#ah the agony of the two princes

[pethfics]

ESCAFLOWNE WEEK 2021 DAY 4: ROYALTY/THE LOVERS (Parts 1 and 2)

*This fountain is a crucial set piece.

Title: Aston Captives

Summary: 

Dryden Fassa finds an unlikely kindred spirit in the former Strategos of Zaibach as they realize they have both been enchanted by an Aston princess.

Musical Inspiration: 1, 2, 3

Note:

I've had the idea for this fic since at least 2018.  Here is the Dryden and Folken buddy story that grew from a one-shot to a trilogy. Such fun to write though. Dryden is one of my favorite characters because he is such a cool cat and a refreshing contrast against the brash and serious major male characters. He is always fun to write and I think he and Folken would get along swimmingly so it was great to write a scene for them to just hang out and discover what they have in common. This is my favorite piece for this week. I finally get to indulge in my ships and it is glorious.

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (25)

25. A sea of doubt

MASTERLIST

Summary: The final battle approaches 

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, mentions and implied non-con and involuntary imprisonment, birth of a baby and all that comes with it,, fear of miscarrying, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 2.9 k

Notes: uffff HERE IT ISSSS OUR SECOND BABY

Aemond was preparing it all, he found in the small town adjacent to your castle a willing Septon, and your castle had a small chapel where the ceremony could be held.

Like his mother’s favorite child, he was close to the Gods, it meant quite a lot to him for you to be his in their eyes, under the faith of the seven, not under those false, Old Gods like the pagan Cregan Stark

He couldn’t be happier, you were getting heavy with his child, maybe two months shy of giving birth, it had to be soon.

But as he was getting ready to fetch you, having already prepared a dress and jewelry for you… he received an important letter from his men on Harrenhal

They were a week away to be surrounded by the Northerners and the Knights of the Vale, all of them together had come to destroy them. The spies had just spotted the great army marching past the Crossroads Inn

“The greatest army the seven Kingdoms had ever seen”

He only smiled because the bigger the army, the slower they were, and the easier way for him to burnt them all with his Dragon

But he needed to gather his own army , with the Baratheons and the Royal army, it was going to be easy to surround the army between them and Harrenhal, and from there it was going to be an easy defeat.

But he had to postpone the ceremony

His child might be born a bastard

But no matter, his brother will declare him legitimate, and he was going to marry you afterwards anyways. 

He went to say goodbye to you, he found you as he always did, with a sad look on your eyes and a tight line as your lips. 

The only thing you said to him was

“I wish you good fortunes in the wars to come, my prince”, and the only thing he said was to promise you he was going to come back before the baby comes, you didn’t want him to

With that in his mind, he left you in your home once again, climbing into Vhagar’s back, and flying away 

You saw the monstrous dragon flying away from your home and you could only feel relief, your own dragon flying around the cliffs she knew so well, and you prayed to the Old Gods that Aemond would never return again.

Because every breath that you drew was agony, when you think about Rickon, it had been months in which he had been growing without you, and your only wish was to see him again, to take him in your arms and hug him against your chest. Your hand went instinctively to your belly, feeling so conflicted

Was it Cregan’s? or was it Aemond’s?

You couldn’t escape Aemond, you couldn’t escape him taking you, and possibly impregnating you, but, you could escape being married to him.

Aemond had left, and he didn’t marry you before he did 

After that… threat, it felt like threat to you, marrying Aemond, there wasn’t really much you can do to avoid it, he couldn’t make you say the words, he couldn’t make you marry him, but right now, you didn’t feel like you had the strength to fight him, this baby was draining you of your energy constantly

If the Baby was Cregan’s, your due date should arrive very shortly… a few weeks maybe, your belly button had popped out of your belly, which happened right before Rickon was born… 

But your belly wasn’t as big as RIckon’s had been

The uncertainty was killing you. The prospect of your baby having dark hair will give Aemond exactly what he needed to send it back to Winterfell, another child you would not be able to raise as your own. The thought alone made you cry and as a deep ache had settled in your chest, you whined when you felt a pressure in your lower belly

“Ah!”, and then… a strong contraction. 

If it was Aemond’s baby, it was too soon

Too soon

And a crippling fear got a hold on you, thinking you might lose your unborn baby

“No no no, please!”, you cried, “please”, you didn’t think you could survive losing a child, so fat bitter tears fell down your eyes, “not yet, not yet ARGH!”, a contraction wrecked your body again, it was all so sudden

Your screams could be heard so loud in the castle, a maid was by your side in a second

“Your grace”, yes Aemond had insisted you would claim back your title of princess, “what is it?”

“It’s the baby”, you whined, “I think it’s coming!”, and if it was like you were calling it, your water broke, wetting the floor beneath you. You whimpered, more scared than in pain

It happened so quick

A cloud of pain numbed you, as the maid called in the castle’s midwife, who brought in a young assistant, they helped you out of your dress and put on you a soft night shift, they released your hair, and soon it stuck to your forehead with your sweat

They help you to the bed, it all happened so quickly.

“You are doing it great”, the midwife said sweetly

“What if it is too soon?”. you whined, “it’s a little over seven moons”, you explain. She look at you sweetly

“All is going to be fine, your grace”, she reassured you, and you believe her

You had felt your baby kicking all week, so you became certain it was going to be alright.

“AH!”, a strong and painful contraction made you rethink that statement, it was pain, pain all over. 

It was the worst pain you ever felt in your entire life.

With Rickon it all had been sudden, you had never felt anything like it, but it happened rather quickly, you had heard of women who had suffered for hours and hours, but Rickon came quickly and without much fuss

You were lucky

But you felt like your luck was running out

You whined when you saw the faces of the midwives and maids constricting more and more in worried gazed as minutes turned to hours.

It was tortuous, the pain came and went lin waves, hitting you hard like a storm against the rocks

“Push your grace! it’s time!”

And you did, with all your strength, you did, in what it seemed like hours of excruciating pain with no end.

And then… with a last push you expelled your baby from your body

And even though there was an end to the pain… there was nothing else…

Only silence

You stopped crying in relief, to start worrying

The midwife wouldn’t look at you, you trying to raise your head to look over the bloodied sheets but you couldn’t see anything either

“What is happening?”, you cried, “why isn’t he crying?”, they were tense minutes in which the only thing that could be heard was your labored breaths and then…

A cry, your baby’s cry

You cried with relief 

“It’s a healthy baby boy, your grace!”, the midwife said, “a little small, but he is strong as a horse!”, you were so relieved, so relieved to hear that, that you didn’t care when she placed your baby in your arms, and you saw his silver strands on his head.

Another son

You cuddled against your chest, he was crying his little lungs out, but as soon as he felt you, he got quiet, trying to open his eyes

He was so beautiful, still covered in afterbirth, but he was so small 

“Hello little one”, she was right, he was small, very much so, but still, he looked healthy, he had all his toes, all his fingers. You kissed his bloodied forehead, “my baby”, you whispered, “and mine alone”, you whispered

You felt incredibly relieved, he was well, healthy, and that is all that mattered

The maids cleaned your son, cleaned you, the bed, all of it. And let you be with your baby

A million thoughts were going through your mind once the maester came to see you and gave you milk of the poppy to soothe your aching body. You watched your son right next to you, sleeping, and you believed he didn’t look like Aemond nor Cregan, he was only a newborn.

Perhaps you were never going to know

But the white hair… he was small, that truly made you think, doubt, fear

Maybe Aemond was never going to come back to the castle, perhaps he was going to die, and he was going to leave you alone, in your home at least

What then?

If Aemond is not here, would you return to Winterfell? What about your new baby? was he going to be welcomed? Rickon needed you, he needed his mother, he needed you, the North had Sara to lead them until Rickon comes of age, but he was going to need you, but… Was the people of the North going to receive you?

There was so many things in your mind, that you barely heard when a maid entered your room slowly and gently 

“What is it?”, you asked softly

“I need to speak to you, your grace”, she said, she seemed nervous

“Speak”, you encouraged gently, caressing your son’s cheek, you wondered how you were going to name him, Aemond had barely suggested names.

“Your grace, now that the baby is here”, the maid, the oldest one, that had known you since you were a child, approached you, “I need to tell you something”

“What is it?”, you asked, concerned

“Prince Aemond went to fight the Northerner army”, she said, and that truly surprised you, “and the knights of the Vale, but also… Daemon Targaryen''

“Daemon?”, you asked, amazed, “really?”, she nodded enthusiastically. 

“I heard him talking to the maester, the Northerner army gathered, it is one of the greatest the seven kingdoms has ever seen”

Daemon was the only one who could face Aemond and actually have a chance, but his chance will certainly increase if…

You helped him

“Why are you telling me this?”, you asked her

“Queen Rhaenyra sits the iron Throne”, you gasped, “the only Green army left is in Harrenhal, the last stand of the Greens!”, she said

“Rhaenyra sits on the Iron Throne?”, you asked, wanting to cry from happiness

“Yes!”, she said, “and the final battle is going to be fought in Harrenhal!”

You looked at your baby in your arms, it could only take two days for you to be ready again. You could go to Harrenhal, nobody was going to stop you, you could leave your baby here, he was going to be safe… but you doubted, what if Aemond made it, and attacked you? he could kill you… 

And then, your baby, with silver hair, he opened his eyes and revealed a pair of icy blue eyes, gray almost, just like Cregan’s

You gasped.

He truly could be Cregan’s, you had to fight for the Northerners!, you had to help them, you had to help end this madness

Aemond had arriveD before everyone, but thanks to his spies he knew the army was within a two day march away from the castle

He was tempted to go and meet them halfway and burn them all

But his army was halfway as well

It needed to be decisive and a powerful hit to the Black forces.

And after this, he was going to retake the capital and save his mother and sister. His drunk of a brother could be gone for all he cared, he was going to be King next. 

ALL WAS GOING TO BE WELL 

He had the girl, he was going to have a child, he was going to become king, who cared if he had to betray and force his way into it? it is what he deserved

As he grabbed the stones of the battlements of Harrenhal, and looked beyond those lands to the North, he breathed in all the excitement for the battles to come. 

But as soon as the sun set on the very next day, Aemond, with horror, saw the wood surrounding Harrenhal lit up with a hundred thousands of torches. Threatening him,  teasing him, they surrounded the huge fortress completely, there was no way out for him

If he had been only a simple man.

That night Harrenhal, and all the men within didn’t sleep. The Northerners and the Knights of the Vale blew horns and played the drums all night long, to completely destroy the morale of the soldiers within the burnt walls.

And it had worked

Aemond haven't sleep a wink the whole night, he didn’t even attempt to go to bed, he just stood over the battlements until the very first light, were this own soldiers started to prepare

The captains of the small group of soldiers came to him, asking him what they were going to do about the huge army waiting like a hungry wolf to a dying prey in front of it, and yet not doing anything.

Aemond had to win some time, his own army could surround them, press them against the castle, and then they could hit them from above and from inside, and the Baratheons and the royal army led by Criston was going to kill them from the back

Oh if only

As he was organizing the boiling of thousands of gallons of oil that was going to be dropped over the heads of the savages from the North, when Aemond heard a sharp growl that made him tremble, although he was never going to admit it

The biggest army in the world was not alone

His uncle had come for him

“I want her to know I’m here”, said Cregan,a s he looked amongst the trees at the high walls of Harrenhal

“She probably believes you are dead”, muttered Deamon, looking at him, the love he saw in the Stark’s eyes was incredible

“I don’t care, remember what I said, no destruction to the castle, we don’t know where she is…”

“Yes, I know”, he said, almost bored. Daemon put his helmet on, and then walked towards Caraxes, climbing to his saddle, and then he commanded him to fly

And the battle started.

Caraxes flew over Harrenhal teasing Aemond and Vhagar. The greens distributed their efforts in all points of the battlements, following the lead of the Blacks that had surrounded the castle, but now, early in the morning they marched towards the weakest point of the walls, focusing all the efforts in one point of the walls. 

The wall was overrun was the Knights of the Vale siege weaponry pretty easily, half day in and they already where breaching the walls

The battle was brutal

Specially when the Baratheons and the remains of the usurper’s royal army arrived and attacked the forces of the blacks that were yet to enter the castle wall’s

A battle that was going to be told throughout the ages,

The castle was quickly overrun, but every soldier of the black forces waited for Cregan’s command. The Stark had clear instructions that he was to be the one to enter the castle first with his best twenty men. The goal was to find you, and the people inside didn’t suffer the cruelties of war. He wanted to secure you first, before he could let his soldiers take the castle.

But he couldn’t find you anywhere

You weren’t here

He felt a desperation inside his chest.

You knew that monster might hurt you, the way sick men harm women, but he could never guess that he could… actually end your life

No, he couldn’t lose hope, he had survived to find you, you couldn’t be gone. No, he believed Sara’s visions, you had so much to life together, you had to be still of this world.

As he was hastily walking towards a huge window… he heard it.

He ran towards it so he could see outside towards the skies, he would recognize that growling anywhere.

Just as Vhagar and Caraxes intertwined in a mortal embrace to kill each other, another dragon soared the skies, a white, huge dragon 

Vhaelar

Vhagar met Caraxes in the skies, he was quickly to bit his wings, but the blood wyrm turned in the air, scratching the Queen of dragon’s chest and making her release him. That is when Vhaelar appeared from between the skies.

Aemond couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

For a second he believed you had come to his aid, but his idea quickly disappeared when Vhaelar close her huge jawa surrounding VHagar’s neck

Caraxes took the opportunity to burn the old dragon’s body and then bit off one of his huge wings.

You were in the air, fighting with dragons.

Cregan saw with wide eyes as you took the Queen of Dragons off of the skies. Vhaelar released Vhagar, that fell limply to the lake underneath. The water column that formed when VHagar fall into the lake was as tall as the castle, but nobody would ever believe it. 

Your huge she-dragon kept herself on the air with the help of her huge wings, and just as Daemon’s Caraxes was also trying to keep himself in the air, he was hurt, but he was going to be alright in time. 

But under Cregan’s and Daemon’s surprised gaze, you made your dragon turn around in the air, and flied away

Cregan whined, concerned, as fast as you had came, you were leaving Harrenhal without even stepping a foot within its walls

Without the support of a dragon the Green forces were done for.

They were completely alienated, having captured Lord Borros Baratheon, Criston Cole and another important men

But Cregan couldn’t care less about that.

He needed to find you. 

More notes!: So... are you still with doubts? hehehe, so he is small... so he could be Aemond's... and has silver hair, but it has eyes with a similar color as Cregan's... and reader did spend a rough period with Aemond without much eating and drinking... so it could be that... anyways I'm not a doctor JEJEJE

A little messy I felt, but I really wanted to write this, up next we will see the reader's POV and FINALLY THE REUNION

TAGLIST!

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker 

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @​​mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel 

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @​​trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr @ivvypg @mendes-bae @borikenlove @tssf-imagines @praline357 @alitaar @prettykinkysoul @aelora-a @a-mexican-waffle @ateliefloresdaprimavera @alexa40400 @lrboyd @anditsmywholeheart  @weaselyss  @scarlettqueen190 @deeeeexx @cloudroomblog @dreaming-of-the-reality @yentroucnagol @crazymusicgirl104 @toodlesxcuddles @thanyatargaryen

[sumeru-academy]

Bride to be.

synopsis: you catch the bouquet at a wedding.

character(s): jean, eula, mona (seperate).

warning(s): mentions of marriage.

note(s): female reader, reader wears a dress and heels, second POV.

p.s: jean is wearing a suit but I could not write that description in so please use your imagination :(

—mod angel 🎐

JEAN GUNNHILDR

“Are you okay? Do your feet hurt?” 

