollo detests), all the while Rollo tries his best to dodge questions.

The meal is finished without further (major) incidents--but roughly 15 minutes in, Riddle claps his hands and announces that everyone must leave the table, as per rule 271. Rollo starts to excuse himself, Trey lays a hand on his shoulder and beams. "We need one more player for croquet."

And so Rollo is dragged into playing a round with the Heartslabyul boys. He's told the rules and handed a red flamingo and hedgehog (both of which stare at him dubiously as he handles them as though they're diseased).

On his first turn, Rollo struggles to get his mallet and ball to behave! The flamingo keeps twisting its neck instead of staying straight for his shot, and the hedgehog keeps scampering away!! "Strange, they usually behave so well," Riddle notes. ("They must not like the cartoon supervillain vibes he's giving off," Ace grumbles in the background. "A-Ace! You can't just say that!" Deuce protests. "What if he hears?!")

His hedgehog sneezes when he at last punts it, which brings the game to a screeching halt as all the card soldiers burst out into song. (Rule 304, Rollo lamented. Why can't they be silent like unrung bells?! His blood pressure is rising, his ears ringing. He tries to focus on the match to distract himself.)

Over time, Rollo becomes more accustomed with how to get a control of his mallet and ball--he's back in the game! (It's not that he's particularly competitive, but he absolutely refuses to be outdone by these haughty NRC mages... especially not Riddle, who's smirking at him so smugly!)

Unfortunately for Rollo, he can't beat Riddle despite his best efforts--though he does manage to snag second place, pulling a little ahead of Trey. There's polite clapping from the other players to congratulate them (though a few look worried).

As Rollo is returning his equipment, a horrible realization dawns on him: rule 703: Whoever comes in 2nd place during a croquet match must serve tea to the Queen the next day. He slowly turns to Riddle, whose arms are folded expectantly. "I eagerly await my tea," the redhead tells him.

Rollo feels faint. He dabs at his forehead with his handkerchief in a vain attempt to dispel some of his dread. (It doesn't help one bit.)

Before he's able to leave, Cater pulls in him by the arm, his phone at the ready. "We should totes take a group selfie to commemorate the occasion~ Since you don't have a Magicam account, I'll print up a copy for you to pick up when you drop by tomorrow!"

Rollo doesn't have the chance to protest before Heartslabyul members crowd around him, squeezing in for the photo. It's hard for him to breathe, trapped between all these writhing bodies and surrounded by boisterous laughter.

He catches the eye of Riddle beside him and manages to choke out, "How you manage with this kind of madness every day, I'll never understand."

"It is mad, yes," Riddle says with a knowing smile, "and there are days when my dorm members drive me up the wall and leave me with no choice but to collar them in retaliation. Still... I think that's part of the fun. The chaos is ours to share. It's something I've never experienced in the small world I came from."

"Preposterous. There is no conceivable way anyone in their right mind would be endeared to this."

... Right?

Just as the tendril of doubt makes itself known… SNAP! The picture is taken, forever immortalizing the moment.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #Riddle Rosehearts #twisted wonderland headcanons #Rollo Flamme #disney twisted wonderland #Ace Trappola #Deuce Spade #Trey Clover #Cater Diamond #Rollo at the Writing Desk #Heartslabyul

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her-satanic-wiles · 7 months

Text

Welcome to my masterlist!

Commissions are open!

My future plans (Available to Bishops and higher, all are commissionable if you want to read them faster.)

All my fics, unless stated otherwise, are 18+. So please proceed with caution, and minors do not interact.

If it has a red DF, it means it's dark fiction, and you should heed the trigger warnings. I would actually recommend to people 21+.

If it has a blue S, it means the work is sapphic.

If it has a purple A, it means the work is achillean.

If it has a green GN, it means the reader is gender neutral.

If it has a pink PS, it means the reader is plus size.

No bound copies, translations, or other derivative works of these fics may be created or distributed without express permission from the author, for monetary gain or public use.

Major thank you to @da-rulah for beta reading all of these!

If you like what you've been reading, why not consider supporting me over on Ko-fi?

Enjoy your stay!

Series

Coming soon...

One shots

Titfucking, (Kinktober 2023) PS “Earthly Delight” by @thew0man ART

Glory Hole, (Kinktober 2023) GN

Pregnancy, (Kinktober 2023)

Series

Divine Desires [COMING SOON] PS

You grew up in the Catholic Church as the daughter of a very powerful Cardinal. However, in your early adulthood, the reigning Pope dies, and the title falls to your father. You learn, as the daughter of a Catholic official, that there are two sides to every story. This lesson is taught by your Satanic counterpart, who does his fair share of opening your eyes to the world around you.

One shots

Hate Sex, (Catholic!Reader) (Kinktober 2023) ⛧ Part 2

Public Sex, (Kinktober 2023) DF (21+)

Lupercalia

Bejewelled

Series

Coming soon...

One shots

Collaring, (Kinktober 2023)

Medical Play, (Kinktober 2023) GN

Threesome or moresome, (+Era 3 Ghouls) (Kinktober 2023) DF (21+)

Thigh Fucking, (Kinktober 2023) PS

Double Penetration In Two Holes, (ft. Cardinal Copia) (Kinktober 2023) A GN

Teratophilia, (Kinktober 2023) DF (21+) PS

Time Travel Prompt (Ko-Fi exclusive drabble)

Outdoor Sex (Ko-Fi exclusive drabble) GN

Series

Hellish Delights ⛧ Masterlist DF (21+)

After a ritual went wrong, you were left to deal with the consequences. Since that fateful night, your moral compass smashed to pieces and you began to feed into your deepest, darkest desires as you continue to come to terms with the traumatic night in question. With the help of two of the people closest to you, you take part in the ultimate sins of the flesh.

Lost in Translation ⛧ Masterlist

As the newly appointed Cardinal Copia struggles with the weight of a looming prophecy, a resilient scholar challenges the narrative, uncovering a conspiracy that reaches beyond the walls of the Ministry. The emergence of a forbidden love ignites a rebellion against a power-hungry Sister, whose thirst for control threatens to reshape the very foundations of the Church. Will the revelation of those schemes lead to liberation or plunge the Ministry into chaos?

One shots

Pegging (Kinktober 2023) GN

Praise Kink, (Kinktober 2023) PS

Olfactophilia, (Kinktober 2023)

Double Penetration In Two Holes, (ft. Papa Emeritus III) (Kinktober 2023) A GN

Free Use, (Kinktober 2023)

Midnight Surveillance DF (21+)

Succin the Ghocc (Ko-fi exclusive drabble)

Tulips and Daisies

Series

Coming soon...

One shots

Dubcon, (Fan roleplay) (Kinktober 2023) DF (21+)

Orgasm Denial (Kinktober 2023)

Deepthroating & Face Sitting (Kinktober 2023) DF (21+)

Mary "Piss Boy" Goore PS

Era 3

Alpha

Series

Coming soon...

One shots