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horeformilfs · 9 months

Text

Save me

WandaNat x Fem!Avenger Reader

TW: Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Drowning

Translations:

любимая = Beloved

Дорогой = Darling

Моя любовь = My Love

мой ангел = My Angel

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The quinjet rumbled as it soared through the evening sky, the aftermath of a mission lingering heavily in the air. Y/N sat in silence, staring out of the window, her thoughts drowning in a tempest of self-doubt and frustration. Despite the mission's success, Steve's reproach echoed in her mind, each word carving deeper into the wounds they'd been hiding.

Wanda Maximoff, sensing the heaviness in the air, slid closer to Y/N, intertwining their fingers. "Hey," she whispered, her voice a soft caress. "You know Steve can be harsh sometimes. Don't let it get to you."

Y/N managed a faint smile, appreciating Wanda's attempt to console her, but the darkness within remained unspoken. Natasha Romanoff, seated across from the two, shot a concerned glance her way. Y/N averted her gaze, unwilling to let anyone see the turmoil within.

As the jet continued its journey back to the compound, Steve, unable to let the matter rest, confronted Y/N again. "This is a team, Y/N! We depend on each other. You can't afford to make reckless decisions like that."

Natasha, always protective, stepped in, "Steve, ease up. We all made it out fine."

Ignoring Natasha's plea, Steve continued his admonishment. Y/N, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders, fought to hold back tears. Wanda squeezed her hand, offering silent support, but Y/N abruptly withdrew.

Natasha, observing the sudden change, leaned toward Wanda and asked in a hushed tone, "Is Y/N okay?"

Wanda shook her head subtly, her concern mirroring Natasha's. She glanced at Y/N, who had moved to a different part of the quinjet, staring into the distance. Natasha excused herself and approached Y/N cautiously.

"Hey," Natasha said softly, concern etched in her eyes. "You can't keep everything bottled up. What's going on?"

Y/N hesitated, the weight of her unspoken struggles threatening to spill over. "It's nothing, Nat. Just tired."

Natasha saw through the facade, but before she could press further, Wanda joined them. "Everything alright?" she asked, her eyes flickering between Y/N and Natasha.

Y/N forced a smile, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, just tired."

Wanda, sensing the evasion, decided not to push, but the worry lingered in her gaze. As the quinjet descended towards the Avengers' compound, the unspoken tension within the team remained, a storm waiting to be weathered.

The compound's landing pad greeted the quinjet with a soft hum as it touched down. Y/N, still grappling with the emotional fallout of the mission and Steve's stern words, stepped off the aircraft, leaving the conversation suspended in the air.

Nick Fury, a stern expression etched on his face, awaited Y/N. "Agent Y/L/N, my office. Now."

Y/N exchanged a quick, worried glance with Nat and Wanda before nodding and following Fury. The redheads shared an anxious look, their concern growing as Y/N disappeared from view.

In Fury's office, the atmosphere was heavy with tension. Nick wasted no time in listing every perceived mistake during the mission. Y/N listened in silence, internalizing the criticism, each word adding another layer to the self-doubt she was trying so desperately to conceal. When the reprimand concluded, Fury dismissed Y/N with a curt nod, leaving her alone to grapple with the weight of her perceived failures.

Returning to her shared room, Y/N found Nat and Wanda sitting on the bed, a palpable worry etched across their faces. Without a word, Y/N moved towards the bathroom, needing a moment to collect herself.

Natasha, her gaze following Y/N, sighed, "дорогой, what's going on? You're not fine."

Wanda, leaning against Natasha, added, "Моя любовь, we can see something's bothering you. Talk to us."

Y/N emerged from the bathroom, the facade still intact. "It's nothing, really. Just a rough day."

Natasha frowned, concern deepening. "Don't shut us out, дорогой. We're here for you."

Wanda nodded, her eyes pleading. "Моя любовь, we care about you. Whatever it is, we can face it together."

Y/N hesitated, the weight of her struggles conflicting with the desire to protect the ones she cared about. "It's just... a lot. I'll be okay, I promise."

Natasha and Wanda exchanged glances, unconvinced but respecting Y/N's choice for now. Y/N offered a weak smile, attempting to reassure them. "I just need some time to clear my head. Thanks for understanding."

The aroma of pizza wafted through the Avengers' common room, where the team had gathered for their weekly pizza and game night. Natasha and Wanda, dressed casually for the occasion, approached Y/N, who seemed lost in thought.

"Hey, Y/N, pizza's here. Game night's starting soon. You coming?" Natasha asked with a playful smile.

Y/N looked up, weariness evident in her eyes. "Nah, I think I'll pass tonight. Just really tired and could use some sleep."

Wanda exchanged a concerned glance with Natasha, but they respected Y/N's decision. "Alright, if you need anything, we'll be downstairs. Take care," Wanda said, leaning in to kiss Y/N gently on the cheek. Natasha followed suit, leaving a lingering kiss on Y/N's forehead.

As the hour passed, laughter and the clatter of board game pieces echoed from below. Y/N, lying in bed, couldn't shake the sense of isolation that gripped her. Faint strains of joy reached her ears, intensifying the ache of loneliness within.

Unable to resist the curiosity, Y/N decided to check on the festivities. Slipping out of bed, she quietly descended the stairs and peeked around the corner. The sight of the team sharing laughter and camaraderie only deepened Y/N's sense of alienation.

A heavy sigh escaped Y/N as she turned to leave, footsteps echoing her retreat. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Natasha noticed their departure, nudging Wanda to glance in the direction of Y/N's retreating figure.

"Something's not right," Natasha murmured, concern etching her features.

Wanda nodded, her eyes following Y/N. "Let's check on her."

The two redheads hurriedly excused themselves, making their way to catch up with Y/N. However, by the time they reached the compound's entrance, Y/N was nowhere in sight.

"Y/N!" Wanda called out, but the night swallowed their words.

Natasha scanned the surroundings, worry etched on her face. "She couldn't have gone far. Let's split up and find her."

Unbeknownst to Natasha and Wanda, Y/N, grappling with a storm of emotions, had ventured into the quiet darkness outside the compound, feeling like a solitary star in a vast, lonely sky.

The night enveloped the compound in a somber embrace as Y/N walked the familiar trail to the lake. The water, usually a source of solace, reflected the moon's gentle glow. Y/N's footsteps echoed in the quiet, each step heavy with the burden she carried.

As Y/N reached the lake, dark thoughts clawed at the edges of her mind, whispering lies of inadequacy and isolation. The water's surface mirrored the turmoil within, rippling with each conflicting emotion.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Wanda, attuned to the depths of her thoughts, felt a sudden jolt of concern. She sought out Natasha, urgency etched in her expression. "Nat, something's wrong with Y/N. I can hear her thoughts, and it's not good."

Natasha, instantly alert, nodded. "Let's find her. Fast."

Together, they traversed the compound, their search fueled by a shared determination to reach Y/N before it was too late.

Meanwhile, Y/N, standing at the water's edge, contemplated the dark abyss within and beyond. The weight of her struggles pushed her toward a perilous decision. In the solitude of the night, the lake seemed to beckon, offering an escape from the storm within.

Wanda and Natasha, guided by an unsettling intuition, pressed on. Natasha's voice broke the silence as they moved with purpose. "We have to find Y/N before..."

Wanda finished the thought, her worry evident. "Before it's too late."

As Y/N waded into the water, fully clothed, the coldness biting at her skin, the gravity of her actions began to sink in. Yet, the relentless darkness within urged her forward, drowning out reason and hope.

Wanda's eyes widened as the echoes of Y/N's thoughts intensified. "Nat, we're running out of time."

Natasha quickened her pace, fear gnawing at her. "We have to find her now."

At the water's edge, Y/N ventured further, oblivious to the silent urgency echoing through the night. With each step, the water's embrace grew colder, and the depths seemed to welcome her into a haunting embrace.

The water closed in around Y/N, reaching her neck as fatigue weighed heavily on her limbs. The struggle to stay afloat became a losing battle, and the haunting depths of the lake seemed to embrace her with a chilling finality.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Wanda combed through the woods, searching for any sign of Y/N. Wanda's eyes widened in realization. "I remember. There's a lake Y/N used to go to when things got tough. She has to be there."

Natasha, fueled by a surge of concern, urged Wanda to lead the way. "Let's go. We need to find her."

In the dark waters, Y/N's final reserves of strength gave out. She surrendered to the depths, letting the cold water seep into her lungs. Consciousness waned, and the world faded to a surreal blur.

As Natasha and Wanda reached the lake, the sight of Y/N's abandoned shoes on the edge sent shivers down their spines. Wanda's eyes scanned the water's surface, catching a subtle disruption near the middle of the lake.

"There," she pointed to Natasha, urgency in her voice. Without hesitation, both women plunged into the water, swimming with determined strokes toward the disturbance in the otherwise tranquil lake.

Natasha's voice broke the silence, her concern palpable. "Y/N!"

Wanda echoed the call, her desperation fuelling her movements. "Y/N, where are you?"

The moonlight danced on the water's surface as they searched, driven by the fear of losing their girlfriend. The lake, once a haven for Y/N, now held a silent secret beneath its depths, as Natasha and Wanda raced against time to bring Y/N back from the edge.

Wanda dove beneath the surface, the cold water enveloping her as she searched for any sign of Y/N. Her senses heightened, she felt a faint brush against her, and her heart leaped. She moved swiftly, hand extended, until her fingers closed around something solid. As she pulled it towards her, relief surged through her when she realized it was Y/N's hand.

Breaking through the surface, Wanda clutched Y/N to her chest. Natasha, seeing the distress on Wanda's face, swam over to assist. Wanda struggled to keep Y/N afloat, her arms wrapped protectively around the younger woman.

Natasha's expression mirrored the urgency of the situation. "Wanda, fly Y/N back to the shore. Start CPR. I'll swim back and meet you there."

Wanda nodded, determination in her eyes. With a burst of energy, she levitated herself and Y/N out of the water, flying towards the shore as fast as she could. Natasha propelled herself through the water, a powerful swimmer on a mission.

As Wanda landed on the shore, she cradled Y/N in her arms, laying her gently on the ground. Panic and relief mingled in her eyes as she started CPR, each compression accompanied by whispered words of encouragement.

Natasha emerged from the water, swiftly joining Wanda. " I'll take over."

Wanda, tears streaming down her face, nodded and stepped back. Natasha seamlessly continued the lifesaving efforts, the rhythmic compressions and breaths punctuating the tense silence. The fate of their girlfriend hung in the balance, and as Natasha worked to revive Y/N, the night seemed to hold its breath.

Natasha continued the lifesaving measures, the rhythm of compressions and breaths a desperate cadence against the quiet backdrop of the night. Wanda, her voice steady despite the urgency, dialed Bruce Banner, urgency lacing her words. "Banner, we need the med bay ready. It's Y/N. Hurry."

Y/N, caught between the realms of consciousness and oblivion, finally expelled water from her lungs. Wanda and Natasha, relief etched on their faces, surrounded her, coaxing her back to the present.

Natasha whispered, her voice a gentle reassurance, "Дорогой, stay with us. You're gonna be okay."

Y/N, seeking solace in the familiar, inched closer to Wanda, the redhead's presence a comforting anchor. Wanda, her arms encircling Y/N, whispered sweet nothings, her words a balm to the turmoil within. "Моя любовь, you're safe now. We've got you."