With Jean’s arms wrapped protectively around yours, the two of you swayed to the romantic, slow-dance waltz together as couples just like you danced in the background of your vision. Sure, your feet ached, your dress was scratching up your thighs, and the people around you were starting to give you a headache but you’ve never felt more alive. Jean’s firm yet warm touch upon your body never ceased to make your heart flutter, and with the close proximity between you too, your heart was practically close to flying off.

“In all honesty, I’m in agony with these heels,” you chuckled, resting your head beneath your lover’s neck. “But, I do like being able to dance with you at eye level. So, I can bear the pain a little while longer.” 

Jean casted a worried look with her eyes and stopped dancing to hold your shoulders. “That’s not good. You might get blisters if you overextend your comfort. Would you like to go home now? I can carry you if you’d like.” She kneeled down on the floor in a princely manner and reached to remove your shoes. “May I? I brought spare flats in case you got tired.”

Of course she did. Jean was never one to be unprepared.

“Hah, you always seem prepared for everything, Jean.” You grinned, moving to go sit down at your designated table. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have you.”

The tips of the Gunnhildr’s ears glowed bright pink as she moved to kneel down in front of you. Carefully removing your heels like they were Cinderella’s glass slippers and placing a kiss just above your knee. “Any pain? Do you feel sore anywhere?”

“Are you gonna give me a massage if I do?” You joked. 

“If you want, I can.” Her face looked dead serious. 

“Ah…Jean, I’m joking.” You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle your laughter. You couldn’t help it, Jean was so cute when she was serious! “I’m fine, but those flats you brought do sound quite nice. Maybe at the next wedding I’ll plan to wear something more convenient next time.”

Jean smiled and slipped on the pair of flats she brought along delicately on your feet. Almost reenacting a whole Cinderella scene with you as she was so gentle and cautious with sliding the piece of footwear on. “Perhaps. But if you ever forget again, I’ll always have an extra pair just in case.”

She looked up at you with those adoring, blue eyes before her attention was taken away from the various cheers and squeals of women. All surrounding the bride of the wedding like some sort of weird formal rave. The bride was positioned at the top of the stage with her back turned to the crowd of cheering women, all eager with their hands in the air as they waited for her to throw the objects in her hands. 

A bouquet. 

“Oh! They’re doing the bouquet toss!” You fawned. “Jean, do you think I…?”

She smiled warmly at your indication and nodded. “Of course, you still qualify for a bachelorette after all.” Though that word left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Go on. I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

You beamed at this response and quickly kissed her cheek before running off, much faster now that you were no longer wearing heels. Jean couldn’t help but smile brightly at how excited you were to partake in such a funny little wedding tradition. I mean, catching a bouquet to indicate who’s next in marriage? It was a silly idea, yet Jean couldn’t help but let her mind take off with the concept in mind.

You married to her.

Jean would be lying if she said she never thought of the idea of marriage. The two of you had been together through thick and thin, dealing with any and every obstacle together as if you shared a single body. She always thought she was destined to lead the nation of Mondstadt alone, but when you came along, she finally realized just how important –and fun– it would be to have someone who loved her in her life. Someone who wanted to share the rest of their life with her. 

And she wanted to spend the rest of hers with them too. 

An erupt of screams snapped her out of her thoughts. The swarm of bachelorettes clearing to make way for the lucky woman in the middle. ‘I can’t see her.’ Jean thought worriedly. ‘Was she trampled by the others? Y/N–!’

Standing up from her seat, Jean froze when she heard your shout. 

“Jean!” You shouted from the crowd, your voice far from distress as it sounded more like happiness. 

“Y/N?” The crowd parted like the Red Sea to show you standing in the middle. The lights from the wedding cascading a heavenly glow in your smile when you turned around. Bouquet of roses in hand. 

“I caught it!” You shouted, a broad smile on your face as your fellow bachelorettes cheered for your win. “I caught it, Jean!”

Indeed you did, but Jean didn’t have it in her to respond. Simply staring at you with the deepest blush ever, as all she could think about was you in a wedding dress, getting married to her and smiling through a thin veil that masked your everlasting beauty. Jean couldn’t talk. She couldn’t fathom. And yet when she sees you jumping around excitedly with the bouquet in hand, a burst of serotonin tells her ‘yes, you can marry this girl. She caught the bouquet to marry you.’ And Jean realizes that she can marry the girl of her dreams, and she will.

‘Even in a dress that isn’t white, you look more like a bride to me than any woman in this room…’

EULA LAWRENCE

Eula never really liked weddings. From all the weddings she was forced to partake in as a child, they were always the same, stuffy, boring weddings that bored her to death and made her loathe such events whenever she were invited to one. Weddings to her were just an excuse for the Lawrence clan to gather up as one big group, and act like assholes once more until Eula couldn’t stand it. It’s come to the point where every time a wedding is even mentioned, Eula would flinch and think back to all the bratty adults she had to listen to while stuck at a table with barely edible food.

Though, this time the wedding she was invited to wasn’t as sufferable as she thought. For one, her clan wouldn’t be related to the event at all, and two, you were there; her loving and doting girlfriend that begged her to go as your date. And how could she not? After all, she did look quite attractive in formal wear. 

But you…you. You were another story. When you came out for Eula to pick you up she was beyond smitten. Barely able to get her words across as you laced your arms with hers and made your way to the carriage so that you could be taken to the wedding venue. Even then, Eula could not get a word out!

But she could now.

“The bride is honestly so beautiful. I think her dress was imported from Fontaine.” You pushed around one of the fancy looking dishes that you were served and turned to Eula for her opinion. “Do you think I could order a dress as good as that? Ah, but the shipping…I’d need to save more mora…”

“You do not need a dress to enhance your beauty.” Eula crossed her arms, almost appearing mad as she furrowed her brows. “Just being with me has always been a treasure.”

A beat of silence passes by and Eula quickly unfolds her arms. “H-However, if you want a dress from Fontaine I will gladly order it for you if you wish.” The higher pitch in her voice gave away her frenzied panic, and you couldn’t help but giggle in response.

“You’re always so sweet to me, Eula. So charming even when you’re being silly.”

“I am not being silly.”

She all but huffed that response like a steam engine about to explode, causing you to burst out into a fit of giggles and prod a tiny smirk onto the bluenette’s face. “Oh Eula, this is why I love you so.”

‘And I love you too.’

A bunch of screaming women cut your moment short as you both turned to see the ravenous swarm of desperate singles reaching to try and catch the bride’s bouquet, as she was standing far off to the side ready to launch the flowers in the air. Who would’ve thought that so many women were desperate to get married in Mondstadt? Apparently here was your answer.

‘Such a foolish tradition.’ Eula thought, frowning at the sight. ‘Letting a mere bouquet of flowers decide when you get married? How odd.’

“Ah, the bouquet toss!” You exclaimed joyfully, “I’ll be back my love, I want to join in on the festivities too!”

You ran off to join the crowd of desperate women and Eula couldn’t help but be surprised by your actions. Were you really going to engage in such an activity? Eula couldn’t help but be curious. 

You stood yourself in the far back and put your hands up adorably as you weren’t as ravenous as the other singles in the crowd. The other women fighting for their spot to shine, while you bounced on your heels for some extra height in order to strengthen your chances. Ouch, that was cute. Eula glanced at the wall to hide the overbearing smile stretching over her face. Too much for the knight to take. 

“It’s mine!” Several women called out. The bouquet bouncing along aggressive hands before making its way to the back and landing right into your hands. Holy Barbatos you did not expect that.  

“Woah—!” You stumbled with the bouquet for a second before holding it firmly in your arms. “I…I caught it! Eula, look! It landed!”

She turned to the sounds of your cheering and audibly gasped when she saw you running over with the bouquet in hand. Leaving a trail of sad, single women to disperse as you came home as the lucky champion of the evening. “It just crowd-surfed and landed in my hands! Isn’t that interesting? It’s almost like it’s fate!” 

Fate.

Eula stared at how excited you were to win such a tradition and watched as you plucked a flower from the bunch and held it out to her. “For my lady,” you joked in an over dramatic voice, bowing like a dame and presenting the rose as a gesture of romance. 

“All that for a flower,” Eula scoffed, though she took the flower from your hands and twirled it, a small smile reaching her lips. “Thank you, I will treasure it.” 

“Of course, it’s extra special since it’s from a bouquet I caught. Maybe it’s destined for us to get married next, hm?”

Although a playful little jab at the bluenette, Eula couldn’t help but wonder if the destiny was real. The way the bouquet bounced off the other hands and just landed in your arms was a bit odd in her eyes. Maybe it was just the fate of destiny that brought the bouquet to you. Who knows, perhaps Barbatos had blessed the winds to carry the bouquet towards you, gifting you with the reward of changing fate tonight. 

Eula’s cheeks flushed. But what would mean you and Eula would be getting married next! Marriage! As in wife and wife, officially together in legal documents and last names!

She turned to you and saw you playing idly with the roses plucked straight from the bouquet. Twirling the thorn-stripped stem in your hand before pinning the ornament behind your ear. ‘Beautiful.’ Eula thought. And for a second she forgot all her worries and wondered if a dress could enhance your beauty even more. A wedding dress.

‘Perhaps weddings aren’t too bad. As long as it’s a wedding between you and I.’

MONA MEGISTUS

Let’s be honest, Mona really only agreed to attend the wedding simply because she got to eat free fancy food. That, and it was also an excuse to have a free fancy dinner date with you, something she unfortunately bashes herself over as she’s not able to treat you to the fanciest places all the time. 

As snootish as Mona can be, she really beats herself up over not being the perfect girlfriend for you all the time. Sitting here with you at an expensive wedding with couples in their fancy clothes made her realize just how pathetic she really was when in comparison to the bride and groom. The fact that they could afford all of this, all the food, the decorations, the people, and look so content with themselves just made Mona feel as if she could never live up to those standards. I mean, how could you even love her when she couldn’t even afford basic roses? She couldn’t even treat you right, let alone love you properly.

Why do you even stay with her?

“Is something on your mind, my love?” You murmured out of concern.

“Hm? Oh, I was just marveling at the taste of this salad. The dressing is nothing like I’ve ever tasted.” You chuckled over her enthusiasm for salad. Mona always seemed to be some sort of salad connoisseur whenever you’d go out to eat, and her love for such a simple palette made her all the more cuter. “Is it really that good? I thought I made a pretty good salad at home.”

Mona rolled her eyes playfully and stabbed a piece of tomato. “Your salad is…on par. That is a compliment considering this was made by a professional chef.”

You feigned a look of hurt before giggling and going back to your meal. The loud sounds of songs and people dancing drowning out as all Mona could listen to was the sound of you enjoying yourself. You seemed so content, so at ease, and all Mona could think about was how to afford all of this if she wished to spend her future with you. 

And she really, really did.

“You keep staring at me with those wide, unblinking eyes.” You scrunched up your shoulders at the sight. “It’s creepy.”

“What? Am I not allowed to stare at my own girlfriend?” Mona scoffed dramatically. “I really thought loving you meant I could admire you for as much as I pleased. Can I not?”

“It’s just weird, you’ve never been so laser-focused on my face before.” You bashfully laughed. “Are you really okay? You seem so out of it this evening.”

“Of course I’m okay. I just like watching you.”

“That’s so creepy taken out of context.”

“I’m not creepy!”

Mona swatted at your arm and you couldn’t help but stifle your laughter as she tried so hard to defend her honor. Her cheeks mirroring that of a hamster’s as they puffed up like tiny balloons out of frustration. “Honestly, what did I even see in you back then? The stars are truly strange for pairing me up with you as my soulmate.”

“Sure, blame the stars for falling head over heels for me. Klee told me about how you’d pray to the stars every night that I was single.”

“I– buh– KLEE–!”

“Hah…Don’t be too hard on the girl, Mona. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have had the courage to confess to you.” You took note of the pink starting to glow on the astrologist’s ears. For someone so “high and mighty” as she so often claimed, she really couldn’t hide her own embarrassment well. “Come on, let’s lighten up a bit, Mona. We’re at a wedding, let’s go enjoy ourselves.” 

“...I suppose you’re right, darling.” Mona huffed. “Now, I believe I owe you a slow dance for–”

Suddenly a bouquet slammed itself into your head and landed right on top of your lap. The both of you shrieking like little girls as you had no idea what just happened until you fully registered what you were hit with.

“AAAAAAA wait wait–! Mona, stop screaming! It’s just the bride’s bouquet! Mona I’m okay don’t scream–!”

You lifted the bouquet of pink up to your face to show Mona and smiled charmingly with a facefull of flowers. “It’s just the bouquet Mona! Somehow I managed to catch it!” Mona was still shell-shocked to fully register that you were okay. “I caught it! I caught the bouquet with my face and I didn’t even try!”

Ignoring the depressed wails of the unlucky women who weren’t as lucky as you, you got out of your chair and went over to hug Mona, who was now finally starting to wake up from her daze. 

“Mona, do you know what this means?!”

“Huh? What–?”

“We can get married next!”

MARRIED?!

You squeezed Mona so hard she swears she saw the stars on the ceiling. Yet despite the bone-crushing hug you gave her all she could think about was that you caught the bouquet, and in Mondstadt traditions that meant that you were next in line to get married next. You while you were dating her.

‘Married? Y/N wants to get married next? With me? Why?!’ If Mona’s eyes could spin they would. Too overloaded with information to comprehend the thought. 

“How wonderful this is, it seems like we were blessed with fate huh?” You joked. Though, when it came to fate, Mona never joked around. “I can’t wait to potentially spend the rest of my life with you…”

The astrologist tensed up at your words before softening in your hold. You quickly kiss her forehead before running off to show your lucky surprise to your friends, leaving your girlfriend standing by your table in both shock and dumbstruck love for you. ‘She really wants to spend the rest of her life with me…’ Mona pondered, heart beating against her ribcage as she grasped the edge of the table for stability. “Hah, I was worried for nothing…”

She looked over at you flaunting your accidental bouquet catch to various guests and smiled as you seemed so happy with the implications of having such a lucky catch. The astrologist sitting back at your table and watching you quietly from afar just as she did back when she pined for you all those years ago.

‘I suppose I don’t need an expensive wedding to make you happy. Just us being there makes it worth a whole fortune.’

[anyseany]

Pineapple - Bangchan

Eng is not my frist language

Genre: fluff, established relationship.

Synopsis: Chan loves pineapple juice, but you're allergic, he accidentally kisses you.

You were cooking, back and forth in the kitchen, since the boys came to spend the day at your house, chan had helped you at the first time, but he was busy with some songs that the manager was charging him for the next day so he partially helped you in what he could, at that very moment he was on the kitchen counter, with his headphones on, his famous notebook open working on the new album, with his vision in the background, you were probably singing some music while cooking.

He interspersed the attention while drinking his pineapple juice filled with ice, since the day was more than hot, and even more because of the warmth of the room.

Your little clothes and agitated movement constantly made Bang look away from you, but he didn't feel uncomfortable and thought it was absurd to leave you alone at that moment." Babe, taste this. " You put some of the food on a small plate, and he promptly tasted it, not having a reaction other than raising his thumb happy with the taste of the food, you were great at what you did.

"Great love, give me some more." He asked, holding out the plate, but you crossed your arms and glared at him."No, why don't the prince eat later." You spoke and he pretended to be sad, leaving the computer for a bit and going to hug you.

"It's no use."

"Not even if I shower you with kisses?" He started with your neck, going up to your face, his laughter sounded through the kitchen, his arms wrapped around your body and leaving you with more heat than before was extremely tasty. "Chan, stop!" You didn't really want him to stop, but the soft lips tickled and the agony was inevitable."My kiss first." He said turning his body and taking her lips for real, pulling her waist against his strong body, their tongues danced and understood each other like never before, releasing the feeling of peace in both of them.

"Now leave me." You broke free hearing him chuckle and go back to work.It was about ten minutes, you scratched here, scratched there, strangely your tongue itched, but it was light so that's okay.