As Wanda lifted Y/N into her arms, carrying her like a precious burden, Natasha draped her jacket over Y/N's shivering form. They embarked on the hurried journey back to the compound, the weight of Y/N's quiet apologies hanging in the air.

Y/N, struggling to stay awake, murmured softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Wanda tightened her hold, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Shh, любимая, it's okay. We're here for you."

Natasha added, her voice firm yet soothing, "No apologies, мой ангел. We've got you, and we're going to take care of you."

The night held their collective breath as they rushed towards the compound, the echoes of the lake's silent secret gradually giving way to a glimmer of hope.

Upon reaching the compound, Natasha and Wanda hurriedly carried Y/N to the med bay, where Bruce Banner awaited their arrival. The atmosphere in the room shifted, tense yet focused, as the two redheads gently laid Y/N on the examination table.

Bruce, his usual calm demeanor replaced by concern, immediately started assessing Y/N's condition. "What happened?"

Wanda, her voice trembling slightly, explained, "Y/N went to the lake, and we found her in the water. We need to make sure she's okay."

Bruce nodded, directing the medical team to assist. "I'll take it from here. Give us some space, but stay close. We might need you."

Natasha and Wanda exchanged a worried glance before reluctantly stepping back, their eyes never leaving Y/N's unconscious form. As the medical team worked, the room buzzed with tension, each passing moment intensifying the weight of the night's events.

Wanda's fingers interlaced with Natasha's, the silent communication between them reflecting shared concern. Natasha pulled Wanda into a reassuring hug, their unspoken support a lifeline amidst the uncertainty.

After what felt like an eternity, Bruce finally turned towards them. "Y/N will be okay. She expelled most of the water, but we'll keep Her under observation for a while. She need rest."

Relief washed over Natasha and Wanda, the gravity of the situation slowly lifting. They entered the recovery room where Y/N lay, pale yet breathing steadily. Wanda took a seat by Y/N's side, and Natasha joined her, the unspoken bond between them palpable.

As Y/N began to stir, Natasha brushed a strand of hair from her face, whispering, "Hey there, мой ангел. You gave us a scare."

Y/N's eyes met Wanda's, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. "I'm sorry," she whispered, the weight of her earlier apologies lingering.

Wanda leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead. "No need for apologies, любимая. We're just glad you're back with us."

Natasha and Wanda sat on either side of the bed, their eyes filled with concern and love as Y/N recounted the harrowing events at the lake.

Wanda spoke first, her voice soft yet firm, "Y/N, we care about you. You're not a burden, and your problems are never 'stupid.' We're your girlfriends, and we want to be there for you, no matter what."

Natasha added, her gaze steady, "You don't have to face everything alone. We're a team, remember? Lean on us when you need to."

Y/N looked down, her fingers nervously playing with the sheets. "I just didn't want to bother you. It felt like I was drowning in my own thoughts, and I didn't want to drag you down with me."

Wanda reached for Y/N's hand, squeezing it gently. "Your thoughts and feelings matter to us. You're not a burden, and we want to help carry the weight together."

Y/N nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. "I understand. Thank you both."

Natasha, always pragmatic, stood up. "Alright, enough serious talk for now. I'm going to get us some coffee and soup. You two stay put."

As Natasha left the room, Wanda shifted to lie next to Y/N. She tenderly ran her fingers through Y/N's hair, placing soft kisses on their forehead. "You're safe now, любимая. We're here for you, always."

Y/N let out a sigh, leaning into Wanda's touch. "Can... can you cuddle with me?"

Wanda smiled, her eyes full of warmth. "Of course, моя любовь."

Natasha returned with a tray, placing it on a nearby table. "Coffee for us, soup for you. Eat something, alright?"

Y/N nodded, and as Wanda curled up with them on the bed, Natasha took a seat nearby. The room was filled with the soothing aroma of coffee, the gentle murmur of their voices, and the unspoken assurance that, in each other's company, they could weather any storm.

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globalrebrand · 2 years

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I figured youre the best person to float this idea to: giving Vil a spa day and following up with a massage. Its nothing close to the finesse of a professional, but you can do something they cant. After rubbing his back and shoulders to ease some of his stress, he asks you to ride him. The past five hours youve been pampering him has got him feeling sleepy and affectionate. Maybe after you *slowly* get him off, no fast movements tonight, he would want to do some cockwarming. I imagine he would be very sweet and vulnerable, content to let you spoil him but also greedy for more. He will be clingy, pouting whenever you leave for something. And while he may want to be the one receiving praise tonight, he will absolutely return the favor another day

Warnings: fluff, not sfw, not proofread, fem-reader. (let me know if this needs to change!)

A/N: Vil is a hard dom, and you can't change my mind, so it might not be as soft as you wanted!

Private Massage: Vil x Fem!reader

When Vil built the massage room off of your master ensuite, you thought it was the height of excess. Of course, your husband worked tirelessly between acting, modeling, and managing his thriving beauty line, but an in-house room for massage? Frankly, you didn't understand why he couldn't just go to the spa. The chateau the two of you resided in was only thirty minutes from the city and some of the best spas in Twisted Wonderland.

But he insisted that it was a basic necessity of his routine care, so you didn't fight him on it. And in his defense, it got frequent use.

Every other Saturday, Vil's beloved masseuse, Helene, a well-muscled middle-aged woman with strong hands that were as soft as silk, massaged him for two hours. Never failing to relieve him of the week's stresses. It was an appointment as fastidiously kept as any date or arrangement he made with you.

For all the years she'd tended to him, you'd only known one occasion where she didn't meet the scheduled appointment, and that was when her beloved dog Gus needed to be rushed to the veterinarian after tearing his way into the gourmet chocolate gift basket Vil had sent her for her birthday.

But today makes the second occasion where the sacred appointment ritual has been broken.

And your husband wasn't taking it well.

Vil stood looking wistfully picturesque in his monogrammed quilted lilac silk robe as he stared longingly out of the french doors to the balcony of your master suite. A rather difficult task considering that snow had piled up outside nearly five feet overnight.

"Darling," you cooed, sneaking up behind him, the swishing sound of the silk of your matching (also monogrammed) robe rubbing against his startling from his gloomy reverie. Rising on your toes and placing a kiss and the sensitive patch of skin beneath his ear, you prepared to offer consolations.

"No one could make it in this blizzard, and to insist that Helene come would be barbaric."

"I know that." He snapped, to which you responded by drawing his face to yours to ensure he witnessed the reflexive and highly indignant raising of your eyebrows. Long ago, Vil learned that kind of curtness got him nowhere with you.

"I'm sorry, my love, it's just I was really looking forward to our appointment today. You know better than anyone how hard this past week has been on me."

It's true. Vil really had put himself through the gauntlet the past month. He just finished filming a slate of commercials and shooting print ads for a new line of designer sunglasses he was just hired to be the face of, on top of sitting through a host of meetings with potential investors for his cosmetic brand and even hosting the Fashion Awards in the capital of the Queendom or Roses just a few nights ago.

So after forcing himself through handfuls of business lunches, after parties, and after after parties. He was a ball of tension and exhaustion in reasonably dire need of a massage.

"Of course, I understand." You murmured into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him in an attempt to soothe his tension when the perfect solution dawned on you. Craning your neck to whisper in your husband's ear, you offered a solution.

"What if I gave you a massage instead?"

His rejection was immediate.

"That's thoughtful little one, but let's be honest. There's about a 90% chance you fuck up my back, so badly no masseuse will be able to work out the knots." Vil cooed as he moved from the window and out of your embrace, leaving you to pout by the windows alone. But you weren't deterred. Even if you weren't the best masseuse in the country, you had your own ways of making your husband relax.

"Oh, well, that's a shame…" You sighed, turning the take up the mantle by the windows your husband previously occupied.

"Darling, I wasn't trying to be insensitive, but Helene is a masseuse with 40 years of experience." Vil was clearly exasperated, annoyed by your pout since obviously you weren't qualified to work on his back. Whether you were his spouse or not didn't matter. It was just his pragmatism.

"I couldn't even change your mind if I did it in that new white lingerie set?" You spoke softly, coquettishly, offering him only a demure and questioning glance.

Your question, paired with your coy expression, quickly delivered the results you were after.

The change in his attitude was instantaneous. For the first time all afternoon, he perked up and turned away from the exit of your shared room.

"The sheer dotted set? With the ouvert panties?" He questioned as if to confirm you were both on the same page regarding the set in question.

"Mmhmm." You nodded nonchalantly.

"With the garters and lacy thigh highs?" He asked, his expression now entirely focused on you. "That's a silly question. After all-"

"What would be the point without them?" You both intoned in unison.

"It was my birthday set, and I just got it, so I was saving it for a special occasion, but what better occasion could there be than blessing my beloved husband with my first foray into massage."

He raised an eyebrow as if to wordlessly say, 'you're laying it on a bit thick, but from his anticipatory posture, you could tell he'd bought your little act.

"Hmm, fine, but I'll be giving critiques on your technique."

"You wouldn't be the man I married if you didn't." You chirped as you pulled the set out of the drawer and dashed into the bathroom to prepare, running past your husband with girlish glee.

A scant half an hour later and the mood was set. Aromatic candles were lit, lightly perfuming the space.

You dressed in the aforementioned set, with heels and light jewelry that wouldn't get in the way of your work. A pair of white gold hoop earrings and a dainty matching chain with a small V and amethyst on it.

You were watching some videos of proper full body massage techniques when the door to the room slid open, and in walked your husband, freshly showered with a towel loosely affixed around his hips. "Now, this sight is far more enchanting than my normal appointment," Vil remarked, seeing your ass in the scandalous panties. Your lush curves were put on display for him as you leaned over the cupboard while you watched videos on your phone.

"Helene would be crushed to hear you say that." You teased, still transfixed on the videos before you.

"That set makes your ass look fantastic," Vil added, placing a hand on the exposed fat of your rear.

You swatted his hand away. Not wanting him to spoil the session by completely forgoing the massage.

That's not why we're here, you remind him. Turning around and plucking the headphones from your ears, you put your phone away so you can focus on the task at hand.

You pressed on your husband's shoulders, gently urging him onto the massage table.

"I'm not here to rile you. I'm here to relax you." You reminded him. "Well, if you think you can. Do your best, my love." That was generally the closest to encouragement that Vil came, but you knew better than to take him at his word. He was obviously excited if the bulge of his half-hard cock beneath his towel was any indicator.

"Don't worry, I will. The channel drmasseur on spelltube taught me everything I need to know."

"On second thought-"

"Shhh..stop! Lay down. Don't be mean. I was only teasing." You chided. "On your front."

Begrudgingly, your husband obeyed.

Warming the basil and lemongrass lotion in your hands, you started with long strokes from his ankle to his knees, testing the amount of pressure.

"You can go a bit harder, my love."

Wordlessly you obeyed, applying more pressure again his long sinews and working into a comfortable rhythm. It wasn't as difficult as you thought it would be. After all, you were likely tied with his masseuse in knowledge of all of his sensitive areas, though your knowledge was of a much more explicit nature. After spending ample on his calf, you moved to do the same motion on his thigh, eliciting a groan as you pressed your thumbs into the back of his muscles.

"You're not as bad as I would've thought," Vil noted and slightly impressed air to his voice. He was quick to add-

"Nowhere near as good as Helene, might I add, but this has been pleasurable."

"And I do so seek to please you, husband." You whispered sultrily.

Vil hummed contentedly at your words and fell back into silence.

The better part of an hour passed, and you moved on from his legs to his arms, diligently repeating the same strokes as you did on his legs before and finally reaching his shoulders and back.

You were pleased with how well this little experiment was going. Vil seemed reasonably relaxed.

He threw out a critique here and there, but for the most part, he seemed content with your work.

Climbing on the table, you straddled his pert and bare upturned ass to get better leverage as you worked on his back.

"I know drmasseur didn't instruct you to do this."

"Perhaps not in his normal videos, but I was watching one to teach the art of erotic massage." You whispered in his ear before pressing a dramatic kiss to his temple.

Settling your weight fully on his rear, you both gasped as the wetness that had seeped through the opening of your panties made itself apparent through the skin-to-skin contact.

Your husband groaned but otherwise said nothing.

You quickly got into a deliberate routine, working on his lower back and subtly grinding against him with each fluid stroke of your hands in an attempt to soothe a bit of your own arousal. It shouldn't have come as a surprise just how quickly grinding your clit against your husband's skin.

But midway through your work, your husband stopped you.

"It's time for you to work on my front."

“But I haven't even gotten to-.”

He tapped your thigh to urge you off of him and then turned on his back, revealing the massive erection he was sporting.

Before you could even speak, he lifted a finger to silence you.

"I presume you know what you need to do."

"Of course, my love." You cooed, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. But Vil was apparently much more desperate than he let on as he was quick to rake his fingers through your hair to deepen the kiss. His tongue sensuously probing for yours. He releases you, panting slightly, and quickly offers his following command.

"Get to work."

Wait- He stops you before you can climb atop the massage table.

He brings a hand to your sex, testing your wetness with lithe fingers.

"Sevens, you're so shameless. You're more than wet enough to take me." He remarks, a certain pride to his words.

"How could I not when my husband is so beautiful." You always give Vil the validation he wants. The way it makes him preen and stand even straighter never fails to put a smile on your face.

Vil offers a hand to help stabilize you as you straddle him, your knees pressing into the soft leather of the table's surface.

You waste no time lining yourself up and sinking down on his cock in a practiced motion. The both of you moan in harmony at the sensation despite having felt it hundreds (if not thousands of times before).

Your walls seize around his length instinctively as they flutter in an ever-desperate attempt to accommodate his girth.

"You're so beautiful, Vil." coos, affectionately stroking your cheek. You close your eyes, relishing in the softness of his touch. Your sessions with Vil were only on occasion this tender.

"I hate it when people ask you how you got so lucky. Those fools don't realize just how lucky I am to have you." Vil is addressing you with his sweet words, but you are far too lost in taking him to the base of his shaft with every cant of your hips. His cock was deliciously curved towards the most sensitive parts inside of you, and you always to your time when riding him.

"My precious little wife takes such good care of me." He smiles teasingly. His finger came up to toy with a nipple concealed by the mesh of the lingerie.

"Are you paying attention to me?? He begins to scold. Clearly, you looked a little too lost in your own pleasure and not nearly admiring enough of the praises he lavished on you.

"Of course, I agree, Vil. You are lucky to have me." You open your eyes just to catch his feigned, annoyed expression.

"Come here." He demands but doesn't actually wait for your compliance.

Vil pulls the sheer cups of your lingerie under your breasts to expose your pert nipples and tugs you forward by the band, quickly taking one hardened bud between his lips and sucking tenderly as you rock back against him.

His other hand snakes down your spine before settling between your cheeks to press against your ass. You hiss at the strangely pleasurable sensation. The gesture is a small hint of Vil's sadism peaking through a more tame lovemaking session.

And as much as it turned you on, the relative taboo of the touch always sent you hurdling to orgasm in a matter of seconds.

Tentatively you tried to rise up and shoo away his hand, not wanting things to end too soon, but Vil wasn't having it. Unlatching from where he nibbled and teased your breasts, he grabbed your hair and pulled you in for a steamy kiss, but still, you turned, only allowing his lips to brush your cheek.

"No, I don't want to come too fast," you whined, slowing your motions and trying to evade your husband's persistent fingers.

"My foolish love," he simpered, his soft expression and tone encouraging you to drop your defenses and lean into his embrace. "even when you're on top of me, I call the shots." He whispered into your ear.

"Now, grind your tight little ass against my fingers while you ride my cock, understood?"

"I wanted to come at the same time." You pouted, looking into his hazy purple eyes.

"Keep riding me like that, and we will, don't worry, little one. Even I have to admit you're too tempting for your own good." You realized early in your relationship that for someone like Vil, being in control and curating his experience was cathartic. He seldom wanted anyone else calling the shot. The uncertainty made him anxious.

With his compliment, you found a small burst of motivation. Soon you got lost in the sensation of his wet fingers tracing circles on your puckered hole as you clenched against his shaft. And you realized if you bucked your hips just so your clit scraped against his toned abdomen.

Once you felt yourself hurdling off the cliff to your orgasm, you pressed as deep against your husband, feeling his tip threatening to breech your womb. Vil threw his head back as he let out a heady moan, and you, quite satisfied with your work, collapsed on top of him once your walls finally calmed, your sex feeling numb and well pleasured.

If not to relieve him of the burden of your sweat body, then to clean your both. You could feel his cum threatening to leak from your pussy, but when you moved to get off him, Vil held you firmly in place by your thighs.

"No, my love, keep me warm." He begged softly. You were never one to deny him, so with a sigh, you nestled back on top of him, tucking your head under his chin.

You two stayed silent for a good while when suddenly, a cheeky idea struck you.

"While I have you here," you began, your voice lifting Vil from his contented quiet. "Would you mind filling out a short survey about my performance today? The feedback really helps."

Fine." Vil acquiesces, opting in to play your little game.

"Rate the massage on a scale of poor to exceptional."

"It was adequate."

"Ok, rude. What could have improved your experience."

"The masseuse could have been less of a cocktease."

You tap his shoulder in chastisement. "One, you loved it, and two, that was the point."

"Oh, alright, the masseuse's lack of experience was apparent. But she more than made up for her lack of massage skill in other areas."

"Anyway, next question. Rate the sex on a scale of poor to exceptional."

"Absolutely incandescently perfect," Vil whispered as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck.

"Thank you for your feedback." You replied, turning to plant a chaste kiss on his brow.

"And final question,"

"It better be." Vil sighed in exasperation.

"Would you recommend this service to friends and family?"

Vil immediately bristled, shooting up to a sitting position, causing you to let out a quiet hiss as he moved inside you, but he seemed less bothered and more intent on addressing your question.

"Absolutely not! First of all, gross. Second of all, you're all mine."

"I know, I know, I'm just teasing. I never get tired of hearing you say it."

"Now say it back." He demanded petulantly.

"I'm all yours Vil Schoenheit."

"Good, I wouldn't have it any other way."

#vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #vil smut #vil schoenheit smut #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #my wrtitng

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thewritetofreespeech · 7 months

Text

No One's Gonna Harm You, Darling

Ascended!Astarion x Reader

summary: when Astarion turned you into his spawn, he told you that you needn't fear anything. But what about him? Ao3

The night was getting long and you still hadn’t seen Astarion. You were starting to get anxious about it.

Usually, when you woke up in the morning (night) Astarion was right there beside you. Greeting the day with you with that cheeky smile before you both set off on your chores for the day. Today he was nowhere to be found.

You had shrugged it off, though a little disgruntled at not getting your kiss and sweet ‘good morning my treasure’ first thing like normal, as you were not so conceded that you thought all of Astarion’s world revolved around you.

But after breakfast, and several hours of him not making at least an appearance, you were starting to get concerned.

His world may not revolve around you, but Astarion would never leave or disappear without telling you. On the off times during your courtship that he did have things to do, as building and running an underground empire of darkness could be time consuming, he always told you where he was going or left you a note as to not have you worried. You always told him he didn’t have to, but without those assurances this time you were starting to worry.

“Where is Astarion?” You ask one of the servants you had cornered in the hallway. They too had been suspiciously absent today.

The girl looked fretted. Seeming to debate on if she could run, or use some kind of manner of magic to disappear, but would never disrespect their Master’s consort like that. “He…He is busy, most esteemed one.”

“I figured that, but I asked where he was.” There was a furrow in the girl’s brow. A twitch of her lip. So you tell her proactively, “don’t lie to me,” and she flinched as if her hand had been smack for even thinking of the lie.

“He is in the kennels, beloved consort.”

You arch your brow quite high. The kennels?

Despite having all his new insurmountable power and complete run of the palace now, Astarion still avoided the kennels like the plague. Too many bad memories, you assume. Despite his complete renovation of an old prison into his new home, the walls still held secrets and memories unable to be masked over by a fresh coat of paint.

You leave the servant and head for the kennels. Unlike before there are no barriers to you in the palace. The two of you have no secrets.

The stench of blood and the horrors inflicted here still hang in the air. As if etched into the stone. But more than that there is a new scent of blood. Fresh and haunting. The back of your mouth watered at the smell, but you tamper it down as you follow its trail to the back of the kennels. Sounds of grunting, chains, and wet echoing off the stone to your ears until you are just behind Astarion. A knife in his hand. Stabbing repetitively over and over into some blood mass in front of him that sprayed his alabaster skin, as if you were back in the old days.

The stabbing stopped, and Astarion turned to look at you. His face goes a light when he saw you. Smiling with a jovial, “darling!” As if his face wasn’t freckled with blood. “Has it already gotten so late? I’m sorry my pet. I was just tying up some loose ends and got lost in my work.” He turned to show you what he was working on. And you felt your blood run even colder than it was. “Correcting a wrong.”

Though it’s impossible to tell anymore with how mangled his face was now, you could tell that this was the noble man from the party a few weeks ago. The one who insulted you. The one who felt the need to tell the other guests that someone of clearly such meager station & upbringing should not be the companion of someone they’ve now claimed as their own. The one who left with a gracious departure from their host and a curt regard to you as he left, thinking he was safe. Thinking that nobility and riches would keep him safe like any lord. Think the high walls of his own palace would keep anyone out as he likely slept peacefully in his bed.

He hadn’t met anyone like Astarion before.

“Now, I think we’ve established that your crimes are severe and unyielding, my lord.” The mocking sneer his almost like a serpent’s hiss as he coils around the whimpering man. “I know you’ve said many sorry up until now. Pleaded for forgiveness. Begged to your Gods.” His hand gripped the back of the man’s head by his balding hair. Turning it upward so he look at you with gapping sockets. “But it’s not me you need to apologize to. It’s my consort.” The man whimpered and sniveled as Asation leaned in by his ear and whispered, “apologize.”

He choked on the words and blood as he tried desperately to get the words out to you. See, he didn’t have a tongue anymore. You don’t know where it’s gone, but it wasn’t in his mouth. You were too terrified to ask. Astarion, however, seems to take his gargled words as the apology he was looking for and granted him the mercy that he sought by slicing his throat. What’s left of his blood spilled out over his bloated stomach as his body slumped in his manacles.

“There.” Astarion’s voice brought you back to yourself. The shock of the scene in front of you leaving you paralyzed until his words cut through your mind like the knife in his hand. “That’s that.”