Hours later, while you chose a dress with just a bra and panties, chan was already wearing her clothes, but stopped to quickly appreciate you from the back."Love, what are those spots on your thigh?" You were surprised by the question and then looked for the stain, and found more on the inside of your arms, and on your back.

"Y/n, this sounds serious." Chan walked over to you with a serious tone, and touched the heavily reddened spots.

" I don't remember eating or smelling anything..." you stopped for half a second to think. " Ah! Pineapple. " chan frowned " You drank pineapple juice, and kissed me! I'm allergic to pineapple. " He automatically turned into an excuse machine. " love calm down-

" I could have i killed you y/n, for god's sake!" You laughed out loud at the bigger one. "Hospital, now!"

"Chan, I'm not going to the hospital." Going out walking around the room finding your bag, you grabbed a mini necesser, taking out a pack of medicine, swallowing two quickly. "In ten minutes I'll be fine."

"Why didn't you ever tell me you were allergic to pineapple?" Chan crossed his arms, still pale from the fright.

"I don't know, it was never important until now." Chan was angry at how careless you were.

"Any more allergies I need to know about?" he asked seriously making you laugh.

" Pineapple, and just dust, love. " You said hugging the big guy who continued sulking, but more relieved to know that you were safe.

[chaosprinceundivided]

The Layers of Godhood

Jaz'mahnn was silent a moment. He had stepped into a grove that cut between reality and the Realms of Chaos beyond. A few of his ignorant followers did not have the animal instinct and when they stepped at his heel, they were suddenly fine mists of gore that rippled from deep crimson to soft pink and purples. Their former existence turning into a perfume that made the rest of the mortals gasp, swoon and stink of intrigued fear.

The daemon slowly turned. He was not in the elven forest anymore. He was in the infinity of space. The canvas of the gods' boundlessness but whic-

"Ah."

A voice spoke from the beyond and within perception. Jaz'mahnn's ears perked and he swept in a graceful bow. His eyes casted to the unseen floor, he could hear the swishes of great tails swaying. The slow, bone-tapping, clicks of claws delicately moving. Something - Someone - loomed just at the edge of the swallowing darkness, outlined by the trillions of distant stars and celestial bodies. They swirled and shaped with two great eyes that mirrored the great howling maelstorm of terror incarnate. The swallowing scar of an primodial empire long devoured by a newborn god.

"Silverspine, what are you doing here?" The voice, a gentle conqueror's purr married with a underlying widow's knife-keen hiss, questioned in curiosity.

"Forgive me, My Most Beautiful of Orators. I seemed to have stepped within your talon's carving. Within the Elfish Forest of Laurelorn." The Exalted Keeper noted. There was a moment as One of Slaanesh's Favoured seemed to percieve the words spoken and place given. The Fox-King was here, but not. This was a yawning expression that happened to rest, a waiting threat within the forest elves' realm.

A constant beacon of temptation that corrupted in the most subtle ways, stoking the elves' already sinful pride into ways that brought a constant animosity to races that could have been their allies a long time ago. How it unintentionally fed the Fox, and the Dark Prince through him.

Finally, there was a tittering giggle of a child. Then it turned into a dark ripple that made the stars wink celestial tears. A great tongue, flickering of nine flayed scars with crystalline worlds swirling with the soulstuff of trillions of little victims to forever entertain their devourer till their senses of self were no more. This greater expression of their deprived divine spoke,

"I shall not take it, for there is none to apologize. You come onto me by mere accident and fortune favours thee. For I am aspiration manifest. Grant me the souls of the Lady's Favoured. Bring them onto me screaming and kicking. Fill my nostrils with burning wood that had lived since the cry of the first man. Allure my ears with the agonies of elves thought eternal, my Disciple."

The Fox purred and stars died.

"As you desire, Honoured Six."

"It is what They desire, can you sense them?" The Fox slowly reared and upon the brow of the cosmo, a great visage loomed with a mother's smile. And they felt the most blissful pain and agonizing love that sent Jaz'mahnn spiralling back into the Realm of Mortals. When they returned, the physical form they wore twitched with the taste of ichor drippling from their nostrils, and his hands wet with gore. Around them, some of their soft-skinned herd was brutalized so beautifully. Tethers of flesh hanging off clawtips. Intestines drapping from branches already turning into carapace. Trees forming moaning faces. The remaining marauders bowed low, praying at his feet with their shamans praising him for the vision provided. Even as they mutated from the beauty of Slaanesh.

The General looked at one of them and pointed. Through them, Slaanesh gave an abundance of power to the shaman. The shape of a feeble man growing, twisting and lengthening with a howl of agony and power.

Lourelorn shall burn, so decreed the Prince of Princes.

[clavissionary-position]

Chevalier x Reader, For Whom We Endure

tags: fluff, mentions of stomach pain updated july 24, 2023

◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌

He calls your name in the twilit garden and it cuts clear across the calm of one thousand roses, here in this sanctuary of your shared silence and, today, your quiet agony.

Without a thought you sneak one lungful of rosy air through your nose and hold your breath. Your book shuts with a soft snick and your best smile weaves across your dry lips. You look to your lover and pinch off three calculated words. Two words. Two words and one gift. "Yes, Prince Chevalier?"

Eyes like a frozen lake, and you plunge and suddenly thoughts rush your mind. Palpating. Like birds on a shore, like wings in the sky. Beating. Soaring. That surreal feeling of being here and of seeing yourself being here. The garden, the garden bench, two people and Chevalier's blue eyes. The breath he steals from you without so much as a smile or a kiss. All because your eyes meet. But if you're honest, it started when he said your name.

This moment could easily fall between a prince and his subject, a knight and his charge, a beautiful creature and his admirer. A beast and his prey. This moment, instead, is Chevalier's arm around your shoulder, his own book falling shut in your hazy periphery, and the gaze that won't let you go.

A breeze dances past and lifts the ends of his bangs, bouncing them between his cheek and fur collar. A single rose petal lands on your forearm and takes off with the next updraft. If you hold your breath for any longer, you’ll pass out.

Ah, but at least your stomach-pain doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

Chevalier lets out a sigh before setting his book down on the other side of the bench. "I thought I'd give you time to tell me of your own accord, but clearly I continue to underestimate your stubbornness."

Your smile drops as you deflate. "You noticed?" You feel quite the simpleton for even asking.

Twilight mixes in with the roses in the garden. As beautiful as the sight is, as beautiful as the man embedded within it is, you’re unable to fully enjoy any of it in your present state. 

Chevalier's stare is less than forgiving.

"Irregular breathing, constant deglutition—gulping—protracted squirming. Either I've courted an actual fish out of water, or you've had the privilege of eating something suspect." He jabs your forehead before you can get a word in. "I do not know for whom you're enduring, but it goes without saying that your behavior is childish."

You release your breath as another wave of nausea rocks through you. Your head throbs, and not just where he's poked you. "I didn't want to—"

"There are 365 days in a year."

You frown. "...?"

Chevalier's expression remains blank for a moment before he betrays the faintest smile. "You and I are not so busy that a date cannot be rescheduled."

Says the man you’ve scarcely seen since construction of the embassy began.

"You are that busy though—” 

“Subjective.” 

Your headache mounts. "Our last date was—"

"Three months, two weeks and four days ago."

"Are you going to let me—"

"No."

"Prince Che—"

"I believe I already told you. I gave you ample time to speak, and you voluntarily chose to not take advantage of it."

You are going to hurl any moment now, and a tiny part of you considers—

"I assure you, that would be a terrible idea."

"Prince Chevalier!" You finally scream. Your voice echoes off the quarried stones. The words rush out of you before you can stop yourself. "I feel horrible right now. I feel absolutely terrible, in-fact. I just wanted to be considerate of your time because I know exactly how busy you are. Because even if I do feel like rolling off this bench and vomiting into the flowerbeds, I'm still having a lot of fun just being here with my sadistic—" This time you cut yourself off.

Chevalier's smiling.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that.”

"Then you would not have said it.” But there's not a hint of anger in Chevalier’s voice. He almost sounds affectionate. "Only a simpleton could think"—He reaches out to gruffly brush hair from your face. His shapely lips quirk into a small but gentle smile—"that I would not make time."

Suddenly your face is against his back as he casts you over his shoulder and begins marching back toward the palace. 

“Um…?”

“I have two more books I wish to get through tonight.”

His true meaning makes you clench your eyes shut with embarrassment, but that’s when you feel it. The hand stroking your back, almost as if you were a child. The pacing follows no rhythm and hits all the wrong notes. It’s stiff and it’s unsure. It’s quite possibly the one thing you needed the most. 

--- Thank you for reading! inspiration: Awkward Kisses + A Crown For Your King + a zillion other things by aquagirl1978 image credit

[skxrbrand]

Concurrent | The Border Princes

Va'rrick sneezed, the irritation and pressure building in his throat and lungs too much to bear any longer. Black foulness sprayed from his nostrils, dripping beneath his overlarge fangs despite his efforts to cage it all. Blood. Diseased blood. And this was no phage of the Poxfather, but something altogether more.....poisonous.

The leonine Bloodthirster wiped at his snout with the back of his hand and then cast his gaze over to his blood host. Many were afflicted with the same malignancy as he himself, ugly black marks scored into red bodes by teeth and claw and horn. It had been the Whiteblack beasts of Malal, commanded by the quilled she-daemon who had crossed blades with him a few sunrises ago. They had died and taken few of the Bloodkin with them, but victory, as Va'rrick was learning, hadn't been the point of their ambushes.

It was meant to slow their inexorable march. To dim the fires of their hatred and curdled their hunger for glory. And it indeed, his host was flagging ever so noticeably, as the black blood sickness made ever mile agony. At the last, they had made came, and Va'rrick had raged. He had crippled his lieutenants, killed some of them, and when at last he had fallen into a simmer, he sat apart from the rest of the milling horde and he had brooded.

"Damn wench." He cursed, wincing and fishing another quill out of his maw. Like the Red Sage, finding them was proving to be a pain in the flank. Va'rrick growled, hating the Malalian Daemon, hating the quills that swelled his mouth, hating how afflicted his horde was, hating, hating, hating--

" Great Son of Khorne."

The Bloodthirster whipped around, nearly setting whoever was so bold to interrupt his ruminating on fire. Before him was a Beastman, dressed in flayed skins and bearing twisted, mismatched horns of iron. One eyes was hell red, glittering with malice and the other was a shining brass. He was a diminutive thing, with tawny fur and a coppery reek, flanked by two of the Bloodreapers who had survived Va'rrick's tantrum.

A shaman of Khorne, respectfully down on one knee, speaking to him in the daemon-tongue.

" What is it mortal?" Va'rrick's patience, already tenuous, was short. " Speak."

" I bring portents from our master." The odd-eyed Beastmen said quickly. The Bloodthirster flicked an ear, suddenly cautious. " He sends more warriors for the hunt. To find the Red Sage; it is imperative she is found."

Va'rrick felt his blood boil. Did Khorne not think he alone was enough? He raked an angry line in the dirt with his talons, but did not voice the thought lest his father be listening and smite him for it. The Beastmen continued.

" The Gorequeen flies on the wing. She and another Greater Daemon."

" The Gorequeen?" That was a surprise. A welcome one, considering what was said to lurk in Myrmidens. Ah, but if Valkia was coming, then Khorne's eye would surely be upon all of them. And no one could afford to be found lacking in the Blood God's gaze, especially not him.

" Very well. If that is all-- leave me. Or, join the pile of skulls." He motioned to the great horde of skulls and bones that was at least as tall as the Bloodthirster himself. " I care not."

[xxmixhi]

The raging war in the Wizarding world hadn't been kind and deep within the castle's corridors Headmaster Snape and a beloved professor that he called his wife sat together; watching the stars twinkle. Seemingly giving their last show. A cold bony hand had been placed atop a gentle and soft warm one, their wedding bands gleaming together under the moonlight.

"Severus.." Came the soft voice of the woman beside him capturing his attention and thoughts just as they always had. "Yes?" He asked in response turning to face her, his hand leaving hers for what he thought would be a brief moment. There was a second of hesitation in the woman's voice, perhaps a millisecond of a pause. It was uncommon and obscure. The gentle hand that had been resting underneath the potion master's was now placed carefully on his cheek. A usual sign of comfort between the two. A deep sigh of relief had passed the man's lips, nearly unnoticeable had it not been for the dead silence of the hallway that surrounded them. The hesitation had turned ice cold. The warmth that those eyes held that the Headmaster adored so much was no more.

"I know what you did." The woman seethed. The gears in the man's mind seem to come to a stop. The accusation didn't seem to register quick enough as even when she was angry, Severus still was enraptured by his wife's beauty and pure elegance that she carried herself with. "You are not the man I married. There's something different, something evil that I don't recognize." Her words dug in, they scratched and cut with the malice that poisoned them. Severus could feel his head begin to spin, his muscles ached and his hands felt like he had grabbed a fistful of beautifully sprouted nettles. Yet, he never took his face from her hand, leaning his cheek into the palm of her hand more. Hoping and praying that it would shield him from the hurtful words that were leaving her plush lips.

"I hate you." Ah, there it was. Severus's lips trembled and his hands shook, tears welled in the man's eyes as he attempted to find the strength in him to look his beloved in her own. "i know.." he whispered in return. Severus felt the warmth on his cheek leave, the sound of her heels clicking against the hall made his ears ring. The man slowly sank to the floor, accepting his defeat. He never wanted this but looking at the wedding band, much smaller than his own he had no way out but to acknowledge, the many mistakes he had made. The mistakes that he could no longer run from as they had taken the only light he had in this dark hellscape of a castle many people called home. Tears dripped on to the band as he stared at it for what seemed like ages. The pit in his stomach only worsened and now everything that he had eaten threatened to come up without a moments notice. All the rage, spite and calculation no longer held their place in his mind and soul.

Only pure loneliness, agony and helplessness were to be seen in the man's eyes as he cast them to the sky. Desperate to see his wishing star, in one last effort to fix all that he had done. He had caught a glimpse of it, it was to the far north, just as it always had been but before the wish could leave his lips; the star went out. Severus' heart shattered into millions of inconsolable pieces. Hysterical black eyes scanned the sky, searching, scanning for another brighter than most star. An impossible task now that hot tears burned his eyes and blinded his vision.

Heartwreching sobs left the Headmaster as he practically lay crumpled on the floor. No one would see him like this, no one would even know his pain existed in this moment. His body trembled and violently shook yet he held that diamond ring close to his chest crying out for its owner to come back for him.

The half-blood prince was finally reunited with the ever lurking feeling of despair. An emotion he thought he had cast out for good so many years ago. Yet, as his wife had told him, the universe always seems to remind you of something you've forgotten.

[purplesong1028]

Of Men and Games

Chapter 3: Gun Control (!NSFW)

Warning: Gun Play, Explicit Smut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Pacho/Male OC

Words: 4,753

Fernando was a high school junior when he first made out with a boy. It was never some ground-shattering realization with Gabriel; in fact, it was a very gradual, natural development, almost cliché. They were two confused, horny teenagers in an all boy high school. At some point, without realizing, their friendly hugs simply started to become tighter, more intimate, and it didn’t take much longer for a series of events to happen after that. It was a sin, he knew. It was wrong and forbidden, and it’d be a complete disaster if they were caught, but that didn’t stop him. On the contrary, it only fueled his desire, to the point of being irresistible.

They did everything they could at school, whatever they could get away with: dirty jokes, playful slaps, stolen kisses in the bathroom… It was fun and exciting, but at the end of the day those games didn’t count. They were just meaningless foreplay without crossing the final line and getting into the real business. Hence, when his father was away on a long business trip, he and Gabriel, as fucking stupid as they were back then, didn’t waste any time locking themselves in his bedroom.

They seriously thought it was a good plan. His house was big enough that his mom would not hear anything from her floor unless they screamed. The maids wouldn’t come anywhere near if he told them they were working on an important project. Lorena was five years old and literally didn’t know anything.

Yeah, back then they were really naive enough to believe that plan was perfect, and not surprisingly, they were almost completely naked when someone started banging on the door.

“Fernando! What are you doing in there? Come out! Papa’s home early!”

Lorena’s happy childish scream never sounded so mortifying. His hand was on Gabriel’s penis at the time, and he squeezed it so hard that his poor friend screamed in agony.

“Fernando? What are you doing? Are you hurt?”

“No! No, we’re ok!” He screamed back, hurrying to grab his pants from the floor. “I dropped something on my foot. You said dad’s home?!”

“Yeah, papa came back early! I’m so happy!!” She banged on the door again. It didn’t even carry that much force— she was a five year old girl, but back then Fernando was genuinely worried that she could break the door down.

He glanced over at Gabriel, who was struggling to button up his shirt and looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Ah ok! You go to papa first, yeah?” He tried to keep calm, he had to. “We’re just finishing up some homework, will be there in a minute!”

“Okay.” Lorena sounded a bit disappointed, but listened to him regardless. Fernando slowly let out a sigh, walking to the mirror to finish putting his clothes back on.

“You said your father was away!” Gabriel whispered, but the tone definitely sounded like a scream.

“Well you heard her! He came back early!” Fernando took a look at him. “For God’s sake, you skipped a button!”

“Ah fuck!”

“Papa!!” Lorena’s scream pierced through the thick wall again, this time along with a man’s familiar voice.

“¡Aquí estás, mi princesa!”

Another happy scream, more laughter. His father must have just picked Lorena up, kissing all over her little soft face. He vaguely remembered receiving the same treatment when he was little, but still it felt different. Lorena was their cute princess, but he was the crown prince who needed to rule the kingdom one day.

He took one last look in the mirror, making sure both he and Gabriel looked impeccable. They gave each other a silent nod, and then opened the door.

“Papa!” Fernando walked over to hug his father. “You’re home early?”

“You don’t sound so happy!” A big hand pats him on the back, ruffling his hair. “Getting tired of your old man? Huh?”

“Marco, mi amor.” His mom walked in, wearing a flowy skirt and meticulous makeup, like she just came back from an afternoon tea party, although she didn’t even leave home today. He kissed her on the cheek, and it would probably have been on the lips, if they didn’t see Gabriel standing right there.

“Ah, sorry, where are my manners?” Marco offered his hand. “I assume you’re Fernando’s friend?”

“Ah yeah, Gabriel.” They shook hands, and Gabriel still looked a little nervous. “Nice to meet you, Señor and Señora Gómez. Thank you for having me here.”

“Por favor, the pleasure is ours.” Marco laughed it off. “Come, have some coffee and snacks with us. You must be hungry.”

Everyone started walking downstairs to the dining room, and Fernando took the chance to trail behind, exchanging some quiet mutual understanding with Gabriel: they were off the hook this time.

However, they did suffer some other consequences. To put it simply, the accident spooked them so much that whenever they tried to make out again, they couldn’t stay hard for long. Considering they were both sixteen year old boys at the time, that was fucking unbelievable.

“I told you, my parents are not even in Colombia!” Gabriel sat on his bed shirtless, belt open. “I literally called them this morning, ok? They’re still on a beach in Panama. It won’t be like last time at your place!”

“I know, I know!” Fernando ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, ok? But I can’t get it out of my head. I know this is your bedroom, but I can just see my father walking in that door!”

“Alright.” Gabriel shrugged, zipping his pants back up. “Honestly? Wasn’t that hot for me either, just trying to get it over with.”

“Ugh, damn it…” He let out a long sigh and fell back into the king-sized bed. “Have we ruined it?”

“I sure hope not. We haven’t even done it yet.”

They were lying side by side, and Fernando turned to silently study Gabriel’s face: tanned skin, long eyelashes, beautiful bone structure from nose bridge to cheekbones…If he leaned in a little bit closer, their lips would touch again. “Have you done it with a girl?”

“Not really. I kissed Gloria once and that’s about it.”

“Gloria? Gloria Flores that goes to Santa Maria?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit!” He slapped hard on Gabriel’s shoulder. “What’re you even doing with me?”

Gabriel shoved him. “Shut up, asshole.”

“Wait, was that…was that how you found out?! You kissed Gloria, and felt nothing?!”

Gabriel was silent, and Fernando bursted out laughing, burying his face into a pillow.

“I said shut up!” Gabriel grabbed his arm and tickled him hard, precisely between two ribs, the weakest spot on his entire body. He screamed and fought back, wrestling Gabriel into the soft mattress, trying to grab both of his wrists but failed. It was very difficult to gain an upper hand. They were so similar: height, weight, eye color, hobbies, and everything else. Everything that mattered.

They eventually stopped, both out of breath from laughing for several minutes straight and all the wrestling.

“So?” Gabriel reached out to cover his hand, still sounded out of breath. “What do you want to do?”

“I think…” Fernando stretched one arm up like he was reaching for the ceiling. “I think that we need to think outside of the box, or the bedroom, for that matter.”

Gabriel sat up almost immediately. “I don’t think I like where this is going.”

“Oh trust me, you will.”

*

A week later, they each told their parents that they were going to take a day trip hiking in the mountains. They even invited their fathers to come along, knowing that neither could actually make it because of business meetings.

They didn’t drive to the well-maintained hiking trail, but to a rather remote area deep in the forest, right next to a little creek. Thinking back, they were fucking lucky that they weren’t kidnapped by guerillas or eaten by wild animals.

“You wanna get out of the car?” Fernando leaned in from the passenger seat, sliding a hand up Gabriel’s thigh. He tried to do that a few times on the way here, but Gabriel told him to stop if he didn’t want to crash and die.

“Out? Where, in the river? On the tree?!” Gabriel stared at him as if he’d gone mad, the exact same look he received when he first proposed this idea. “No, Fernando, I’m absolutely not getting out.”

Fernando laughed, slowly moving his hand up to the belt buckle, massaging the bulge underneath. “That’s alright, we can stay in.”

Gabriel stopped the engine and turned to him.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Fernando smiled and leaned his head down.

*

“What are you waiting for?”

Pacho’s voice echoes in his ears, the gun barrel feels cold against his chin, but it burns his skin, sending heat throughout his body, from neck to stomach, and further down. He swallows, and reaches for Pacho’s belt.

“No. I didn’t say you could touch me.”

Part of him wants to ignore the command and keep going, just to see what would happen. Would Pacho threaten him more? Twist his arm away? Switch off the safety?

Fernando decides to stop as he’s told; that’s not a game to play on the first try. They’ll get there another day.

“As you wish.” He says sweetly as he takes off his own jacket, slowly unbuttoning the white shirt underneath. “You can touch me.”

He follows Pacho’s gaze on his own body: neck, collarbones, chest… He smirks, subtly leaning more into the gun. It hurts his chin a little. It feels good.

Pacho doesn’t need another hint. The gun travels down, through the beating pulse on the side of his neck, pressing hard onto a nipple, down the side of his ribs, then belly button…

Fernando looks up, meeting Pacho’s brown eyes, now lit up with dangerously heated desire. “One day, you’ll get into big trouble with that attitude.”

Fernando opens his mouth, and the sentence comes out like a moan. “A price to pay for having big things.”

He didn’t realize what he just said until he heard it. They fall into an awkward silence for a few seconds, and then Pacho’s first one to snort. He follows right after, unable to hold back his own laughter.

Pacho shakes his head and tosses the gun on the couch. “I can’t tell if you’re great at this, or terrible.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” Fernando admits honestly. “I just kept saying things I didn’t mean tonight.”

“Well, that can’t be good.”

“Maybe you make me a little nervous,” He leans back into the couch, staring at Pacho from the side. He’s dealt with enough people to know when to show strength and when to show weakness. “I just didn’t realize it.”

“Because of the gun?”

“No! That’s the best part.”

“Really?” Pacho lets out a chuckle. “Then what?”

“Maybe just like you said, I usually don’t deal with people like you.” He shifts closer, bringing his hand back to Pacho’s belt. This time he isn’t stopped. “But I’ll get used to it.”

“You better get used to it soon.” Pacho runs a hand across his bare chest, pinching a nipple. “Things move very fast in this game, as you call it.”

“I’ll catch up.” He smiles against Pacho’s lips, closing his eyes. Their second kiss is just as exciting and unpredictable as the first one. He’s still not sure when to lick and when to bite, but one thing he does know is Pacho likes that, so that’s good enough to make him not hold back, knowing that it’s okay to make mistakes.

“You learn fast.” Pacho brings the kiss to his cheek and neck, pushing him backwards into the couch. He shrugs off his open shirt, letting his bare back touch the cool leather.

*

The weight shifts on the cushions, so the gun rolls off and falls on the carpet. Fernando stares up at Pacho with the most innocent look he can manage, while tentatively reaching for it.

Pacho tilts his head, not looking a bit concerned. “You know how to use it?”

Fernando picks it up, feeling the weight in his palm. “I’ve been hunting since I was sixteen.”

Pacho smiles down at him like he just told a harmless joke. “How impressive. Ever used it on a person?”

He laughs out. “No, of course not.”

“Ever learned how to take it from someone else?” Pacho pushes a knee between his legs, pressing on his half hard desire. He sighs contentedly, and that brief moment of distraction is enough for Pacho to reach down, twist his wrist into such a strange angle that for a moment, he’s really scared that it would break.

He lets out a surprised yelp, tightly clutching his sore wrist with his left hand. The sharp pain soon fades, and everything seems to be pretty much intact. He looks back up, and the gun securely lies in Pacho’s hand, pointing at his stomach.

Pacho smirks. “That’s how.”

“Alright, lesson learned.” He massages his wrist, relaxing the muscles. “That was a bit harsh, don’t you think? I wasn’t even pointing it at you.”

“Here’s another lesson.” Pacho grabs his right hand and pins it above his head. “It will be too late when the gun’s pointed at you. Remember that.”

Fernando doesn’t bother to struggle under the hold, knowing that at this point it’d be useless, so he gently brings his left hand to Pacho’s shoulder, like asking nicely for a hug.

“When was the first time you used it?” He thrusts his hips up, feeling the bulge under Pacho’s silk pants. “On a human.”

Pacho meets his rhythm effortlessly, rocking back and forth. “Eighteen.”

Fernando wraps his arm around Pacho’s neck, bringing him down until their foreheads meet. “What was it like?”

“Not something you would enjoy.”

“But you do?”

Pacho slightly loosens the grip on his wrist, but gives his hip a particularly hard thrust. “Depends on the person.”

Fernando moans as pleasure blooms out, sending chills up his body. He grabs Pacho’s silk shirt, twisting it tightly.

“Take it off?”

Pacho bites him on the lips. “Go ahead. No one’s stopping you.”

*

It’s not easy to undress Pacho with only his left hand, especially when the other man’s relentlessly teasing him in every way possible. The barrel of the gun has been warmed by his skin, now feeling exactly like fingertips, touching him so skillfully like an extension of Pacho’s hand. It circles around his belt buckle, sticking into his pants, but just a little, not far enough to touch anything. He moans and shifts uncomfortably, trying to ease the growing tension in his pants, and instantly, the pressure on his right wrist becomes stronger.

“Patient.” Pacho whispers against him, hot breath tickling on his ear lobe. “Focus on what you’re doing.”

Fernando groans, not hiding his frustration. He has managed to work half of the buttons open, revealing Pacho’s tanned chest, marked with several pink scars. He runs his fingers through each one, feeling the slightly rougher skin. He can’t get enough of the sensation. God…he wants to lick them. Suddenly, the remaining two or three buttons look unbearably annoying, and he has a strong urge to just tear the whole shirt apart, but he also knows that he’s probably used up all the leniency tonight, so it's best for him to be good, for now.

Fernando takes a deep breath and tells himself to stay focused, keeping his hand stable, carefully maneuvering the last few buttons open.

“Now?” He impatiently tugs on Pacho’s belt, not hiding his desperation. “Please?”

Pacho smiles against his lips, and then finally lets go of his right hand. His wrist is still a little sore, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing Pacho’s belt buckle, like a starving man opening a can of food. Letting out a shaky sigh, Fernando pulls down the boxers to release the hot flesh underneath: hard, heavy, throbbing against his palms.

The gun slowly moves down his abdomen, digging into his own belt which is still perfectly intact. The barrel almost touches his cock, almost, merely an inch away, yet he’s feeling the heat, the stimulation already overwhelming.

Fernando grabs Pacho’s wrist and shoves it down.

He inhales sharply as the gun presses tightly into his crotch, metal to skin, right between that sensitive spot between two balls. He fumbles to take off his own pants, fingertips sweating.

“Look at me.” Pacho tells him, so he does, staring into his own reflection in Pacho’s slightly dilated pupils, like little mirrors in a fairytale, drowning him in dark magic.

He sees the smirk in Pacho’s eyes as his pants and boxers are pulled down. He sighs at the relief, and then looks at the gun right next to his hard cock. He smirks back, and aligns his wet tip against the barrel, giving it a playful thrust. He knows it won’t go in, but the novelty alone is enough to send another wave of arousal through his body.

“Well, too bad the gun’s not big enough.”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

“I know.”

*

Pacho crushes their lips together, more bites than kisses, until he tastes the scent of his own blood, but it doesn’t hurt, barely a tiny sting.

The gun moves again, torturously slow, tracing the bulging vein on his cock, and further down…

“Turn around.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice to shift under Pacho, confined between two muscular thighs. The skin touches his own legs and hip as he turns, and it tickles…no, it burns.

His stiff cock is pressed against the smooth leather, insatiable desire trapped under his own body, and yet every muscle on his back comes to life as they’re savored by Pacho’s lips, tongue or teeth.

His breath hitches when the piece of hard, round metal touches his entrance. Fernando balls his hands into fists, bracing himself for what’s about to come. He holds his breath, waiting for the breach, which surprisingly doesn’t come for several seconds. But it’s not moving away either, just perfectly still between his cheeks. He turns to the side, shooting Pacho a confused glance.

Pacho lays a palm on his lower back, not really pushing down, just with enough force to hold him at the current position. “Have you done this before?”

There’s no point in lying. His reaction already spoke louder than words. “No, but there’s a first to everything, right?”

Pacho raises his eyebrows. There’s so much unsaid in the silence, and if his brain wasn't filled with lust, he would have looked deep into those beautiful brown eyes and analyzed every emotion, pulling out every thought. But for once, he doesn’t have to. That subtle sense of consideration or restraint, regardless of the motives behind, tells him more than he needs to know at this moment.

Fernando smiles, his entire body easing up instantly, like he just swallowed the most effective muscle relaxer in the world, and he knows that’s a terrible idea. There’s absolutely no reason to feel relaxed now, or ever, not with someone like Pacho. Yet inexplicably, for completely illogical reasons, he has rarely been more sure of himself. “You won’t hurt me, not with this.”

“No, not with this.”

Pacho answers quickly, and it sounds like a reassurance, a comfort for him, but something incredibly soft and complicated flashes across Pacho’s face. Fernando recognizes it from distant memories of his own, when he felt understood, seen, in some unexpected way, sometimes with the most random matters.

He spreads his legs wider.

"Then give me your worst.”

*

The scented candle burns vigorously on the coffee table, dangerously close to his face, the little flame dancing at the rhythm of his breathing. Fernando closes his eyes and exhales as the two fingers inside him press right on the sweetest spot. At the back of his mind, he wonders if that bottle of essential oil on the table is truly a convenient coincidence.

A particularly forceful thrust jerks him out of his thoughts. He lets out a sharp groan, scratching the leather beneath him.