He circled around from behind the corpse and came up to you. You fervently ask Astarion why he did this. Demand to know what possessed him to torture & kill a more or less innocent man. “Why?” He replied back curiously. A look of befuddlement on his handsome, blood-stained face. “He insulted you. Said those awful things in front of our guests. In our home. Did you really think I would let someone like that go to spread more of his disgusting words and bad breath about the city? About my consort.”

He took a step closer to you and you felt a subconscious pull to take a step back. It seemed you were still paralyzed in a way, however, as your legs couldn’t move. Astarion cupped his free hand to your cheek. Giving you a soft look despite the murder all around him. “No one is going to harm you, darling. Not while I’m around. Not even your feelings.”

He leaned in to kiss your forehead. So sweet and gentle that you almost forget about the blood and the murder and the smell of death in the air. He then let you go and walked past you. Some comment about needing a bath to get all this blood off, as it was too vile for consumption, and an offer for you to join him came past your ears. But you barely hear it. With Astarion gone the shock was setting back in again. Alone with what he had done on your behalf, you feel just as guilty as if you had wielded the knife.

Astarion said that no one was going to harm you while he was around. But who was going to protect you from him?

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#ascended astarion #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 ascended astarion #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 scenarios #bg3 imagine #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate scenarios #baldur's gate imagine #scenarios #imagine #tav #bg3 tav #spawn tav #tw: gore

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blakelysco-pilot · 2 months

Note

Hey bestie!!! For the oc asks (for both Val & Jo my beloveds), 👪 🎂 🎁 ☄️?

bestie thank youuuu 🥰from this emoji ask list

FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

Both Jo and Val are only children. Jo's parents stopped after her, because her mother barely made it when giving birth to Josephine. So, she's their only child- not spoiled, grew up knowing the value of hard work and a dollar. She's very close to both of her parents; her mother likes to spend time in the kitchen with her, baking cookies and cakes, and catching up over tea once. When she was little, she would make up gossip for her dolls, telling her mother just how Mister Snuffles and Lady Darling were arguing because the Lord of the manor wanted her to be all his, and didn't want to share him with Snuffles. When she's older, the gossip changes, naturally, but the sentiment never fades. Being an only child is something that she thinks about a lot, and I think sways her decision on how many children her and Rosie have. Val grew up under the watchful eye of her mother, and Nonna DiRosano- her late father's mother- after he passes away. She's young when he dies, which is why she clings so hard to Curt when they're children, and ultimately adults. He's not just a brother to her, but he's the man in her lift to protect her, the way her father would have if he was still alive. She's extremely close to both her mother and Nonna, and from an early age is brought up to be a lady (Lady Schmady, Curt would scoff, come play ball with me) and a good housewife. She learns to cook, clean her home, and bake sweets, so that when she's married one day she can do all of that for her husband. A good Italian housewife. Her signing up with the Red Cross leaves both mom and Nonna very cross with her for some time, even after they learn she'll be stationed with Curt in England, because a housewife does not go to war. But when they see her in her uniform for the first time, the pride sets in for them, and they know she's paving the way, a strong woman like they are, just in a different way.

BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

Jo is a summer baby, born under the Cancer star sign on June 13th. As a child she always loved celebrating her birthday. She would get cake, and a trinket from her parents, and Rosie would always be allowed to come over to have cake too, which was her favorite part of the whole day. During the war, she enjoys it less so, because he's not there to have cake with her, or now that they're older, go dancing at a club. She finds the magic in it again after they're married, and he wakes her with breakfast in bed, and then a night at Minton's for dinner and dancing with their friends. When they have children, it's spending the day with them that makes her heart swell. Val is fall right down to the color of her eyes. Born under the Scorpio star sign on November 8th. Children's birthdays aren't celebrated in big parties in (traditional) Italian culture, but Val always shared a meal with her mother, Nonna and the Biddick's- and she would always request Sunday Sauce, no matter the day of the week. Cake's were either homemade or if they could stretch their change, from the Italian bakery in town, and more often than not, it was a casatta cake- no fudge and frosting in their house. During the war, Everett tries to make her birthday special, even if it's a night at the pub in town, or getting the fella who plays the piano in the Officer's Club to play happy birthday while Olive holds a lighter next to a leftover donut from the truck. She cherishes those birthdays in East Anglia because they're her own traditions that she made- so much so that even when they're home, he will go out to the store early in the morning before she wakes up, and buy a single donut, and wake her up with it.

PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?

Both girls are excellent gift givers, and can often be found shopping together for someone's birthday. They will suss out the most special gifts for that special someone, sometimes needing to stretch their penny's a bit too far (sorry Rosie & Ev). The boys, while not the best at giving gifts, will always try, and most usually resort to a weekend away or dinner and dancing. When their children are born, both Jo and Val find that the homemade presents and drawings from their babies rank amongst their favorite presents ever received.

COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

Jo comes off as shy at first, but she's fiercely protective of those around her. Emotions run high with her, which is seen a lot in her letters to Rosie during the war, and her reactions to some of his letters back to her. When she learns that he's reupped (thanks Pappy) she's immediately fearing the absolute worst, calling Jean for moral support. The hours that pass see her cry, wring her hands together, and finally, she lands on stupid, stupid boy. The quiet ones are rarely ever, and Jo Harris is a prime example of that. Val comes off as the muscle, and hot headed, and you'd be fair to assume that about her. We see it when Olive and Dougie are at odds, which causes her and Ev to be at odds. But, in that hot headed, stubborn by nature Italian behavior, she's devastated and she just wants it all to stop. She wants the good back, and when she breaks down first in the arms of Benny DeMarco, and then Curt, we start to see the cracks. When we learn more of her past, and the man who truly broke her heart, we see why she's tough. Val is 5'3" with a 6'1" attitude, and she makes sure everyone knows it.

#asks answered #oc: josephine harris #oc: valencia dirosano #love letters: rosie & jo #eight to the bar: ev & val #rosie & jo #ev & val #writers on tumblr #gina baker writes #masters of the air #everett blakely #rosie rosenthal

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 3 months

Note

🎬

For Diana, please. Or George if you'd rather be MotA about this.

thanks, george!! <3 Diana my loveeee let's go

who the fandom ships them with

I mean Diana and Reg is the big one ofc, but I feel like there's definitely some people who would ship her and Stirling, too. They're so sibling coded TO ME but some people would definitely go there - Diana would be multi-shipper heaven

why the fandom loves them

Because she's cool and hot and sexy duh (also the daddy issues would make people so insane)

why the fandom hates them

idk misogyny??? there's definitely people who wouldn't like the way she treats Paddy sometimes, but like. I promise he'll be Fine

what the cast relationship would be like

Honestly it's a bit 50/50??? being pretty much the only woman in an overwhelmingly male cast can go both ways - but she kicks ass so I'm sure she'll be grand

what was their audition scene

Either the scene at the prison from Chapter 1 or the opening scene of Chapter 8 with Stirling and Randolph Churchill. They're both so DIANA - I think the ensemble banter stuff is super important to her character and making sure she can mesh with the others

dependent upon the fandom, who they’d be on a press tour/at comic con with

Diana and Kershaw panel save me 🙏

if they spoil things

Yes. Probably on purpose

Y'KNOW WHAT?? bonus George Aarons under the cut:

who the fandom ships them with

The Curt/George and Blakely/George shippers would almost certainly be fighting it out (even though the ships co-exist perfectly imo), and there'd definitely be a minority faction of George/Frankie shippers just minding their business and having a nice time on the sidelines

why the fandom loves them

Her friendship with Frankie and the role she played in getting Frankie and Rosie together would make her soooo dearly beloved. I think the shipping possibilities with her would make her super popular in fandom spaces, too.

why the fandom hates them

I can just picture people going after her for not being 100% besties with Rosie. He's such a darling of the fandom that I feel like some people would really dislike that she finds him a little offputting. SHE LIKES HIM OK!!! HE'S JUST GOT A WEIRD VIBE!!!

what the cast relationship would be like

George and Frankie platonic soulmates in every universe, what can I say?? That being said, from the MoTA cast interviews I've seen I feel like George would fit in SO well, she just matches their energy 100%

what was their audition scene

I'm thinking that scene between Rosie and George in the pub from Chapter 8. We don't get many George scenes without Frankie, and I think it's a good moment for establishing her character independently. HOWEVER - Chapter 12 flashback scenes for chemistry reads, they'd work so well for establishing that dynamic

dependent upon the fandom, who they’d be on a press tour/at comic con with

I feel like George is one one those characters you could pair with ANYONE. Obviously the George and Frankie pairing is ideal, but Frankie and Rosie would get put together 9 times out of 10. I imagine she'd end up doing press with Lemmons - they've got a pretty equal footing when it comes to importance/screentime in their story

if they spoil things

Tries super hard not to - definitely caused a scandal when she accidentally let something major slip during press

if the show/movie has ended, are they happy with their character’s ending and the ending at large

The fic hasn't ended so I won't give any details but... yes

#canon ask game #oc: diana #oc: george

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ootori-sibs · 1 year

Text

The Candor of Youth

Part 9

tw: Abuse, kidnapping, torture

When he got to Kokomi's mansion, he was already a bit worn out from how much effort it took him to keep up with Yuzuru's antics, but he always had enough energy for his beloved. The door was answered by a maid, and he was led to one of the lounges. There, Kokomi had been waiting for him, in that beautiful black and white 50's style dress of hers, silk gloves, tights and dolly shoes, her hair pulled up into an updo. That dress of hers was one of Yoshio's favourites, he'd always been a fan of the 40s and 50s. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her.

She smiled back, putting her notebook down on the sofa and stepping over to him, cupping his face in her hands. "Oh happy birthday my darling!" She giggled, squishing his face a little as she gave him a kiss on the forehead.

His cheeks flushed a light red as he swat her hands away, chuckling softly. "Thank you dear, but please don't squish me like that."

Kokomi paused for a moment, before giggling and kissing his cheek. "My little imp saying no to me? What sort of things has Souh been filling your head with, huh?"

Yoshio chuckled at that, rolling his eyes a little. "Well all we really did was play chess. I got to speak to his father, though."

She gasps, "you did? oh that's wonderful! Did he like you? You'll be doing business with him soon, you should make sure he likes you."

"Well he was very nice to me, he even played a game of chess with me."

"That's good! Did you win?"

"No, but I got close?"

"Not good enough, impy," Kokomi smiled, hand on his cheek, "you need to be smarter than him and your father's other business partners by the time you take over, okay, pet?"

He nods, sighing softly. "Yes dear, I know-"

Yoshio was interrupted by a maid coming to tell them both that dinner was ready to be served. Kokomi took his hand and led him through to the dining room. Kokomi's parents were already sitting there- that was something their families had in common; the entire family ate together, but because Kokomi was an only child, Yoshio always found it strange when he came to her house for a meal. He sat down opposite Kokomi, nodding politely to both of her parents.

"Good evening."

Mr Igerashi responded with just a grunt and a curt nod, he never liked it when Yoshio came over but put up with him at least. Yoshio did wish he liked him more, the man was rather admirable. Kokomi's mother, on the other hand, adored him. Mrs Igerashi smiles brightly at Yoshio as he sits down, "oh hello Yoshio, it's your birthday today, isn't it?"

Yoshio nodded, smiling back at her. "Yes ma'am, it is."

"Well happy birthday then, you're growing into such a handsome young man."

"Thank you ma'am, you're too kind."