“What are you thinking?”

Fernando blinks at the dancing red flame. “Did you plan for this to happen?”

“Plan?” Pacho snorts, pressing deeper into him, adding a third finger to open him up further effortlessly. “There’s nothing to plan here. You should see yourself.”

He laughs, but it turns into a moan midway. “Hey, you aren’t very shy yourself.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“Good.” He presses back against Pacho’s fingers. “There’s nothing to complain about here.”

Pacho pulls the fingers out, a little faster than necessary. Then he picks the gun back up.

“We’ll see about that.”

*

He tries to relax: control the breathing, talk to himself in the head, and whatever worked before when he experimented with new things. But this is different.

This is a gun, a loaded gun, and he can’t see it.

“What’s your favorite gun when you go hunting?”

“What?” He snaps to look at Pacho, not sure where the question came from. If this is meant to distract him, it sure doesn’t work if they’re staying on the topic of guns.

“You’ve been hunting since you were sixteen, right?” He feels a large hand caressing his hip and thigh, massaging the tense muscles on his waist. “Tell me, what do you like?”

“Ah well, my dad had a few Remingtons, so I’m pretty familiar with those, but I guess I’d say my favorite is Mannlicher Schoenauer 1903. I got my first deer with it. I think it was…”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence, as the barrel starts pushing in. The sudden stretching feels so extreme that he’s sure he would hurt and bleed, but there’s no pain, just a dull soreness.

“Go on?” Pacho’s voice is filled with amusement, but his hand is steady and firm. “Tell me more about the deer.”

“I think I was eighteen.” Fernando hears the trembling in his voice. He remembers the story vividly, but he’s struggling to put it into words when he literally has a gun inside him. “I mean, I’ve shot birds and rabbits before that, but that time I felt confident enough to go for a deer, and we saw…ah!”

The gun moves, brushing his prostate, and he has to fight down a scream. Fernando tries to shift into a more comfortable position, but Pacho presses hard down on his back, stopping all the small movements he can manage to make. That’s why Pacho’s asking him to tell the story, isn’t it? Right now he is the prey, and if he doesn’t agree with that, Pacho’s going to make him one.

“Saw what? I’m listening.”

“…Saw a beautiful deer.” He sighs, allowing himself to surrender, for now. “I aimed at its heart and took the shot, but I missed it. I didn’t know how, the gun even had a scope, but I shot his leg instead.”

The gun starts to move back and forth. The sensation feels less threatening, now that he gets more comfortable with it. If anything, it kind of feels like a very hard, straight dick, but it does exactly what it’s supposed to do, giving him a rush of pleasure with every thrust, but more intense, more violent.

Pacho brings a hand to his thigh. ���Where in the leg?”

“I don’t really remember.” Fernando laughs out at the weird fixation on detail. “Just the left one maybe?”

He screams at a hard pinch on his left thigh, while the gun pushes all the way in. He can even feel Pacho’s knuckles on his cheeks now.

“Poor deer.”

“You fucking asshole.” Fernando bites his bottom lip, digging his fingers in between two cushions and grabbing hard onto one.

“Then what? Did you shoot it again?”

“Not immediately.” He takes a very deep breath, closing his eyes at the memory. “It was screaming, and there was blood everywhere. I hadn’t shot anything that large before, guess I was a bit shocked.”

“It’s the worst, right?” Pacho says nonchalantly, which makes it even more thrilling. “When you want them to die quickly, but they just don’t.”

They’re definitely not talking about the same thing. Fernando knows it, and Pacho knows it too! But what’s worse is that, it fucking works on him. It feels like the gun just caught on fire, and it’s melting him, consuming him from within, a deadly ecstasy. Yet it’s not enough, because it won’t be enough until Pacho hears the end of the story. He’s not getting what he wants until Pacho gets it first.

“My father, he told me to finish it.” He tries to finish the story with as few words as possible. “Even if it lived, it’d be a crippled deer in the woods. Killing it would be the merciful thing to do. So I did.”

“What a good son you are.” Suddenly, there’s something other than teasing in Pacho’s voice, something more serious, more vicious. “Imagine if your father could see you right now, and know who you really are.”

“What?!” That comment snaps him out of the blissful state like a splash of cold water. “What are you…”

“Nothing, relax.” Pacho leans down to kiss the back of his neck, seductive and mesmerizing. “You’re not a boy anymore. You can stop pretending to be good.”

His vision goes blank for a moment when the gun gets pulled out of his body, and within a glimpse of a second, it’s replaced by hot human flesh.

Pacho bottoms out with one smooth motion, sending him close to the edge right there and then. He screams and trembles, feeling as if he’s lost control of the lower part of his body, clenching uncontrollably around Pacho’s desire, following Pacho’s rhythm.

Fernando hurries to reach for his own cock, chasing that final release, but Pacho grabs his wrist and pins it right next to his head. He struggles, fighting desperately. “No! No please…”

Pacho doesn’t answer, just keeps thrusting into him, hard and precise, like a cruel hunter firing his shots, disabling and torturing the prey however as he pleases, until he finds the mercy in himself to deliver the final bullet to the heart.

Fernando doesn’t recognize the voice coming out of his own throat, or the movements of his own body. He doesn’t belong to himself anymore, just for a little while, just as long as this exhilarating torture lasts, he doesn’t mind being the prey.

The world outside disappears as the orgasm takes over, sending him over the edge of reality. The pleasure expands, explodes through every nerve, every vein.

At that moment, it feels like his body giving in to the overwhelming sensations, his heart failing to beat, and his brain failing to make sense.

It feels like death, before he truly comes alive.

*

Fernando lies on the couch under a warm blanket as Pacho gets dressed next to him, allowing himself a rare moment of indolence.

“So?” Pacho smiles down at him, running a hand through his hair, now a little wet from the sweat.

He looks up, leaning into the touch. “Do you need to ask?”

“Guess not.” Pacho moves his hand down, gently brushing his cheekbone and neck, stopping at the shoulder. “But in case you are also wondering, it was incredible, especially for a first timer.”

“Please, you make it sound like I was a virgin.”

“Well, in that case, it was phenomenal and you’re very talented.”

Fernando snorts out, and then they both burst out laughing, like two regular lovers fooling around, but the folder he brought here earlier is still on the coffee table, and inside, there’s confidential information on Carlos and his sick daughter.

“I would love for you to spend the night.” Pacho picks the folder up. “But I think we have to agree that’s not a good idea.”

“Yeah, I need to get home before the sun comes up.” It’s the truth, but it doesn’t help with the disappointment.

“There’s still time. You can sleep for a few hours. I’ll wake you up.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.” Pacho pulls the blanket up for him. “We treat our guests well.”

“What kind of guests are we talking about here?”

“Just go to sleep.”

So he does. He closes his eyes and lets himself drift away, naked on a couch, right next to one of the most dangerous men in the country.

He sleeps well.

@ashlingnarcos @ashlingiswriting @cheesybadgers @cherixrosa @cositapreciosa @criatividad-e @narcolini @yourlocalspacewitxch @kesskirata @mandaloria314 @marrianena @alreadywritten @drabbles-mc @smoke-n-fiire

[dissatisfied-waking]

The silence quickly became unbearable, loud and suffocating at the same time, echoing in the throne room. Arthur, no longer capable of standing before his father’s disapproving gaze, turned on his heel, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side as he made his way to the high doors.

He most definitely was not stomping, just walking loudly and angrily, making sure his frustration was heard clearly .

When he reached the doors, his hand reaching out to grab the handle, Uther’s voice rang out, “Arthur.”

Arthur froze, all actions coming to a halt: moving, blinking, even his breathing . There was a demanding edge to his fathers voice that just begged for him to stop and listen . “Marriage is not about love, Arthur. I learned the hard way that it will only lead to weakness in a king, therefore his kingdom. I don’t want you to make the same mistake that I did. I want for you to be better than I ever was, to be the greatest king Camelot has ever seen in history.”

Ah, yes. The grief.

That was what Arthur heard in his fathers words, the undeniable agony that had torn his father apart when his wife— Arthur’s mother , Ygraine— was taken from him by magic. Of course, no one in the kingdom would dare to speak of the former Queen of Camelot, lest they wish death upon themselves.

Arthur wrapped his hand around the handle, yanking the door open roughly and stormed out of the throne room, intent on getting away from Uther as quickly as possible. Tears burned at his eyes with each step he took, threatening to spill as they hung dangerously off of his eyelashes, but he wiped them away before they could fall.

[exsanguinated-doves]

(contemporary) prose poetry bonaganza

ahh..so was supposed to send this out to a writing zine competition and the submissions went wonky, and we all had to resubmit. however, I did not, so I'll be sharing this with tumblr.

infavourable : a thing about queer love, climate change, and cultural christianity,

love is stupid; in the way it appears in all shapes and forms, — In the way that it reveals itself out of nowhere, in the way we find it in our lives at moments where it shouldn’t — the entire concept of it is absurd, and ridiculous. (Let’s just break it into pieces.)

How it is coveted, a prize, to be won and claimed [claimed; a clamp of a cuff on a wrist / the bite of an engagement ring / it holds steadfast and clings /— to be shaped and formed — to be used with excessive force — ] how freeing it is; but, the terrible agony that it comes with, "this agony of marriage!"

‘we see not only a cage, but a trap in itself, for this, it is looked down upon..? “when it is not a cage nor a trap but something one wills to go into;’ [ in the same way a starved man would hunger and yearn for a bit of bread to pass his lips ] and one which is a divine gift [ when a mommy and daddy love each other very much ...] a blessing from the — (no, don’t even say it)

but, behold, my rules for this act of service, it must only be two lest it be a congregation of sin; one must do it in the spirit of the most High, and the man, and woman, must be bonded by the most scared act of marriage (you and your three divorces?) or else; one is nothing but an unclean sacrifice , and will be gnashing their teeth in the sulfur flames for all eternity [in the depths of the inferno; I cannot say which burns hotter, our passion, our desire, or your hatred for us , or global warming]

as a woman, you are bound by the duty, to be of a dutiful wife (or bring everlasting shame to your family and your descendants and everyone else who you have borne with the Prince of Hell) you must love a man; nothing else, and in return he may give you diamonds (and discard you!) and if you are a man, you must love a woman, (show none of your tears; you must have a girl before nightfall) and therefore, you shall procreate , and spread His holy word (hey guys , He said I can’t love women, yeah, sorry - “would He be fooled if I wear pants and you the skirt?” — you know what, let’s give it a try -)

paragons of virtue, you should be, as little girls like you are white and pure and clean (I am the Antichrist and I was borne with no gender ; because I am the devil’s associate. “we’re going as harley and ivy though, right?” - yes, of course - “should your mother think you have dressed as Salome with your sparkling clothes, just tell her it’s for a play” — I think she would prefer I dance for men than you — “you don’t even dance well-“ I mean ballet. I can do that! — “and the real devil after all were those billionaires” — and capitalism — “and mega corporations” — and amazon — “and those fascists” — and that prime minister of yours; — “ah, this is why I love you ..!” )

and I drink the blood of not Christian boys but of my own when I bite my lip a bit too hard when I see her smile

[ her laugh is silvery as water, for her, how could I not? ]

[goodfish-bowl]

A Machete and a Silver Chain

Danny Phantom and Gravity Falls Crossover

Summary: Dipper knows something is off with that new guy working the night shift at the only gas station in Gravity Falls, Danny.

AO3 Link

Words: 1927

Notes: Was supposed to be for Crossover Danuary Week 2022, but meh, better (super) late than never.

Dipper wanted proof. He craved it. He wanted to show Mabel that the cute guy she’d been doting on for the past few days was a threat. Dipper had the insatiable need to prove that Danny, the night shift employee at the only gas station in Gravity Falls, wasn’t human.

This Danny guy had started working there some time a few weeks after the twins had arrived in Gravity Falls. Candy and Grenda had quickly told Mabel about the development, including all the rumors. Danny was from out of town, looked to be in his teens, but when asked, said he was 18. No one knew him, he was a complete stranger. He never gave a last name, only to call him Danny. No one even had an idea where he lived, but the only time he was ever seen was late at night, working his shift at the gas station desk.

Now, when Dipper had first met the guy, he’d seemed nice (Wendy seemed to like him an uncomfortable amount, which only upset himself further, not that he would admit it,) but he sent chills down Dipper’s spine when those striking blue eyes stared at him a second too long. Mabel immediately fell in love (despite the fact that the guy was clearly not interested and at least a couple years older than her), but that wasn’t really surprising. The trio of girls giggled and gossiped about him, making up all sorts of stories about who he was and where he came from. Dipper was forced to listen to as many different iterations of cheesy romance tropes as he could remember. Runaway prince, undercover agent, runaway undercover agent, runaway undercover agent that was actually a prince…

“Maybe he’s a vampire or something?” Dipper threw out there.

Mable gasped, “I wonder if he sparkles in the sunlight?!”

“No!” Dipper exclaimed, “Vampire’s are dangerous, Mabel, and they definitely don’t sparkle.” Dipper quickly brought out his journal, quickly flipping to the page on vampires and shoved it in his twin's face. “See?! Dangerous! Vampires only look attractive so he can lure you away and eat you!”

“But the danger, Bro Bro, it makes the romance so much sweeter… a forbidden romance…” Mabel swooned, and the other two girls joined in.

Dipper groaned in agony, “Fine! Get yourself eaten. I’m going to actually do something about this!” He declared, jumping from his position on the bed and stumbling out of the room.

Dipper rushed through the Mystery Shack, nearly falling down the stairs, nearly tripping Grunkle Stan, punched in the code to the vending machine, and rushed into the hidden spaces below.

“Grunkle Ford!” Dipper called once the elevator reached the second floor.

“Ah, Dipper,” Grunkle Ford greeted, “Just in time! I could really use your help cleaning-”

Dipper cut off Grunkle Ford before he could get much farther, flipping to the page he had just shown to Mabel, and showing Grunkle Ford in turn.

“I think the new guy at the gas station is a vampire,” Dipper stated.

“Oh?” Grunkle Ford hummed, hand on his chin. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard of a vampire in Gravity Falls. They typically prefer more populated areas, but I suppose an isolated town in the middle of the woods has its own benefits,” Ford mused. “Can you describe him?”

Dipped nodded, “Yeah, um…” Dipper thought back on his meeting with Danny, “He’s really pale, he most likely says he’s older than he is. No one ever sees him during the day, only during his shift at the gas station. No one knows where he lives…” Dipper tried to think of something else, when another memory resurfaced, “His hands are super cold! Like holding onto something frozen. He didn’t show his teeth when he smiled. Oh, oh, oh! And his eyes! They’re really blue, but they do that thing, like a cat! Where they glow!” Dipper had almost fainted when the lights flickered and he saw bright green eyes in the dark, not that he was going to tell Grunkle Ford that.

Grunkle Ford seemed to think about it for a moment, “Yep, that sounds like a vampire, alright. Dipper, do you remember how to get rid of a vampire?” Ford asked.

Dipper pondered for a moment before answering, trying not to look at the book for the answer. ”Wooden stake or silver?” He guessed.

Ford grinned, “Those will hurt the vamp, but not kill it. To kill a vampire you need to behead it.”

Dipper paled, “Behead?!”

Ford sighed, tired but sympathetic. “Vampires are dangerous, Dipper,” Ford explained, “If we don’t get rid of him, he could hurt a lot of people, that’s not even counting the people he might have already killed.”

Dipper gulped, not liking the idea, but agreeing that it sounds reasonable, “Alright, I guess. But we have to make sure first. Do you have anything for that?”

Ford hummed in thought, snapping when he obviously had an idea, and began rummaging through some drawers in the lab. Dipper watched anxiously. He really hoped Ford wouldn’t just outright kill Danny. Sure, Danny could be a dangerous vampire, but he could also just be a weirdly creepy guy. Dipper didn’t like the idea of hurting someone who didn’t deserve it. (Dipper didn’t want to think about how Ford probably wouldn't have checked to make sure Danny is a vampire first if he hadn’t mentioned it.)

Ford pulled out a thick silver chain with a cross dangling from it with a triumphant shout. “Silver! It won’t kill him, but it will certainly do the trick of proof. The cross is iron too. Won’t hurt a vamp, but it works on a lot of other things,” Ford explained, and Dipper mentally jotted down notes. (He would physically jot them down later.)

Ford checked the clock, “Six o-clock, sun sets in a couple of minutes,” Ford turned to him, “Are you ready?”

Dipper nodded, swallowing his doubt and the dreadful feeling in his stomach that something bad was going to happen.

Dipper carefully watched Danny through the window to the gas station. Neither Dipper nor Ford could find out how Danny had arrived, he had just walked out of the back like he had been there the entire time. (They’d been staked out here for about an hour and a half, watching people come and go, Danny had only been on shift for about a third of it.) Ford was waiting until the lull in late night activity, so that there were very little chance of them being interrupted should something go south. Mabel was most definitely asleep by now, but Dipper was helping people, so he’d stay awake for as long as it took.

Ford gave Dipper a light shove somewhere around 1:30 am, jolting the boy away from his half-doze. Dipper gave a small, started yelp at the sudden contact, only to be shoved quickly down by Ford. Danny was looking over in their direction, eyes narrowed. Dipper stiffened, there was no way a normal person would have heard that. Ford and Dipper stayed frozen for what could have easily been twenty minutes, before Danny went back to paying attention to whatever he was doing on the laptop set up in front of him.

Ford handed Dipper a machete when it was time, one that was sharp and light enough for him to use. He still held it unsteadily.

“Hide it under your jacket. I’ll be the one to check, you’re my back up,” Ford ordered, and Dipper nodded, slipping the machete into the back of his jacket.

They emerged from their hiding spot and casually walked into the gas station, a small bell announcing their arrival. Danny looked up for a split second, blue eyes piecing them, before he returned to his work. Dipper still felt like he was being carefully watched, the uncomfortable chill of the machete against his shirt feeling like it was burning him. Ford beckoned him to a place between the shelves and away from the cameras, a blind spot, then began gesturing with his hands in some sort of code.

Ford agreed that there was something up with Danny. Dipper was supposed to stay crouched down until Ford signaled him. Ford was going to approach Danny now.

“Young man, could you take a look at something for me real quick?” Ford asked, pretending to be the old man he really was.

“Huh?” Danny asked, looking up somewhat surprised, “Sure, I guess?”

“I have this old chain, and the clasp is broken, but my eyes aren’t what they used to be. Do you think you could latch it for me?”

Danny shrugged, “Sure thing.”

Ford pressed the silver chain into Danny’s hand. No reaction. Danny looked at the chain.

“Huh, this is quite the piece,” Danny hummed. Then he went to grab the cross to get a better look at the cross.

Danny let out a startled gasp when he made contact with it, yanking back his hand in shock. The cross had burned him, not the chain. Ford lunged all the same, easily clearing the counter, and making a grab to pin Danny on the ground. Danny shouted and grunted, trying to get Ford off of him and Dipper rushed out of his position and gave the machete to Ford across the counter. He couldn’t see the fight on the ground behind the counter, but from the sound of it, Ford was barely able to keep Danny down.

In that second when he handed off the machete, Dipper got a glimpse of the situation. Ford had his arm pinned against Danny’s throat, who was snarling back, sharpened canines snapping and scratching at Ford trying to escape, eyes blown wide in panic and doused in a toxic green Dipper had never seen before. Ford snatched the machete and held it to Danny’s neck, the point drawing a thin line of blood. Danny froze, muscles still drawn taunt, and Ford rasped on top of him, holding Danny in place.

“I don’t know what you are,” Ford growled, “but the only beings I know that are burned by pure iron are much more dangerous than vampires.”

Danny didn’t say anything, probably due to the machete at his neck, and Ford’s attention seemed to be drawn to something Dipper couldn’t see.

“I wasn’t hurting anyone,” Dipper heard Danny whisper, sad and solemn, but it was nearly drowned out by Ford’s startled shout,

Ford shot to his feet and snapped his head around, looking for something. Ford easily cleared the counter, and Dipper glanced over it. Danny was gone… but he had been there just a second ago. He had heard the creepy teen speak. But no one was there now. Ford rushed through the gas station for a minute or two, looking for someone that wasn’t there, before slumping in on himself with a tired sigh.

“Grunkle Ford,” Dipper asked hesitantly, “What happened?”

“He got away,” Ford admitted, exhausted,“He slipped right through the floor once he was able to gain his bearings. I don’t think he’ll be coming back here anytime soon either.” Ford glanced at the machete and approached Dipper. “But this wasn’t a wasted trip, look.”

Dipper glanced at the blood on the tip of the machete. It was red and green, a neon toxic green to be exact, but neither was able to fully mix with each other, creating a marbled effect.

“Do you know what Danny is?” Dipper asked, almost fearing the answer.

Ford looked down, shoulders tense and jaw clenched.

“Dangerous.”

[lubdubsworld]

A Tale Untold. ( Jungkook x Oc)

Historical Au! General Jungkook! x Princess Oc!

Warnings : Non con/ Dub con, Manipulation, violence.

Rated 18+

Summary : The King of Elvyra is proud of his empire and of his perfect family. But the truth behind his ascension, is a tale that remains untold.

“The palace is so beautifully maintained your Majesty. Truly, such opulent splendor …..” The envoy from the neighboring Kingdom stood slack jawed in the Grand Hall, staring around at the gleaming trophies, mounted shields and gold embossed portraits that decorated the walls.

The brocade curtains had been left open, tied together with silk braided ropes with jeweled hangings, the light from the late afternoon sun setting the whole place aglow. On ornate tables scattered across the large room, stood little treasures and trinkets that had been taken as bounty from successful military campaigns against smaller, weaker Kingdoms.

All of it a testament to the unchallenged power wielded by General Jeon Jungkook, the King of Elvyra. He was not like the other monarchs. He still commanded his army personally despite wearing the title of King.

Jeon Jungkook, who stood to my left, with his arm wrapped around my waist in a possessive grip that was just shy of painful.

“ You must thank my beautiful queen for that, I’m afraid, Sir Cha. She has been much occupied with setting the Hall and the Palace to rights after my ascension, and her efforts have paid off. Have they not, princess?” Jungkook whispered, turning around to brush soft lips against my ear and I felt physically sick.

The last endearment was a sneer. And insult. A reminder of what I was : a captive.

“Yes, my King.” I said softly, keeping my tone level. I wouldn’t dare act up in front of guests, because Jungkook’s punishments would be cruel and merciless. He would keep my sister away from me, or worse, he would forbid me from spending time with our oldest son.

Jihwan was only seven, but already he was being trained as the heir, spending hours on the training fields with his father and it took endless hours of begging and servicing Jungkook in his bed and out of it, for me to be allowed a scant few hours with the boy.

Jungkook drilled into his head the importance of power, the need to instill fear in his subordinates, raising him to be just as ruthless and cruel as he himself was and I had only those few stolen hours to speak to my son about the values that I had grown up with. My heart ached when I remembered the kind of monarch my own father had been : a kind, gentle man who loved his Kingdom. And my elder brother had been raised with morals , compassion and justice in his veins, only for Jeon Jungkook and his barbaric army to invade our home and destroy it all.

“Your beauty outshines all of this, my Queen.” A man simpered next to me and Jungkook’s eyes narrowed at him. I swallowed. Jungkook didn’t like others looking at what was his.

“The story of your ascension to the throne here, we would love to hear of it.” One of the women said and my breath caught in my lungs, Memories flooded my head, traumatizing and painful. My skin went hot and then icy cold and my husband laughed next to me.

“It was quite simple. I was offered the throne and the lovely daughter of the Kingdom, in return for saving them from ruin, was it not, my dear?”

Liar.

“I.. Yes.”

“Ruin? Was your kingdom is trouble, my Queen?” the woman asked.

~~~~~~

No. We were rich and thriving. Everyone was treated equal here. My parents ruled with a heart of gold and everyone was well fed and joyful. We held festivals every month, celebrated life and never deemed ill will to anyone else. We loved each other. The commonfolk dined with the royals in the courtyards and the King himself drank at the cavern down in the village. The oldest prince, my brother, he played with the boys in the village, taught them how to wield the sword and the bow and arrow and my sister and I… we spent our days in the meadows…. Making daisy chains and stealing kisses from the stable boys.

~~~~~

“ They were in desperate need of firm leadership. My father in law, may he rest in peace….he had a weak heart that gave out soon after our alliance. Her brother followed soon after leaving me no choice but to take over.” Jungkook’s voice held a note of genuine sympathy and I felt sick to my stomach.

~~~~~~~~

The sight of my father, kneeling in front of his throne, shackled and in chains. My mother on her knees, begging for mercy and Jungkook’s men held a dagger to her throat. My brother standing in front of me and my sister, arms spread wide as he stared right at General Jeon, refusing to kneel.

“What you’re doing goes against every law on earth, Jeon. The moment you attack a foe when he has his back turned you reveal yourself to be a coward.”

And Jungkook had laughed, loud and uncaring.

“And if I stab him through the heart when he’s right in front of me? What does that reveal?”

It had happened in a flash, the quick movement of his wrist, the flash of silver as he drew his weapon and then the sickening squelch of the blade as it sunk through skin and flesh. The hot wetness of my brother’s blood as it splattered all over my face, the dawning horror as I realized that he had run the sword right through my brother’s heart and the endless screams from my mother and sister as my brother died right in front of our eyes.

I had stood there, too stunned to scream watching the boy who had taught me how to walk bleeding to death in front of me and when I had looked up, Jungkook’s eyes had been trained on mine.

“Bring her here” He had said firmly, pointing right at me and my entire world had exploded in agony. I screamed in protest as his men grabbed me by the arm, yanking me forward with such force that my legs gave out, dragging over the rough stone floors as they pulled me to stand in front of the man who had invaded our home without remorse.

“General Jeon….” My father’s voice came from behind me , soft and yet firm. I could hear the grief and pain in the syllables, and I wondered how much my father must be aching at this moment. He had loved my brother with his whole heart “ We’ve offered to surrender, offered you the throne. Please. Spare my daughters and my wife. There is a summer palace at the edge of the kingdom . We will retire there and live our lives out in exile. Please… don’t hurt them. They are too young to understand what you’re doing.”

One of the men standing next to Jungkook stepped forward and I glanced at him, my eyes widening when I saw his face. He looked like an angel, pristine and flawless. And his gaze was trained on my sister . I felt my heart began to pound as he began making his way over to her.

“No!! No… Aline!!” I screamed and Jungkook’s hand shot out gripping my jaw and forcing my mouth closed.

“Hold your tongue, woman.” He whispered. “ My patience wears thin.” He glanced at my father and the smirk on his face grew bigger. “ I think that would be such a pity, your highness. A face like your daughter’s … it doesn’t belong in exile. It belongs on the throne…. does it not, princess?”

“Your daughters are beautiful , majesty. They deserve to have handsome, brave husbands, do they not?” the man who had gone to my sister called out, his fingers curled around her arm as he dragged her to the front and I felt my heart crack in two as Aline burst into loud, miserable tears.

“Lulu…. Lulu make him stop… tell him to let me go…” She whimpered , punching fruitless against the soldier’s armored chest and the man seemed amused as he stared at her.

“Please…she’s too young…” I begged, staring at Jungkook beseechingly. “ She’s only sixteen summers old… Please don’t hurt her…”

“Sixteen isn’t a child. She is old enough to bear one herself.” The man holding her snapped angrily and I stiffened.

“A fair enough point, Taehyung- ah…” Jungkook laughed “ but we’re not barbarians. Let her go for now.”

“What?” Taehyung growled. “ No. I want her. Jungkook I’ve never taken anything from any of the countless kingdoms we’ve ravaged but I want her.” He shook my sister like she was ragged doll and Aline looked catatonic with terror.

“Please , let her go, she’s shaking…” I begged , trying to yank my arms away from the men holding me and Jungkook growled.

“Shut your mouth or your father dies.” He snarled and I was too stricken, too distracted to register what he had said, too focused on my baby sister to listen.

“please Jungkook, don’t do this… She’s young and she’s scared….”

Jungkook’s snarl of rage made me go white as a sheet and I watched in horror as he pointed straight at my father with the sword that still dripped with my brother’s life blood.

“ Get rid of the old fool.” He roared and my heart ripped straight in two.

“NO!!!!!!!”

My loud cry did nothing to deter the men holding my father who showed not a moment of hesitation, raising their sword.

“Remember who you are, Iseul!!” My father said loudly and I turned my face away, closing my eyes as the sickening sound of the blade coming down rang through the place, my mother’s howl of agony following shortly after. I stared at the floor, going limp in the arms of the men holding me up, my body numb and throbbing in disbelief.

“Now look what you made me do.” Jungkook snapped. “ I was going to let the poor fool live, somewhere in the dungeons with your mother but your complete and utter disregard for my authority….it fills me with rage, Iseul.” He snapped.

I couldn’t breathe, my lungs constricting. They were dead. My father and brother, the only two men who had protected me and my sister all our lives, they were both dead. This man. No, not a man. A monster.

This cruel, heartless monster had butchered them in front of my eyes.

“Look at me.” He said suddenly, stepping in front of me.

I didn’t respond, keeping my gaze trained on the floor and his hand shot out, gripping my chin and forcing me to look up at him.

“Look at me.” He said firmly. “ Come morning we will be wed. I will be your husband. You will belong to me. You will give me strong heirs and all of your wants and needs will be mine to fulfill. Do you understand what that means, Iseul?” He demanded.

I choked on a sob.

“Jungkook we need to get rid of the bodies. Give them a proper funeral at least.” Another man stepped out of the shadows and Jungkook sighed.

“Yes, hyung. Taehyung-ah… Why don’t we take our new brides to our chambers?” He smirked, “ I could do with some stress relief now that the hard part of this whole thing is done.”

“Took you long enough. Come here my pretty doll…” Taehyung grinned, dragging Aline away and I whimpered, stumbling to try and follow but Jungkook’s arm came around my waist squeezing tight.

“That’s her husband now. Think of it that way and it will hurt less. Your sister is married to a man who will love her , protect her and cherish her. He will give her nice strong children. What more do you want for her?”

I exhaled shakily, turning to him.

“ What do you know of love, you monster?” I whispered.

Jungkook hummed.

“Then how about this, my princess. Let me teach you what I know of pleasure, and you can teach me all about love.”

It was a lesson that I never forgot. A painful, humiliating excruciating lesson in his bed where he stripped of my clothes, my dignity and the last shreds of my honour.

I stared at the ceiling as he lay over me, the large expanse of his chest pinning me to the mattress, the slick drag of his member inside me making me ache and throb, his lips, pressing kisses against my throat.

“you smell like a flower garden, my angel. So pure and precious. Made for me, I see….” He whispered, hips pushing up against mine as he ducked into me with long, rough strokes.

I stayed still staring into nothing and he pinched my nipple, twisting the buds till I whimpered.

“Please…”

“please what?” He whispered, resting his forehead against mine, forcing me to stare into doe eyes that seemed to glitter like the clear sky on a spring night. What a beautiful monster.

“Please stop…” I whispered.

“Stop…” He laughed cruelly. He pulled out fully before slamming back in with more force. Pain lanced up my body. “ Now why would I do that?”

“Hurts…” I whispered, exhausted. My hands lay limp and tired next to my head, throbbing from trying to punch him countless times to no avail.

“Poor little love. It hurts because you aren’t used to it. I will do this often and well and soon, your body will know that I belong inside you. And then you will beg me to make it last longer… not stop.”

I closed my eyes, staring into my mind. Remember who you are? I didn’t even know who I was anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Of course, it was a pity that the royal blood came to an end that way. But some things can’t be helped.” Jungkook said firmly, arm still wrapped around me in a vice like grip. I glanced at the sun as it dipped lower in the sky. Was Jihwan done with the training? I wanted to see him. To hold him and remind myself that there was still some goodness in the world.

“But under your rule, the kingdom has thrived, your Majesty. So it was all for the best.” The man said brightly and Jungkook chuckled.

“That is true. Would you like to view the training grounds now?”

“If, I maybe excused?” I asked softly and Jungkook frowned.

“Is something the matter?”

“I feel a little unwell…” I said softly and the look on his face darkened.

But he didn’t protest, merely dipping his head lightly.

“Jihwan is in the west wing. He’s working on his scribing skills. You may visit him for a while and after our guests retire, I will fetch you from him.”

I bowed respectfully.

“Thank you, my King.”