Before long, dinner was served. It was some roast beef, with vegetables roasted in fat, it was all covered in a thick layer of gravy. Yoshio did enjoy European dishes like this, so he was quite happy to indulge in the juicy cut of meat, and the crispy yet somehow fluffy potatoes. The gravy was thicker than he expected, but he found himself quite enjoying it actually.

The meal went on in silence, with what appeared to be a silent conversation between Kokomi's parents going on, as Yoshio and Kokomi both tried to figure out what they were thinking. Yoshio hoped it wasn't anything about him, but he did have to contend with the fact that it could definitely be a possibility.

So, after the meal, when Mrs Igerashi pulled him aside, he wasn't too surprised.

"Yoshio, sweetheart, is everything okay..? This is the second year in a row that your family forgot your birthday." She looked concerned, a gentle hand on his shoulder as her eyes filled with worry and pity.

Yoshio sighed, "it's fine, ma'am, I'm used to it."

"..." She was silent for a moment, before sighing gently, "there's a small...rumour going around, that your father...isn't the nicest towards you. Is any of that true?"

Freezing, Yoshio wasn't sure how to respond. He knew people often looked at him with pity, he knew they must see the bruises, and the injuries... but he'd always assumed they blamed his brothers. The thought that they realised his father was to blame was... oh Yoshio couldn't explain it but he felt this overwhelming sense of relief. That people understood, that people actually noticed him, that they saw him... oh he almost felt like crying for the second time today.

Oh but if his father realised people knew the truth... Yoshio shuddered; he didn't want to think about that. He knew that if he told Mrs Igerashi the truth, then she'd try- and most likely fail, to do something about it. Which would lead to Yoshio's father finding out. So he took a breath, and responded.

"Oh no ma'am, there's nothing to worry about." He smiled politely for good measure, hoping she'd drop the topic even if she could tell he was lying.

Mrs Igerashi paused for a moment, before nodding and removing her hand from Yoshio's arm. "Alright, if you're sure. You can always come to me if you need help, alright? Run along now, Yoshio, don't keep Kokomi waiting."

Yoshio did as he was told, trotting on after his fiancee- well trotting was an overstatement for the painful limping that occurred when Yoshio tried to speed up even a little. Kokomi had retreated to her room, she seemed very excited today. Opening the door to her room, Yoshio felt a sense of unease, just like he always did. He adored his fiancee, of course he did, her room however... it never failed to spook him a little.

The walls were a dark green, with silver patterns. Her four-poster bed boasted purple velvet sheets and blackout curtains layered with white lace. She had posters on the wall of horror movies and romantic movies all the same, not to mention the little collage of photos featuring her and Yoshio. Her shelves were filled with strange artefacts and books about the occult- Yoshio didn't really believe in the occult but he had to support his darling, so that was the reason it made him feel uneasy.

He took his shoes off so he wouldn't get dirt on her beautiful plush black carpet- he wasn't sure it was real fur or not, but he thought it was pretty cool either way. Sitting down in the little armchair in her room, he took a breath; it always took him a few minutes to adjust to the room's atmosphere, and he wanted to give it the respect it deserved.

Kokomi, meanwhile, had flopped onto her bed and lay on her stomach, head resting in her hands as she kicked her legs behind her. This was her room, so of course she was so relaxed. Seeing her so laid back and comfortable in her room did help Yoshio feel a little more comfortable too, it always did.

"Impy!" She squeaked, clearly over the moon, "do you know why I'm excited?"

There it was, the uneasiness returned as if it had never left- perhaps it hadn't Yoshio knew that there was still one thing left unsaid. He didn't want to be the one to say it.

Kokomi giggled a little sitting up and gazing at him, "I said I had a gift for you, didn't I, pet?" She picked at her tights a little, looking at him happily. Yoshio's eyes were drawn to the tights, he wondered if she was picking at them on purpose... she did look incredible in them.

She walked over, and gently took Yoshio's chin, moving his head to look at her. "Eyes up here, darling." Kokomi chuckled softly, causing Yoshio to go red. "I've got the perfect birthday present for you, Yoshio."

Yoshio blinked at her; Kokomi always used pet names, so when she said his name, he took notice. She gently pulled him to his feet, "come on, impy." Giggling, Kokomi began to lead Yoshio out of the room. He didn't even consider putting his shoes back on as he followed her, able to keep pace as Kokomi had perfected the art of walking his speed.

She was so beautiful, Yoshio couldn't help but admire her form as she pulled him along. He didn't care where she was taking him, as he was pretty sure he knew what his birthday gift would be...

How did he deserve her? She was so gorgeous, so perfect and truly just... the perfect woman. He was honoured to just stand next to her, let alone to have that ring on his finger. If she was really about to let him get even closer than Yoshio was pretty sure he might just faint.

They were headed down some stairs now, so Yoshio had to focus more on where he put his cane. It was painful to tear his eyes away from his beloved fiancee, but it was slightly more painful to descend stairs with his leg playing up the way it had been today. His mind was so filled with thoughts of her, it was hard to focus on not slipping. She was so perfect, so lovely...

Getting to the bottom of the stairs meant he could look at her again. She winked at him before turning to unlock one of the doors. Yoshio had never been in the basement of this mansion before, but he was kind of hoping this wasn't the wine cellar- he was pretty sure that would detract from the fun. Kokomi opened the door and stepped through, beckoning for Yoshio to follow.

and he did.

and he wished he didn't.

In his excitement, he'd almost forgotten the elephant in the room, the thing left undiscussed. Now the elephant was staring right at him- both of them were.

Fumihito and Yosuke... how could he have forgotten? Kokomi had been the one to kidnap them- what else had Yoshio been expecting in the basement? It did occur to him that now they knew what it had been like every time Yoshio was made to sleep in the cellar but no, that wasn't fair.

He could hear screaming, he barely registered it before Kokomi covered his mouth and it stopped. The twins were both tied up in a chair, hands behind their back and a cloth in their mouths to gag them. Yoshio felt sick, but Kokomi gently stroked his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear- at least they were probably sweet nothings, Yoshio was failing to process her words.

She took her hand off of his mouth, only for him to cover it with his own- he was going to be sick. He turned, leaning against a wall and gagging. Kokomi put a hand on his back, rubbing it and quietly reassuring him.

Once he was sure he wouldn't throw up, he turned around to face Kokomi, only for her to thrust a tree branch in his hands. Yoshio's eyes widened, and he was sure his expression didn't look far off the twins' own.

///////////

The year was 1964, and Yoshio was ten years old. He was outside, playing alone like he usually did. Today, the game was running between the tree in the garden, and the wall. He was pretty fast if he said so himself, although all that turning around did make him a little dizzy. He was pretty sure Yuuma had gone to ask Mommy for lemonade, so he figured he'd go and look.

Jogging around the corner, he spotted Yuuma and Fumihito sitting at the picnic bench, with a pitcher of lemonade. Yoshio smiled, approaching them. "Can I have a glass?" He asked, and Yuuma nodded, pouring him one.

Fumihito whined at that, "no fair, Yoshio shouldn't have any, he's gay!"

Yoshio blinked at him, "I'm not gay? I have a fiancee?"

"That's gay."

Yuuma interjected at that point, "you have a fiancee as well, Fumi. There's no arguing at the lemonade table, them's the rules."

"Why do you get to make the rules?"

"I'm the eldest."

As far as Yoshio was concerned, that was perfectly reasonable, but Fumihito saw fit to continue to argue. Yoshio just listened quietly as he sipped his lemonade, it was fresh, and very tasty. Mommy told everyone that she made it, but Yoshio had seen her telling the maids to make it for her. He didn't mind, mommy had a lot on her plate- especially since she was pregnant.

"Hey Yoshio?" Yosuke appeared next to them now, covered in leaves, with his hair full of twigs. "You wanna play with me and Fumihito?"

Yoshio blinked, his brothers never wanted to play with him! This was new! Maybe they'd seen how fast he was and decided he was finally cool? Yeah, that must be it. He nodded excitedly, "sure!"

Both twins smiled, and Fumihito stood up, "come on then, we've got such a good game."

He was happy to follow his brothers, they were a year older than them, so they must have much better games than Yoshio did. They lead him next to the tree he had been running next to- oh they **definitely** saw how fast he was.

"Stand here for a moment," Yosuke instructed him, before climbing up the tree as fast as anything. Yoshio was very impressed, he definitely wouldn't have been able to climb a tree like that; his brothers were so cool.

He watched as Yosuke broke off a tree branch, it must have been loose already. He turned to Fumihito to say as much, but Fumihito had moved. As Yosuke began to climb back down, Yoshio found out where Fumihito had gone when the boy grabbed his arms and forcing him to the ground where he held Yoshio there.

Yoshio was confused, he didn't like this game very much, and decided to make this known to his brothers. "I...I don't like this game anymore..."

"oh come on!" Yosuke chuckled, testing the weight of the tree branch, "it's gonna be so good, and you're even gonna get out of school with it!"

"Huh..?" Yoshio questioned, but before he could ask a follow up question, Yosuke raised the tree branch above his head, bringing it down on Yoshio's legs.

Yoshio screamed.

////////////

Was there blood on him? Yoshio wasn't sure. All he knew was that his heart was beating out of his chest and his breathing was heavy and laboured. He was pretty sure he had splinters in his hands and tears in his eyes, but the sobbing he heard wasn't his.

He turned to look at Kokomi, only to see her smiling proudly back.

"You did so well, impy, I'm so proud of you."

That was the first time anyone had been proud of Yoshio.

and she hadn't even used his name.

#ouran high school host club #yoshio ootori #yuzuru souh

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anothanobody · 2 years

Note

Mikasa entering the convent

italics - flashback

bold & italics - dialogues

Sighs keeps leaving her pink glossy lips, symbolizing a balanced mind. Not like before, where it is pink but chapped, showing her deteriorating health. But now, to everyone’s relief, she’s slowly getting back in shape and is in a better mood and healthier mind.

“I can finally be with you again my love, I’ll pray for every journey that you will take” Mikasa thought warmly and lovingly as she looks at the buildings and events happening outside through her car’s backseat window.

“I wonder if they’re the same like me, longing for their beloved like me with you. Deprived of their lover’s warm touch and embraces. Missing them everyday and asking the silence when will I feel your lips against mine again after an eternity” she then ended the phrase with a deep breath then leaned back on her seat while looking at her finger and fiddling with her nails. Then her mind recalled the conversation she had with Annie and Sasha after she told them she’s going to enter the convent. It was one of the few moments she seldomly had where she felt jovial ever since Eren died.

“Are you sure about that? I mean it’s just surprising” Sasha said with a scrunched-up face while snacking on a sandwich. “Yes Sasha, no turning backs now” replied Mikasa quite fondly. “Sasha you literally heard her, you have your ears. It seems like she’s bent on in regards to her decision” quipped Annie while rolling her eyes. “Damn, no need to get all sassy like that. I was just making sure” the brunette said with a huff and a faux disdain expression. “But since you’re going to the monastery, please pray for me” followed the latter. “Girl she’s going to be a nun, of course she’s going to pray all the time!” jested by Annie in an annoyed manner but has a small smile formed on her lips. “Okay you two, that’s enough quarreling for the day” Mikasa intervenes before their joking banters becomes out of hand.