~~~~~~~~

“Mother!!!” Jihwan’s loud cry rang through the hallway as he came barreling into my arms. I caught him too my chest, eyes stinging because soon he would be too old for me to hug and kiss and caress.

“My darling child, I’ve missed you..” I whispered.

“You saw me last night at dinner…” He laughed.

“And that is entirely too long ago.” I brushed the hair of his face. “ did you eat your meals? Have you been keeping yourself safe?”

He nodded eagerly.

“Auntie Aline and Uncle Tae bought me a new dagger.”

I felt my heart drop. A dagger?

“Darling, please be safe…Is it too sharp?”

“A little. But Uncle Tae told me I’m old enough to learn how to use it to fight.”

I closed my eyes, willing my self not to scream in frustration.

“Alright. But now unless your father is there to watch you, alright?” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Yes, mother. Mother…. “ He hesitated. “ Do Auntie Aline and Uncle Tae love each other?”

I blinked.

“What?”

“She looks so sad, sometimes.”

I bit my lips, willing myself to smile. Unlike me , my sister didn’t know how to put on an act. She had always been a delicate child and the trauma of our parents death and Taehyung’s cruelty had taken a toll on her. She was deeply depressed but her husband didn’t care. All Taehyung cared for was her body and the two sturdy sons she had borne him, a third child on the way.

“Of course darling. You do know, Han and Jiwoo are going to have a younger sibling soon? She must be tired from growing the baby inside her.”

“Will I have a sibling too?” He asked innocently and I opened my mouth to refute the idea when a shadow fell over us.

“Would you like one, my brave little tiger?” Jungkook’s voice rang over us and I stiffened.

“No.” I said swiftly, “ He enjoys having all of mama’s attention, don’t you darling?”

Jihwan wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t know. A little sister would feel nice.”

Jungkook hummed.

“I like the idea of that. If you give me a daughter then we can have her betrothed to Han at birth.” He said casually and I felt sick.

“Jihwan, you must go back to your lessons, now. Your mother and I will see you at dinner.” Jungkook said softly and I flinched when Jungkook gripped my shoulders tugging me away from my boy. Everyday Jihwan looked less and less upset at leaving me and I wondered if one day he would begin welcoming my departure.

Jungkook didn’t say a word, turning me around and leading me gently to the opposite wing, where our bedchamber lay. It was a path I traipsed a million times in the seven years we’d been married and yet, it felt just as unbearable as it had back then.

The sight of the King made the maids and footmen scramble away in a panic and I swallowed as he opened the large engraved doors , prompting me to go in. I stepped in only to have him press against my back at once. I stayed still, letting him untie the strings of my train, before moving to undo the button of my gown. He stopped halfway through.

“This is tedious. Strip for me and get on the bed.”

I didn’t move. What did he want? Surely he wouldn’t be thinking of humoring my son? The idea of bearing more children for him was abhorrent to me. I wanted to cry. But I did as he said, carefully stripping out of all my clothes ,m placing them in a neat pile, on the table nearby before moving to climb into the bed for him. Jungkook moved into sit against the headboard, before grabbing my wrists and pulling me to his lap.

“Look at me.” Jungkook said, once I sat straddling his thick thighs, the curve of my bottom resting against the hardness of his arousal. “ I was right, wasn’t I?”

I stared at him as his hands came up to pinch both of my nipples at the same time, playing with the hardened numbs till I began squirming on his hard length.

“ You were made for this weren’t you? To be my queen and my wife? Such a perfect mother too. I was right to choose you, wasn’t I?”

I stared at him, the handsome face that I wanted to hate., But it was hard. He had given me Jihwan. He had let me keep my sister at arm’s length. He had let my mother live out her years in the palace, although the grief had killed her two years ago. It could be worse, I told myself, lifting and moving to line the tip of his member against my body and sinking down on him. It could be so much worse.

“Fuck…yes. Just like that angel….” He gripped my waist, bucking up into me and my body caved, now used to the intrusion.

“Yes…” I choked out, when his thumb moved to press against my center, rubbing circles.

“I was right….I’m always right . Your body knows I belong inside you.”

He pulled me close, arms a vice around my body and I choked as he fucked into me .

“Say it… “ He demanded and I closed my eyes, sorrow and helplessness welling into tears and brimming over my eyes onto his shoulders and down his back. But Just as I was used to him inside me, Jungkook was used to the tears soaking him whenever we did this.

“Don’t stop.” I breathed.

The King after all was always right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note : Would you guys like another part? But please tell me what you thought !!

[dawnwriterimagines]

Wrong side, Losing side: Zuko x f!Reader

Summary: When (y/n) chooses to help the avatar escape and betray her boyfriend Zuko, she is instantly a traitor to her home country, the fire nation.

- - -

You kicked off the cliff side, vaulting your body into the air, a flame manifesting with a concentrated swirl from your ankle down to your boot heel, with a swift flip in the middle of Azula's blue flame, the fire dispersed into loose embers as you landed in a crouch between Azula and the Avatar. The smoke around you all quickly dispelled as you came into view, Katara and Aang letting out synchronized sighs of relief.

Aang smiling widely, his heart leaping, "(y/n)!"

You spared the Avatar a comforting glance behind you, "You both need to keep going, the Dai Li can't be far!"

Katara tensed in alarm, shaking her head. "Not without you!"

The fire nation princess straightened from her attack, her brows raising in mild surprise before narrowing with an angered glare, "So, you've chosen to remain a traitor to your nation, have you? I expected more from you, (y/n)," her eyes narrowed deeply to slits, "That was my first mistake," she sneered, before raising a fist that quickly launched a flame your way, "And it won't happen again!"

You dived to the side to avoid the blistering heat, rolling onto your side and lunging to your feet then sprinting forwards. "Aang, go now!" You warned, backhanding a stray fireball before it could make contact with your face, directing a fire ball of your own towards the princess.

Aang and Katara reluctantly keep moving, running further into the cavern, but they don't get far, Azula kicks her foot out in front of her, sending herself backwards while blasting a plume of blue flames towards you. You gasp before bringing your palms up, your own purple flames materializing and splitting the fire apart, the heat licking at your bare arm's, you let out a fiery breath before tearing your way through the wall of flames as they dispersed and running towards Azula, who jumped off the side of a boulder to hurl two balls of fire towards the Avatar and Katara.

Luckily they were able to water bend a covering from the lake surrounding the cavern, as Azula lands, she grimaces in annoyance as she glances behind her to see you as well, it was three against one now. She wouldn't stand a chance.

You gasped as a rope of red hot flames tore through the steely glare that you and Azula shared, your eye's widening as Zuko lands as few feet away from you, his hands closed into tight fists directed at two people, Azula and Aang. He takes a few steps to the side, an equal distance between his two targets, he seems to be deciding.

His eyes link with yours, he seems to pause, his fists tightening as his jaw clenched from the decision he was about to make, his eyes close briefly and suddenly you understand. His eyes open once again with a vengeance, a menacing determination you hadn't seen since he had first found out the avatar was alive.

"Zuko, no--!" But, he's made his choice.

He fires two separate balls of fire, the first going towards Aang, the other hurtling towards you. You leap to the side, skidding before flicking your wrist outwards to produce a rope of fire as Zuko unleashes a fiery assault on Aang. You waste no time in flicking the fire whip his way, but he hasn't forgotten about you, quick to turn and sidestep it before materializing one of his own.

"What do you think you're doing?!" You snap the whip towards him, only for him to counter as you demand his answer.

"I'm fulfilling my destiny," his gaze hardens, before his own whip meets yours, the flames canceling as embers fly. Using your free hand, you throw out a fire ball towards his feet, his eyes flicker downwards and he rolls to his side before standing as you run towards him.

Aang rejoins Katara to help against Azula, swinging full force a violent wind that causes her flames to lose course, she sneers bitterly before raising her arms up, a wall of fire following before she pushes it forwards towards the two.

"How could your destiny be getting rid of the world's last hope?!" You swung a fire ball his way, to which he raised a flaming hand to extinguish.

"You wouldn't understand!" He grimaced, he gives a violent wave that produces a massive twisted flame towards you, you flip backwards, landing on your feet before tearing your hands through the fire wall as Zuko prepares another blast from behind it. "You never have!"

As you part the fire with a force of your own, your eye's widen in horror to see a massive fire ball, spinning like a vortex, violently hurtling towards you. You pull your hands up, raising a fiery barrier between you and it, but you're not fast enough, the wall fizzles out with the red flames and the two colors mix together. You would've found the mix of blazing flames as beautiful as you had always did, if it weren't for it hitting you point blank and throwing you back into the crystal cavern's side wall.

You hit the solid, jagged wall with an pained yelp before crumbling to your knees and onto your side, your hands burning from the flames, while you curled into yourself, sinking your elbows to your belly to ease the agonizing burns across it. You hissed with a cry, beads of tears springing up from the feeling, your eye's flicker up to look at Zuko.

He's stunned, although he tries not to make it too obvious, his hands open and close, clenching forcefully and his nails dig into his palms wondering if he had actually caused you pain or if this wasn't real. But, when he finally felt the first string of blood fall from his fingertips, he knew he had done the unforgivable. "(Y-y/n)--" he stepped forwards, taking an unsteady, almost hesitant step as if he'd scare you and himself if he moved too fast. "I didn't--" he starts, his eyes follow the first tear that slips down your face as you drop your head down.

Fire rains down behind the two of you, illuminating the cavern once again, Azula kicks her foot out towards the Avatar and whips her head around to glare at her brother. "Zuko!"

He turns, before giving you one last look. "No, please," you beg, trying to stand, only to fall. "Please, Zuko, don't do this."

You've never seen him as conflicted as he was now, it was almost painful to see him tear every single option, every choice in his head until one remained. He turned his back on you, your eye's widening, hurt and disappointed, "I have to do this, (y/n)," he breathed, before running off towards his sister.

"Zuko!"

He split apart Katara's attack towards Azula, the water bender nearly succeeding in her assault, but cutting in, the prince faced the water tribe girl with new vigor, as she only glared his way. Azula smirked, straightening before running forwards to throw a ball of blue fire hurtling towards Aang, who quickly dodged it and sent an attack of his own.

"I thought you had changed!" Katara forced the water to crawl up her limbs and quickly formed two water whips around her arms, "I believed in you," she sneered before flicking her wrists and throwing her arms down along with the bending water to hit against Zuko's own fire whips. "(Y/n) believed in you! And you betrayed her!"

Zuko frowned, “I have changed.” He fires another blast to the waterbender.

You stand to your feet, your hands shaking in agony from the burns across your palms, your face wet with sad, pained tears as you stumble before letting your hands ignite with flames, this time red in color. Your eyes catch Aang’s form as he attacks Azula encased in crystal from the cavern, Katara holds her own with Zuko as the two elements clash with one another. 

You run over to Aang as he rushes Azula, but the seasoned warrior princess is ready, halting in her movements and using her firebending to break Aang’s crystal armor and sending the young Avatar flying to the back wall. “Aang!” You gasp before charging forwards, faster, jumping up and firing off two blasts of fire to the prideful Azula. 

She turns in surprise, instinctively covering herself from the flames with her own, narrowly avoiding being burned. She straightens with a sneer as you land in your own stance to face her, “You disappoint me. Truly, (y/n). How your family must feel to see such a seasoned warrior reduced to this. You were once a pride of mine,” your gaze hardened at the princess as she glared at you heatedly, “Now, look at you, a fugitive of your nation and after today, a prisoner,” Azula’s hands lit up with blue flames as she got into a stance of her own, “That I will leave to rot.”

“Promises, promises,” You speak, tiredly, snickering lightly as Azula’s eyes turn to slits.

You dodge a blast of fire aimed at your feet, skidding to the side to kick out a flame soaring towards her. She pushes it away to embers with her own flames and rushes towards you, blue flames blazing from her fingers like lightning, she collides with you, purple and blue flames swelling around one another. The both of you exchanging fiery blows, one after another, your stumble as you tiredly deliver another blow to the princess with a cry. She dodges easily, her feet kicking up to sweep your legs right from under you, you fall with a gasp, using your hands to catch yourself only to scream in agony at the reminder of the burns across them. Azula gives you no time to rest as she raises her leg to stomp you down, rolling from under her, you use both your feet to send a wave of flames right into her chest. 

She stumbles back with a gasp, flames shrouding her gaze, she aims a flame to her front but she's stunned to see you’ve already moved as the flames part. She releases an angered, “No!” As she turns to see you using both your hands to create a tidal wave of fire that crashes down and towards the princess. “AH!”

Your eyes linking with the princess as she raises her arms to counter the move, you’ve never truly looked Azula in the face before, always reminded of your place. And even now, that look never ceased as she remained as proud as ever, even with a smile, conniving and evil, despite the situation, your brows furrow at her look as your flames clash together and fight for dominance. 

But as you feel another set of flames headed down towards you, you move away quickly, red flames crash down into your previous spot, giving Azula time to unleash a set of her own onslaught onto you. 

Katara groans as she sits up from the position, her hair having come undone from its braid, her back aches from hitting the crystal wall. Her eyes looking up to see the Dai Li agents surrounding the cavern as they jump from the top to land and prepare their attack on the remaining three. 

Katara stands to her feet despite her limbs screaming in protest as she aches all over, her hands moving up in repetitive movements as water moves to circle at her feet rising to make octopus like tendrils around her, daring any Dai Li to step up. The waterbender looks around, her eyes catching on familiar attire beyond her group of Dai Li enemies, her eyes widening as Azula steps away from your slumped form against the crystal pillar, “(Y/N)!” She screams in worry, glaring angrily at Azula, “You’re a monster!”

“That’s a compliment where I come from,” Azula snickers as she steps over your leg to walk towards the avatar, who was just beginning to notice the Dai Li piling to face him. Zuko hesitantly follows, his worried gaze lingering too long on your still frame to not feel the immense guilt that flooded him. 

With the fire lord’s children staring him down, trained earthbending guards of the earth kingdom’s royal guard ready to throw everything they have, Aang was face with a final decision. Fulfilling his final chakra, and letting go of love, “I’m sorry, Katara,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes tight before turning his back on the benders to create the crystal barricade. 

Your eyes open with the rough haul into someone’s grip, your eyes flickering to the side before throwing your hands up to wave a flamed hand to ward them off. It does the trick but it also sends a ripple of agony through your shoulder, to which you notice the large burn across your shoulder to your back, it burns horribly and you can feel the tears that had already been shed for the pain on your cheeks. But you still had a fight to continue. The dozens of Dai Li agents went for you again, but you sucked in a breath, releasing a fiery burst of fire from your throat, spewing the purple flames like a dragon, an angry roar manifesting.