“Mikasa darling? Earth to Mikasa? We’re here, make sure to check if you missed anything m’kay?” It seems like she had zoned out as she didn’t noticed the car had already stopped and her parents had already stepped out of the car. Taking a deep breath and smoothing out her clothes full of white and laces, she turned to her sides and reached out to the bouquet she had prepared and her luggage full of belongings. But before she goes outside, she took the locket then kissed it, “my love, please guide me in every step that I take” she whispered then she gently reached to the car’s handles to open it. Stepping outside where her parents awaited her, her father gently took her luggage and from there, they made their way to the front of the monastery where a nun is looking at their way with smiles reaching their eyes.

Finally reaching the nun, she started “are you Mikasa Ackerman?” Mikasa then gave a polite but curt nod. “We are pleased to meet you” replied the latter with a beam “I am Sister Angelita and the monastery is quite excited to have a new sister-in-training around” said the nun with excitement radiating off of her. “We are excited too sister Angelita” Mrs. Ackerman responded, “Well then darling, it seems like everything is in order. Your Dad and I will have to get going. We’re going to miss you so much” added Mikasa’s mother quite teary then didn’t hesitated to embrace her daughter in a tight but warm hug. “Call us if you need something honey, and your Mom and I will be right in our heels” said Mr. Ackerman with sadness hinted in his quivering voice. Lest to say Mikasa and his wife is quite surprised because he’s been indifferent for the past days. But nonetheless, Mikasa smiled and hugged her father “‘Course I will Dad, I’m going to miss you so much”. “Goodbye honey” her Father said one last time then handed back her luggage.

Dmitri Shostakovich - Waltz No. 2

Watching her parents retreating back, sister Angelita tapped Mikasa on the back and motions for her to finally enter the convent. They walked towards the entrance of the building and this is where everything starts. With her luggage being assisted by the helpers to take to her room, she’s now only left with her bouquet that consists of so many eloquent and fragrant flowers. Forget-me-nots, lily of the valley, hawthornes, daffodils, heliotropes, heathers, marigolds, a red rose, marguerite daisies, a laburnum, blue bells, red chrysanthemum, and pansies. They symbolizes what she’s feeling and yet never giving up hope that one day, she and Eren will meet again. Mikasa’s eyes starts to get glossy because this is where everything will change. From her fate in the near future and how everything will go. And now, it’s all up to her.

The flowers and their meanings in the Victorian Era:

forget-me-nots - I will miss you

lily of the valley - I love you very much

hawthorne - I am hoping

daffodil - When will I see you again?

heliotrope - I am devoted to you

heather - Remember me

marigold - I grieve for you

red rose - My love is true

marguerite daisy - I await you

laburnum - Have you forsaken me?

blue bell - My love is consistent

red chrysanthemum - I love you

pansy - You are ever in my thoughts

wow anon this really caught me off guard but it’s really well done with everything to the detail shittttt this is so goddddddddd i like it. i like how mikasa does in fact have him in mind every step of the way, reassuring herself of eren’s hypothetical want and need, i loved the sasha and annie appearances as well i needed some fluff just with those few lines and they get along as much as i envision them be lol the details to the flowers and everything anon this is amazing this is perfect. gotta be one of my favorite asks and it also gives us a beginning or an alternative one on the angst nunkasa au 😩😩😩😩 thank you for interacting at all and sending this gem anon😩😩🧐🥹🥹🥹🥹

#nunkasa series au

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babyfacebuttercup · 2 years

Text

Run Away Heart

A\n: sorry I took so long I have a lot of writing to catch up on. So hopefully this can hold you all over until I can get to your request. And other stuff I promised.

Hurried footsteps can be heard throughout the estate. Excitement fills the halls of Lady Danbury’s estate, servants rush to get everything ready for your arrival. It was an exciting day in deed, you have been studying abroad. For a few years and you have decided it is time for you to come home. It was a long time coming for you to step back onto familiar shores.

But back at the estate Lady Danbury had something to say to the staff. Straitening up at the top of the front door of her home, leaning on her classic cane for support. Noticing the chatter had died down amongst the staff, the elder women begins. “Everyone look presentable and straighten up! I can trust all of you to treat her with the upmost respect?” Lady Danbury’s eyes scan the line of the house staff. With a confident and excited, “Yes, my lady!” Which brought a smile onto the older women’s face. With a curt nod, the lady of the house makes her way through. The sea of faces who have worked for her family for many years. Making it to the front of the crowed she stands with pride awaiting her child.

As the carriage made it's way into the courtyard you can hardly contain your excitement! You longed for your mother all these years and here she is! At first you didn't see her in the crowed of the staff, making your smile faulter slightly. But you continue to scan the area and you see her standing in the front. Lady Danbury's eyes welled with tears seeing her child come home. Before the horses stopped you didn't even wait for the groomsman. The poor man couldn't even protest, because you were already opening the carriage door.

"Mother!" You made a mad dash for your mother with open arms. She can only stand laughing at your childish ways. "Oh my darling Y/n, I've missed you so much!" She says as your bodies meet and you can only hold one another. "It's been so long I've longed for your hugs and advice mother." Your eyes fill with tears clutching Lady Danbury, over the past nine years all you thought of was mother. She was all you had since your father had passed on. It was a lot to carry on the both of you, and your mother thought it would be best to send you away. So you were sent away to your beloved aunt in the country side. It was peaceful and slow paced you needed that, when your father died it felt like everything was 1,000 miles. But your mother couldn't let you see her falling apart as much as it pained her to send you away. But that's not long over and you are finally home.

"Now that you are home my child let me get a good look at my daughter!" The older women says pulling back to look at you while you wipe away your tears. Smiling slightly seeing the love in her eyes, doing as your mother says. You step back letting her taking you in with her eyes, "My you have grown into a beautiful women and I am so happy to be with you again y/n."" Tears for in your mother's eyes," Oh mother you are too much! You and I could be seen at sisters given this youthful glow about you." You reply back making the elderly women smile brightly. But she wasn't the only one taking you in, the staff who Lady Danbury had long forgot was there behind her. Were delighted to see you since they watched you since you were a child. And here you are all grown up, hearing a small sniffle your eyes leave your mother. But brighten to see the loyal staff of your family's estate welcome you home.

Following your eyes your mother turns around and remembers the staff. “ my word I can’t believe I forgot! The staff was more than ecstatic to see you return home safe and sound.” Your mother says as you walk through the crowd of servants. As each one either nods or curtsies slightly to you. Some smiling and others eyes filled with tears, it’s been so long since so many of them have seen you. But your heart swells knowing that so many people cared for you. your brown eyes go from face to face, you notice that there are a lot of new faces here. More specifically you notice a lot of men about your age. If you catch your eye You try not to make it obvious, that you clearly like what you see. A few of them blush in the rest, clearly are on cloud nine just from that small interaction. Soon your mother trails behind you following you into the house. Chattering away at everything that has happened while you’ve been gone. Leaving The head of the staff to deal with the rest of the servants.

Knowing what they all have to do the small crowd seems to disperse. After the ladies of the house disappear into the estate. “Wasn’t she beautiful? Her eyes felt like she can see how fast my heart beats for her!” Said Samuel who was one of the horse handlers. If you of the other handlers could only laugh at the young man.

Saying that he was already loves sick ,Samuel was about 6 foot two and slender but he had muscle. He wasn’t the weakest but he also wasn’t one of the strongest, he kept his hair back. Samuel was a beautiful dark brown man, and they caught the attention of a lot of women. As well as his tight curls he keeps out of his face while he worked. But sometimes that couldn’t be helped in Samuel’s case, he also had a distinctive birthmark on his eye. Setting him apart from the other men on the grounds. You could say that he was different for most people, by that I mean he was extremely energetic. And that caused him to be extremely clumsy and a lot of people disliked him. Along with that he was easily distracted, and seeing you was a pure Indication of that.

A rough hand grabs onto Samuel making him turn around. Getting ready to yell at whoever, is holding on to him. Only to lay eyes on his older brother Magnus. He was slightly taller than Samuel, but he was more of a polished man. In his position he had to be. Magnus was one of The closer people to the lady of the house. She organized her schedules, send out invitations to balls and greeted guest with Lady Danbury. Magnus sported long hair like his childish brother. Which came to just below his shoulders, and he kept it in a braid at all times. It was easier to manage he would always say to anyone who asked.

But Magnus basically watched over his younger brother acting as guardian. Since their parents had long passed away it was up to him to take care of his younger brother. “ don’t you dare think about it! Leave her be! You will stay away from her. Unless you were called upon by her, I don’t need to be made a fool in front of Lady Danbury.” Snatching his sleeve back now standing face-to-face fully with his brother.

Samuel only rolls his eyes, “ you don’t need to tell me that. You think I don’t know the rules? She wouldn’t favor me anyway I mean look at me.” He says gesturing to his stable uniform. Pinching the bridge of his nose having little to no patience for Samuel. “ As long as you understand that’s all that matters. Get these childish emotions out of your system, we have work to do in there’s no time for this. Everything has to be perfect for the ball coming in a few days.”

This is Samuels first time hearing this news shooting a confused look at his brother.” So soon? I thought the Bridgerton’s ball wasn’t for another month? At least that’s what Lady Whistledown says.” Now folding his arms and shaking his head. “Regardless of what that crockpot says Lady Danbury has prepared a ball. To introduce her daughter into society, since she’s been away for so long and didn’t get a chance. That’s neither here nor there you will not mess this up. I need complete understanding from you Samuel. Because if not I will take your horse clippers and chop your hair off.” Magnus can only stay with a smile. As his younger brother can only look at horror at him. Which feels the older man with slight joy, knowing that he has instilled some fear into his sibling. ”Now with that I have work to do and so do you. I suggest you pretend as if she doesn’t exist, remember no speaking or looking at her.” Before Samuel can even protest his older brother is following the trail of Lady Danbury and you inside.

#bridgerton x you #x reader #fanfic #babyfacebuttercupfic #bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton #brigerton #black!reader #black reader #x oc #bridgerton #lady danbury #netflix #anthony x reader #x poc reader #lady bridgerton #bridgerton drabble

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words-etched-in-her-skin · 3 years

Note

“Good”. Alcina knew she was “good” in a lot of ways. She was a “good” choice for a lord. Powerful, smart and efficient. The was a “good” mother. Devoted, loving and protective. Furthermore she was a “good” Dimitrescu. None have held the reign over the village like she had.

‘Ah yes.’ She thought to herself. ‘I am good, EXTREMELY good.’ Knowing and hearing it though was two very different things. Even better being lovingly rewarded strengthened the absolute blissful situation she found herself in. “Good” made her fall to pieces.

It was in way you patted and rubbed her soft belly. You locked eyes with her and promised “I’ll be ‘good’ to you”. The thick head of her fave toy pushing into her entrance. Alcina offered a smirk “you had best be, darling. I don’t just let anyone do this.” The truth was Alcina was already thrilled about how this was going.

The way you stroked her thick thigh as girth of the toy stretched her cause her to roll her head back. The soft touch of your fingertips and the gentle “good job” caused her to instinctively open up her hips more. She wanted to take all of it. Alcina was glad the room was dark so her pet couldn’t see the warm pink appearing on her cheeks.

Finally you lower your hips into a very receptive countess. The head of the toy pushing deep into her. Alcina slipped up and gave a very soft moan and lifted her heels off of the bed. She couldn’t help it the blush intensified, her nipples hardened, and she could feel her core milk the toy inside of her. ‘Jesus Christ. Alcina, not so early in the night.’ You Could sense a stern look even though you couldn’t see it. You stop lowering yourself. “Alcina? Are you good?” She offered a curt “Continue.” It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with her falling apart.