A bright light ignites the cave eliciting everyone's attention, you stumble a little as you pause in your onslaught, flames dying out as you watch the Avatar rise into the air within a pillar of white light. Your eyes widening in awe, smiling faintly as he rises higher to stop the fighting finally. 

But then the loud shock of thunder in the air and the piercing of lightning interrupts the glow of the Avatar and the feeling in your heart is indescribable when you see Aang fall, the avatar’s eyes close and his body falls limp against the sky. Tears fall down your cheeks. “AANG!”

You can hear the sound of a wave behind you flushing out all the Dai Li, but it doesn’t stop you from running forwards, propelling yourself upwards with a short burst of fire as Katara washes over the rest of the tyrants below. You roll down in front of the two as Katara lands before you, catching aang in time with hopeless, miserable tears in her eyes. 

You lean down, reaching out to the young boy sadly, your hands stopping inches from his cheek, before balling up sadly as you crumble to your knees, exhausted and defeated. Katara shares your tears and the two of you reach for the others hand, holding tight as you turn back to see the Dai Li, Azula and Zuko standing, soaked but ready.

"You didn't have too..." you sniffled, groaning as you placed your hand to the ground, only letting the tips of your fingers touch the soiled cement beneath you. Katara reluctantly lets your hand slip from hers as you rise to protect them, "You didn't have to do this...you could've just--talked to me," you pushed yourself up to your feet, whimpering lightly as you clutched your side with your other hand. Zuko reached out, you glared at him instantly, making him tense before shamefully remaining where he stood. "Azula isn't the answer. Neither is betraying me or your uncle," your gaze softened slightly. "You don't need anyone to give you your honor, Zuko. You never needed anyone but yourself."

Zuko looks away from you. "None of that matters now.”

You frown, sadly. “You’re right. Because I could never forgive you for this.”

Zuko’s gaze drifts back to you, lips parting mournfully, oh how he wanted to beg you to join him, maybe run away from this mess, but he was too deep in and he was so close to restoring his honor. So, he keeps his mouth shut, even as Azula and the Dai Li start advancing.

A line of fire blocks them, aiming at their feet. Iroh lands before them, in front of you and Katara. “Go!” He yells in warning, throwing flaming punches skillfully, “I’ll hold them off for as long as I can!”

You turn from Iroh sadly, nodding before spinning around quickly, “Come on!” You help get Katara to her feet with Aang in hand, she stands on shaking feet and begins to bend water to encircle you all when you step out as she begins to go up. 

She gasps, “What’re you doing?!” She can’t lose concentration unless they’ll drop, she yells to your worriedly. “You can still make it, come on, please!”

“Go, Katara!” You yell to her, throwing a fire ball at an approaching Dai Li agent, “Be safe! Save him.” You turn to her one last time as she tearfully look you in the eye, you’re smiling. Before bursting upwards in her spiral of water with Aang.

They disappear from view and Iroh is encased in crystal as his attacks settle upon ensuring the escape of the two. He looks at you as you look to him, confused. “You were supposed to go, lotus,” he says softly, almost sadly. 

You smile faintly, fists dropping as your flames subside. “I couldn’t let you be alone,” You hum, tiredly. Iroh’s eyes glow in their love but in their sadness as well, until they meet his nephew’s and they burn with sorrow. Your body quickly encasing in crystals as you both give up to the fire nation.

Carried off to become prisoners of the fire nation, your eyes can never meet Zuko’s consumed with sadness and anger, tears come to your eyes upon each time he comes to your cell to speak with you. Tears fall when he begs you to say something. And you sob when he leaves with angry screams of the choices he’s made and the things that's led him here.

Zuko wasn’t sure of it yet, but he picked the wrong side.

[raineydays411]

Oh, what am I supposed to do without you

Loki x daughter!reader

Summary: Loki thought he was in a good place. He was married, happy and having a child. He should’ve known the universe wasn’t that kind.

A/N: God I’m so sorry about this one lol. Not much of the reader but I will be  making a second part. I hope yall like this one though. Inspiration came from “Mr, Loverman” and this fic.

Master list

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The silence was rattling. It creeped into the room, slowly,menacingly. Threatening to make him go mad. It wrapped around his body like a familiar friend. Making it hard for him to breath as it suffocated him. He knew they were staring at him. Trying to figure out what he would do next, whether he would break or not. Truthfully he didn’t know what he would do. For now he just starred as well. Not at them, of course not. He stared at the one thing that mattered. His reason for waking up and living. The one person in this entire universe who gave his world color. He reached out to touch her. Touch the hands that were always so warm against his cold skin. Hands that held his firm and sure as she pulled him along behind her, a smile on her beautiful face. Hands that were now cold and limp, the radicant glow she had been known for gone dark. The colors she brought to his world dimmed to dull, gre, muted hues. Then a sound broke through the silence. two sounds actually. One a wail of new life, a baby taking her first breaths, and another. A wail of a man who has lost everything. A wail of agony and pain.

As the healers bustled around him, Loki had only one thought in his head. 

“What am I supposed to do without you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three months later and Loki still felt the emptiness left by his love. He heard her at night, humming sweet melodies as she stroked his hair. He hears her heartbeat as he eventually falls asleep, worn out by his constant tears. His room is in shambles, his clothes strewn about the floor, furniture smashed, everything is destroyed. Except for the things that belong to her. Her silk dresses that draped on her body perfectly were still hanging, untouched. The books she spent hours reading and re-reading remained on the shelf, collecting dust as they were no longer used. He doesn’t let anyone in their chambers. The space where they both shared. Space where they fought, made up, made love. To let someone else in would be tainting it. Soiling the memories they made together. That was one thing he could never do.

Another was look at the little monster who is responsible for this tragedy.

It was a girl. The daughter of one Loki Odinson and his beloved. 

Ironic. This child was supposed to bring happiness with its birth. Not even cleaned and it already managed to take away Loki’s light. He can barely stand looking at it. He tried, of course  he tried. But within minutes he had to call the nurse to take it away. Why? 

Because she has her mothers eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Loki”

“Get out”

“Loki, it's been nine months since your child was--”

“THAT THING IS NO CHILD OF MINE”

Frigga was taken aback. She knew her son was heartbroken, devastated at the loss of his wife. But to disown his daughter, that was something she didn’t see coming. 

“Loki, you are being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable? My wife has died because if that creature--”

“It is a child. A babe who has no idea who her father nor her mother is.”

“And as far as I’m concerned she never will!” Loki shouts, finally looking up at his mother. 

Frigga heart breaks for her son. She sees the utter agony he is in, the inner torment going on in his soul. Even if she didn’t see it in his face, the state of his room and self gives it away. He looks like he hasn’t bathed in the nine months that has passed. His clothes were rumpled and wrinkled, hair unkempt and wild. His face was pale and hollow, as if he was only eating enough to survive. He had dark bags under his eyes that showed that he hasn’t been sleeping well.  He truly was a man who was broken, almost beyond repair. 

“My son” Frigga said carefully,” I can never understand the pain you are going through, I pray to Valhalla I will not have to anytime soon. But please if not for yourself or that child, for the memory of her, attempt to see your daughter before making a rash decision.” And with that, she walked out of his chamber, leaving Loki to the silence again as he stared at the spot his mother stood. considering her words, he got up. picked up his room, went to bathe and walked out of the room for the first time in nine months. 

His face held no emotion as he walked down the hallways. He saw the servants stop and stare at him, shock filled their face as they saw the prince. He glared at them, sending them scurrying at the dark glance. He reached the nursery, the maid who oversaw the nursery tried to stop him. 

“My lord, you--” 

“Where is the child.” He said, calm and cool. The maid looked at him in fear, not knowing how to respond. At her silence, Loki scoffed and pushed her away, marching into the nursery. Upon entering he froze, memories of him and his beloved discussing the design they wanted for their child

**“Darling, why does the color shade matter? It’s not like the child has expectations.”

Laughter fills the air, “Loki, we must put every effort into showing our child they are loved. That includes finding the perfect shade of green to go with the room”

Loki looks at his wife, gently smiling.”If you say so my dear”**

The room was perfect. The walls were a beautiful shade of green that allowed the light into the room. There were vines and flowers crawling up the walls and draped over curtains. A white and gold crib stood in the middle of the chamber. A veil draped over it, preventing Loki from seeing the child inside. He was thankful as he worked up the courage to walk up to it. He looked out the window, seeing the stars that covered the sky, the lights of Asgard covering the earth. 

She would have loved it.

He took a deep breath and walked toward the crib. He pulled back the veil only to see that there was no child in there. 

“The babe is with your mother my lord.”

He turned to the maid. Embarrassed that she might have witnessed him reminiscing.

“And where is my mother” He asked

“In-in the dining hal--” 

He walked away before she was able to finish her sentence. He took long strides to the hall, wondering his his mother had tricked him into eating with the family.On the way, he passed a window overlooking the garden. He thinks of the times where he used to sit in it and listen to her read.

***  “...exquisite, in question more. These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows”

“My love, why do you insist on reading these midgardian stories?”

Her laughter  reaches his ears, “Because beloved, it's a different perspective to something familiar”

“Oh? and what is that ?” 

“Love”  ***

“oki--”

Hearing his name, Loki is brought back to present times once more. He looks to see Thor, watching him with careful eyes. 

“Brother, it is wonderful to see you.”

“I wish I can say the same.”

Thor laughs, a soft chuckle compared to the booming laughter Loki knows he is capable of. 

“Ah Loki, your dry wit has been missed”

Loki rolls his eyes and starts walking and Thor follows. The two walking in silence. 

“What is it like?” Loki says softly. Thor looks at him in confusion.

“It?” 

“The child.”

“Oh brother, Y/n is--”

“Y/n?” 

That was the name she wanted. If they were to have a girl. She was determined, seeing the name in the book she loved to read. He remembers when they were telling his family she was with child.

*** Everyone was seated, servants bustling around the long table. Laughter filled the hall as the sun was setting. 

“Loki, you said you had news to tell us” Frigga said, taking a sip of her wine. 

Loki smiled, looking at his wife. Her face absolutely radiant as she flashes a smile of pure joy.

“ Well,” Loki waits till Thor has taken a large swig of ale, “ My beloved and are are expecting a child.” 

Gasps fill the room as well as Thor's hacking, ale being spewed on the table. 

“Oh Loki that is wonderful!!”  Frigga exclaims standing from her seat to embrace him. “Oh my dear, this is the most wonderous news,” 

“BROTHER I can’t believe it!” Thor exclaims, lifting Loki in a crushing hug. And for once, he didn’t mind it.  He turns to her and hugs her more gently. “ You are just full of surprises aren’t you, starlight”

Laughter, “Thor, I thought I told you to stop calling me that”

Silence fills the hall as Odin clears his throat, “ Loki, you have made me proud.”

Loki smiles as his love beams at him. 

“Thank you father.”**

They reached the dining hall. A cold feeling formed in the pits of his stomach. He can see his mother, talking with a maid as she bounces the child. He can’t see it, as Frigga's back is turned to him. Odin’s presence is notably absent, a small relief on Loki's part. 

Thor notices his brother’s nerves, he pats him on the back and says, “You can do this Loki.” Then walks off to join his mother. He kisses his mothers cheek and smiles at the child. He picks her up, bouncing her a few times  prompting a small laugh. Loki gimances at the sound. 

Thor walks up to him with the baby. 

“Loki, this is Y/n Odinson”

He looks at the child. He takes in its features, Beautiful curly hair, already thick and voluminous even at this age. Brown skin, unblemished and clean. Cheeks, chubby with baby fat. And...its eyes. Those damn eyes, he could barely stand it, (e/c) eyes, the same as his lost love. In fact, almost all it’s features that once belonged to his darling. A pain filled his body. He really couldn’t stand looking at this child. 

Not when his beloved wasn’t there to gaze upon their child as well. 

No, this was not his child. Not anymore. 

“Get rid of it.” 

Shock filled the faces of both Thor and Frigga. 

“Loki you cannot be serious.”

“Brother..”

“I SAID GET RID OF IT” Loki shouts. “I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THAT LITTLE MONSTER.” 

And with that he leaves the dining hall. Leaving behind  his mother, brother and the last piece of his wife he had. He hears it’s cries fill the silence.

He had only one thought in his head as he entered his chambers.

“What am I supposed to do without you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lovelydiamond-cake]

For the ship thing: yogurt cream and lilac

Random thought- if Yogurt cream was in kingdom he'd probably be a support.

I physically can't see him as anything else

Tk scenario #1

Lilac kinda just relaxing because he a tiring day with the energetic prince, but then Yogurt cream barges in wondering where his beautiful bodyguard boyfriend is.

Once he sees him, he jumps on the bed with Lilac and starts going on and on about what they should do tomorrow. Either it being gambles or looking at pretty sights(Which always involves in Yogurt talking about himself and the new riches he found)

Lilac, who doesn't want to hear about tomorrow's adventures, simply just turns over to his prince and stared at his body

Was he always that exposed?

And why does he look so soft?

With those two questions in mind, this random urge to squish the prince's body rapidly grew.

"And! How can I forgot!! We can go to that hotel again! You know how much I- Oh! Aww!! Lilac! I didn't know you wanted to cuddle!!"

For a while, absolutely nothing that the playful prince said was entering Lilac's head.

"Ooo! I always forget how strong you are! You're hugging me so tight!"

"I'm making sure you don't protest."

"Protest? Why would I protest such a wonderful feeling!!

"You tend to get jumpy when I do things like this"

Yogurt cream ignored what Lilac said and snuggled deeper into his bare skin. It was nice and his body heat made Cream feel so warm and content.

Oh how he loves moments like this.

"Ah- Lilac what are you do-hoing?"

No response, Lilac's grip only tightened to make sure Yogurt wouldn't move as much.

"Wahahit!! Li-LAahah" he Giggled, squealing every so often when Lilac pinched to quickly.

Lilac ignored the prince's protest, only pinching quicker.

He was right. His body was soft.. and squishy in some area's.

His focus was so tied on the prince's body texture, he didn't even realize the Prince's actual state in tickly agony.

Tk scenario #2

Yogurt cream was tracing Lilac's face, later to do his body, and a way to relax after all the fun they had today.

Fun was a the last word Lilac would use to describe today, but at least he gets rewarded with his lover's affection.

He would never say it out loud, but moments like this was the best part of the day. He gets to relax; sleep almost, Yogurt cream is too busy outlining every part of his face to speak about for eventful today was, the warm from Yogurt cream's body was comforting. It was just perfect.

"Ngh-"

Lilac opened his eyes to see Yorgurt had stop tracing his face and went to a scar the was laced across his ribs.

"Oh! My apologies did that hurt?"

It didn't hurt no, but it did feel weird. He never felt something like that before..

"No.. you may continue of you'd like."

Without further question Yorgurt Cream continued.

This time Lilac was more alert in what Yorgurt was doing.

"Ah-!"

"Hm? Oh! Did I hurt you again?"

"No- no I don't understand what your doing.."

Every time Yorgurt Cream softly touched one of his many scars, he would react.

And he didn't have a clue why.

"I'm only touching you! You know, the way you like it!"

He wasn't wrong, this was the way Lilac liked to be touched, but the second he was touched in a certain area, he felt this odd tingly feeling that triggered something in his chest.

"You gotten a lot of new scars lately.."

"haAAah"

....

Well that was embarrassing..

And the expression Yorgurt had on his face didn't make it any better.

"Do that again!! I don't think you every let out that much emotion!!"

Before Lilac could deny it, Yorgurt brushed his hand against his scars again cause an even bigger light breathy laugh.

"Oh my goodness!! You should do that more often- where.. where are you.."

"My service here is done Goodnight Yorgurt Cream."

"Wha- No! I wanna do it again-! Why are you running!???"

I have no idea how to end the second one.

Thank you for the ask!!