A hushed pant continued as you stuffed the last bit of the toy deep inside her. It was a lot, all of it. The foreplay, was delightful, the touching was just she needed and to quite literally top it off her favorite pet was resting between her legs. Then you said it. The thing that disarmed her entirely.

You could go no farther inside so just took a brief moment to rest on top of her. Resting your forehead on her sternum you gently kiss between her breasts. Using one hand to lazily trace around her hard nipple the other hand drifted to her face and caressed her face. Then came “Good girl.”

Alcina had no control over her body. It was frustrating. Her core began dripping with pure desire. She swallowed hard and used her tongue to trace over her long canine teeth. She knew then she had lost. She was going to melt easily to her beloved pet.

She gently placed her powerful hands your back. “Oh my sweet, pet. You are so good to mommy.” It was her last attempt to maintain the waning composure she had. The intense gold of her eyes reflected what tiny bit of light was in the room. You gently lifted off of the countess and began gently pumping the toy inside of her. You smiled a warm loving smile and said “Im glad you think so, Alcina. You are so good to me, I want to give you my best.”

Alcina broke. She couldn’t take it. A soft moan reverberated off the walls of her room. Everything about her pet and this night was good. No, in fact amazing. The way you lovingly looked at her, the way her warm juices was spilling from her body in anticipation, the way you stolen a soft moan so early on… nothing about this night was good. It was perfect to her.

The silence followed by the brief soft moan made you worry for Alcina. “Alcina?” You asked with a twinge of concern. “Are you…” Alcina traced your spine with her long fingers. “I’m good.” Her cheeks turned a deep red. “I have never been better.”

—————————————————————————

I should be sleeping but I’m too busy thinking about Alcina. Goddamnit. I have two brain cells tonight and it’s the “Love Alcina” brain cell and “be a lesbian” brain cell. Soft smut? Is that a category? I tried to make it as soft as my last one. Dunno if I failed or not.

OOOOOHHHH FUUUUUUUU... YOU DIDN'T FAIL AT ALL, DEAR! This was amazing! I'm glad your last two braincells decided to feed me and the rest of my followers with this tasty little treat! 🤤🤤🤤🤤 I really love your writing style 👀 Please, feel free to send in anymore of these that your brain comes up with! I LOVED THIS! MY LADY 😩😩💦💦💦💦FJFHDJDKDHJDJFKDKDJFFJ

#depravity answered #anonymous #resident evil village #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu #kddjkddjsklsjs #i have such talented followers!#you guys keep me well fed #🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤#kdjrdjksjdlslsa #thank you for sharing!#im gayyyyyy #re8 asks

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nemeseos-noctua · 3 years

Note

Heyyy, uhh, sorry if I'm annoying you, but I wanted to ask if u could maybe make hcs of some genshin boys comforting you after someone made fun of u because of ur skin color (it sounds weird, ik, but I would like to show it to my friend then cuz ppl keep making fun of her skin color and she feels really insecure about her skin so, if u make this, she'll probably feel better :) ) and again, sorry if I'm annoying.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: childe, zhongli, kazuha (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mockery towards skin, insults, childe's true name, liyue archon quest spoilers

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i don't know what genshin characters you wanted, but i'll just add some of the comfort characters!

honestly? he'd be seething.

how dare someone insult you because of the color of your skin? even though he wasn't the best person, that was absolutely detestable.

childe does not tolerate any sort of disrespect to those he loves. and you? you are no exception.

"Excuse me—?!" Childe stepped forward almost instantly once an insult sprouted from that person's lips. His fingers tightened, preparing to materialize his hydro swords, that piece of filth was lucky you were there to hold the Harbinger back.

"Childe, don't." You stared down at the ground, glaring at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. You had no time for a fight, and neither did you have the confidence to defend yourself.

This is uncomfortable. Rubbing your palms up and down your arms, the ginger was quick to notice your habits of insecurities. Guiding you away into the swarming crowd of Liyue Harbor, deep blue eyes spared one last look at the person who insulted you, imprinting their appearance into his irises.

"Darling, don't listen to them," Childe spoke up almost instantly. Never, he thinks, never ever let anyone tell you anything like that.

You don't respond. How could you not? Mirrors were windows to your fears, people were judging, and you, you were nothing. Nothing in this grand, grand world.

It's not your fault. Your mind argues, and yet, you could not bring yourself to agree. Perhaps if you had been the standard, or been prettier, or anything else that wasn't... you.

Maybe you'd be better then.

And Childe—your beloved partner, could only watch in horror as you spiraled down despair. This is not okay, he knows, and yet, he is afraid.

He's afraid because he does not know what to say. To him, you are the most beautiful thing in the world—a flower that blooms in winter, a firefly amongst the darkness.

Regardless of his own fears, Ajax takes your hand in his. He laces his gloved fingers together with yours, the calluses of his palms being masked behind fabric.

And he squeezes lightly. He squeezes your hand once, twice, thrice. He squeezes with each syllable that "I love you" has, he holds you gently yet firmly, as if you were about to slip into the currents of your raging mind.

Rounding a corner, Childe brings you into a secluded alleyway. It's cold, too cold.

But then it was warm. It was warm because the familiar scent of Childe's (sometimes too strong) cologne filled your senses.

Soon after, a breath tickled the shell of your ear.

"Love."

Childe's voice was unusually tender for a battle-worn man. To others, he was a villainous Harbinger who brought nothing but despair and debt, an omen of doom, if you will.

He holds you tighter to his torso, his back leaned against a wall as he supports you with his own strength.

"You're beautiful, I promise."

It's curt and concise. Childe was usually one to spew blunt words, like 'die!' or 'this is going to hurt!' to his enemies, but with you, it seemed as though he could be a bard.

He knows such words will not be enough to convince you, but he hopes it will be of little help—just for now.

And as you bury your head into his scent, the Harbinger's eyes glint dangerously under the minimal light.

He wonders if that person will still be talking after some hits.

from here on out, childe compliments you to no end.

you thought it was bad before? well, now the ginger is fluent in 50 different ways to say you're beautiful. every morning, he wakes you up with a, "mornin', beautiful!" and leaves with a "see you, darling!". you will never EVER catch a break.

also, what happened to the person who insulted you?

...

hm.

unlike childe (who charged headfirst into battle), zhongli would rather shield you from such words

as a former archon, zhongli is a protector. he protected the land he loves, and therefore, he will protect you, the person he loves.

he's furious, no doubt about it. but to him, you come first. before anything, before everything. he has long given up his title as the god of contracts, but when it comes to you, he swears on his name and his life.

so he grips your wrist, giving that good-for-nothing scum a forced smile and polite goodbye before walking off, your hand in his.

zhongli can tolerate disrespect, in fact, he finds it amusing if it is directed towards himself. but the look on your face as you seemed to crawl under your appearance was enough of an indicator that you, the light of his life, was not okay.

zhongli hates it. he hates that look of hurt on your face and he hates the way he's powerless in situations like these. if it were possible, he'd cradle you in his arms like a wingless bird and tell you it's alright, it's okay, you're going to be fine.

but he can't. he knows you won't listen, and he knows those hateful comments won't stop.

"[name]," zhongli speaks quietly, his voice rumbling like the sea lapping against the shore. he closes the door of your shared abode behind him. here, there is just the two of you, a safe haven for all those who need it.

"please, please don't listen to them. they don't know what they're talking about."

his voice wavers, and he pulls you close. he trembles, yet no tears are shed.

he's angry, but sad. he's frustrated, but calm. he's everything and nothing, powerless yet powerful.

this feeling is complicated, and in his many years of life, he has never felt like this. such seething rage, like a tsunami building up. it's a domino effect, he thinks. whatever happens to you happens to him.

he cradles you, but not like a wingless bird. he cradles you like an injured warrior, a war hero, even.

"i am sorry i could not do anything to help you..." he whispers once he thinks you're asleep.

zhongli hums mindless tunes and tells you plenty of stories. comfort does not have to come with retaliation, and neither does it need fluffy heartfelt words.

comfort, to zhongli, is being there. so when you wake up with those puffy eyes, he will be waiting for you with a cold washcloth and herbal tea.

zhongli is there. he is unmovable, like stone. he is there for you, and will always be.

kazuha has never been one for violence of any kind

to him, wielding a blade is meant strictly for saving, not slaying. he is gentle like a lake, yet deadly like a river. one misstep and there will be no going back, especially during the rain

he prefers taking your mind off of the negative. the scent of the wind and the beats of your heart is especially somber, he notices. and so, though he was not there personally to witness insults being thrown, he is aware of the damage.

to him, you are like a paradise. a serene forest, where the deeper you go, the louder your heartbeat is.

today, though, there were no crickets chirping. no birds flying and no deers prancing. today, everything was silent.

kazuha appreciated silence, but not from you.

he treads carefully, worried you'll break at any moment. just for today, you are a delicate butterfly. he will hoist you up to fly, even if it is only for a few fleeting moments.

"Can't sleep?" Kazuha looks over at you kindly. One of his legs were sitting up while the other laid flat down. Leaning on the edge of the ship with just his hands to support him, you questioned the samurai's boldness.

"No," you mumbled. Even now, with the mask of the moon, you could not bear to look at the male. You felt like a stranger in your own skin, a hollow shell of your body.

"Come, sit next to me." He pats the empty space by his side. "I just came up with a new verse for a haiku. Would you like to hear it?"

You nod, and he smiles in return.

"You are filled with doubt," Kazuha says, looking up at the moon. You notice his ash-blonde hair is pearl white under the night, but that is not all that captures your attention.

"Of the magic inside you."

His gloved hand reaches for your shoulder, pulling you closer to him so your arms touch.

"But it's all I see."

This time, his voice dips into a whisper, a sound as light and fair as the wind.

He noticed your drooping eyes, and it is then he realizes that your cheeks are tear-stained.

"Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams."

A butterfly lands on your forehead. You realize it's strangely soft for a fluttering insect.

he holds you close, afraid you'll succumb to the darkest depths of your mind

tracing mindless words into your skin, he peppers delicate kisses all across your face. he wonders if you'll feel better if he tells you how gorgeous you are to your face, or if you'd prefer subtle hints

the wind was especially harsh that day. don't be surprised if that person who insulted you is afraid to see your face, kazuha interfered just a little bit

- constellations

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ikemen-banshou · 2 years

Note

Ikemen prince they call you clingy then you change and they regret it

((Awww, they would never do that…..I think

((I’ll split them into two post and there are some characters who I don’t know well, so if it doesn’t match them , my apology

->part2

Chevalier Michel

Chevalier Was very busy these past few days, you know being king and all has been tough with all the letters and paper work and meeting nobles every now and then, plus not getting his beauty sleep.

You know how cranky he gets without getting his beauty sleep

Another thing that’s making it worse was y/n. Don’t get him wrong he loves you so much your basically his life, but the past few days you have been so clingy like very clingy.

Always following him around, hugging him every second like?! He gets it you want some affection and he does too but he also needs space

That was until he finally broke/snapped (idk,why I wrote that word but anyway)(1 hr later I figured the word snapped)“Tch you don’t have to be so damn clingy all the time, I need space and so do you” he said with a cold tone

Your used to his curt comments, but this one hit you deeply and so you left without saying a word. Chevalier sighed and continued his work not knowing this would impact him a lot.

Few days later he started missing your presences wondering why you haven’t shown up yet, then he it clicked to him, the events that happens before.

He left his work and went straight to you to……..apologize. He knocked on your door, not waiting for you to open he went inside. As soon as you saw him ,you wiped your tears and acted as if you haven’t not been crying all day

He saw your red puffy eyes and felt about bad [keyword: abit] , he pulled you in a hug and whispered near your ear “I’m sorry”

Clavis Lelouch

Now Clavis here was bored and wanted to do a prank. Who would be the victim of his prank?

His sweet beloved of course.!

So, you have been needy these past few days, and he’s loves it but decided to use it to his advantage

“Darling, you have been clingy these past few days and I’m not likening it, I need space” (idk if he says darling or not it just……suits him??!) He tried sounding harsh with it.

And oh how he didn’t miss your eyes begging to be filled with tears and you trying to hold them, he felt bad, he did but he wanted to see how long it can last.

The first day was great, probably heard you crying behind your bedroom door but anyway…..the prank must go on.

A week has passed and he started missing your presences , but the prank mush go on

Two weeks has passed and now he is really craving for your attention, and so he went to you knocked and entered. He saw how puffy , red and swollen your eyes are. He didn’t think the prank would go that far.

“Haha , dear plz don’t cry no more, this whole thing was just for fun, now wipe those tears away”

Nokto Klein

Nokto has been exhausted being king and all. Especially since he’s very know all kinds of noble inviting him to balls and noble stuff.

Who knew being king was this hard, worse of all he hasn’t been able to spend proper time with you. At the same time you being clingy following him around hugging him…distracting him. This isn’t…….proper

He is exhausted and is tired and wants sleep you following isn’t helping , he loves you but he’s gonna break at some point…and eventually he did

“ princess, as much as I’d love to spend time with you, you gotta stop being clingy at times y/n……I need some space at times”

You took that to heart and left without saying a word. Nokto sat back down at his desk thought of nothing of it and continued to do paperwork.

Nokto could not describe how much he craves for your attention, he didn’t think it could be that bad. He had enough of it and went straight to you.

He knocked nothing…knocked again still nothing he went in and you weren’t here. Have you finally decided to leave him?! Nokto mind went to the worse scenario.He went looking for you the kitchen, the garden every place he could think of.

Then he saw you, coming out of his room with a guilty expression. “Y/n” nokto basically ran up to. You looked at him and told him that you went looking for him to apologize

“No no, I’m the one who’s supposed to apologize,…I’m so so sorry please forgive”. Ofc you forgave him “now let me show you how sorry I am.

Luke Randolph

Luke was slacking off doing whatever, when an idea came to him, probably cause he spent too much time with Clavis.

He thought this would be a silly little prank but no it turned bad real fast. See these past few days you have been a bit too much clingy for no apparent reason.

“Hey…um well you’ve been a bit clingy or not a bit…a lot and I would like to have some space….”

Our poor honey bear thought you’d take it as a joke too, not to heart : (

When you left , he thought nothing of it, but then you started avoiding him. Which made him worried

It finally clicked! It must have Been the prank he did a few days ago. It it just broke his heart , your upset because of him

He confronted you about it, and explained it was just a prank , he didn’t mean it

“Please don’t be upset from me, it was just a prank, go back to being clingy again…for me”

Rio Oritz

Rio was having a hard time being a butler and helping sariel. Also making sure everything’s perfect for you.

He was exhausted and wished to go back to his old life, don’t get him wrong he likes it here but he wants to spend time with you.

Although he loves you dearly it doesn’t help on how clingy you are, following him all around just begging for attention.

It just continued until he snapped “Please I need my space I have things to do, stop being so cling”

When you left, he realizes his mistake and knew this is going to be a hell of a week.

Rio has been longing for your attention, he misses you. And just wants you in his arms or vice versa. And so he knew what he needed to to do!

“Please forgive me , I was so stressed and I took it all out on you, please I miss you”

((…….well then I apologize again if the way I wrote it/personality doesn’t match their character

#Ikemen prince #chevalier michel #clavis lelouch #nokto klein #Luke Randolph #Rio Oritz

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

To bargain for immortality pt.4

The first thing to come to her conscious mind as soon as she woke up were always the faint distant sounds of her home. Faint, as not only was Cassandra's bedroom on one of the higher floors, but any staff members knew better than to make noise while their mistresses were sleeping. Distant barking made its way past a window left ajar, accompanied by scribbling noises.

Nicole turned around, legs tangled in the blanket that was shared until not long ago, to look for a colder spot warranted by the warm May weather. The realization that she was alone in bed made its way through the haze still remaining from sleep. That, in itself, was not unusual as Cassandra almost always woke up first and busied herself with something while waiting for her to wake up.

"Cassandra?" She called out quietly, voice still groggy with sleep and eyes not even bothering to open.

"Just a moment," came her response from the other side of the room, likely the desk, as the scratchy sound of pencil on paper stopped.

The chair was pushed away and a handful of steps took Cassandra to the door, where a maid was waiting outside as per routine. After a couple hushed instructions, the door clicked shut again and she finally approached the bed, looking down at her wife with fondness. She bent down to leave a kiss on top of messy auburn hair.

"Good morning."

Her answer came in the form of a returned kiss and impatient tug of her hand, that she gladly indulged by sitting down on top of the soft cushions that she had priorly abandoned. Nicole wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side, happy to feel the cool skin underneath a thin grey robe. Cassandra decided that her wife seemed awake enough to receive news, despite the obvious refusal to even crack an eye open.

"Bela wants to go into town later and asked if we'd like to come."

There they were, emerald eyes finally open and staring up at her in surprise.

"Did you say yes?"

Cassandra scoffed. "And finally get the chance to go out and stretch my legs after being locked up in the castle for all winter? Absolutely not."

That got her an eye roll. "In that case I'll keep on sleeping through the whole evening," Nicole said, pretending to go back to the dream she had just left unfinished, something the mild tiredness that had settled in her body seemed more than happy about.

"Oh no you don't."

Two strong hands gripped her shoulders and shifted her into Cassandra's lap, thin lips intoxicatingly close to her ear. "I even prepared the perfect outfits for the two of us, I simply cannot believe you'd pass up this opportunity for some extra sleep."

Nicole laughed at the feign offense, voice finally clear and free from the morning raspiness. She stretched her arms upwards with a few satisfying pops and then let her hands rest on Cassandra's shoulders.

"My, that's so thoughtful of you," she said, leaving a soft kiss on her lips. "Good morning."

The moment was kindly interrupted by a curt knock on the heavy door. Nicole groaned and moved back on the bed, pulling a nightgown that certainly did not belong to her loosely over her shoulders. When she was covered enough to not put on a show, Cassandra chuckled and addressed the still closed door.

"Come in."

A young woman entered the room, one of the latest additions to the kitchen staff as per Cynthia's request, with a tray expertly balanced in one hand, while the other held the leash of one of the thankfully well behaved hounds.

"Eris!" Nicole greeted the black dog, who snapped its big brown eyes in her direction and started wagging its tail. Thankfully for the girl holding the leash, the dog was expertly trained and did not lunge away to its owners. Instead it followed along, not tugging on the leash until both were just by the bed.

"Breakfast, my ladies."

A small assortment of drinks, together with a plate were placed from the silver tray to the small table on Cassandra's side. One wine glass was filled with fresh crimson blood, a cup of hot tea was sitting right beside it, steam rising up from the liquid inside and, in the smaller cup, dark coffee. On the plate, a freshly baked croissant and a small assortment of berries were waiting invitingly.

"And Eris, as you requested."

The girl held up the leash, but Cassandra simply waved a dismissive hand. "Just let her go. And leave the leash on my desk."

She did as was instructed, unhooking the leash with a soft metal click and placing it, coiled up neatly, on the carefully polished wood of the desk. Then, with a slight bow, she left the two alone once again.

Nicole didn't acknowledge that, too busy patting the spot by her side for the black hound to jump up. Cassandra opened her mouth to protest, but was a second too late as the dog was already in her wife's lap getting head and neck scratches. She sighed. At least all the hounds were kept squeaky clean outside hunting sessions.

"Stop spoiling our hunting dogs."

"Oh darling don't worry, I have no power over Carolina's training," she emphasized by snapping a finger and pointing it to the far side or the bed, direction that the dog followed dutifully, curling up on top of a folded blanket. "Good girl," she cooed at the furry beast, which elicited a tail wag.

Cassandra shook her head with a small smile tugging at her lips. She passed the small coffee cup to her wife, who took a tentative sip to test the temperature. It was lukewarm, as it always was, the routine of all the family ingrained into each and every staff member to the dot. They knew how Nicole liked her coffee, what tea to pair with any kind of breakfast and, probably most important for their sake, exactly how much blood, down to the milliliter, Cassandra liked to drink in the morning. Well, early evening, but who kept track.

The bitter liquid was downed in mere seconds, the taste accompanied by a sour grimace. Nicole did not like coffee in the slightest, having lost any possible appetite for the bitter taste after drinking one too many, or a thousand too many, cups during her days in med school. Unfortunately, it still did its job of waking her up, so a compromise with a sweet cup of fruity tea right afterwards had to be made.

She passed the empty cup back to Cassandra, who replaced it with the tea.

"I have to say, seeing your face scrunched up in disgust every morning is most entertaining."

"Happy to see my attempt at waking up is enjoyable for you," she replied with a pointed look thrown over the porcelain edge of the mug.

The look however was replaced by a content sigh upon sipping on the tea, the prior bitter taste slowly replaced by a blissful blend of fruit and lavender. While their cook Cynthia was downright an expert at preparing all kinds of meat, human included, her biggest talent was creating the best blends of tea, never too overpowering but always with a balanced taste. At least according to Nicole, and she would hold that opinion to the day she died.

While waiting for the liquid to get to a more drinkable temperature, her attention went back to the dog now sprawled on its side. "Why did you ask for Eris?"

Cassandra took another long sip of her drink, far more elegant than one would expect from a woman who had no issue regularly walking around covered in blood. "I just thought we could bring her along, I know she's your favorite," she finished with a smirk.

"That's not true," Nicole quickly replied, as if she were a mother accused of having a favorite child, which only made Cassandra's grin grow wider. She cleared her throat in an attempt to save some face. "I love all our dogs equally, Eris is just… particularly well behaved, yes."

Her wife simply chuckled, not having bought any of her excuses for playing favorites. Not that Cassandra wasn't guilty of that either. Her first response to picking a favorite would be not unlike Nicole's, but she had a particular fondness for Freya, one of their Finnish hounds, who always seemed so eager to sniff out prey on the hunts. She would be lying to say that she didn't entertain the idea of asking her mother to infect some of their best dogs from time to time, their short lives feeling like blinks of an eye compared to her own immortality.

She placed the now empty glass back on the table, not quite as graceful as her mother always did after a meal. They had plenty of time, so getting up was not yet in either of their schedules.

"Are we going somewhere in particular, or just out for a stretch," Nicole asked in between sips.

"Bela has to pick something up and Dani, surprising to precisely no one, wants to visit the bookshop," Cassandra started with a slight eye roll, leaning on her side on top of the cushions and starting to toy with the hem of Nicole's sleeve. "Since we're doing none of that boring stuff, I thought you'd like to choose."

Nicole tapped a finger of the white rim of her mug, nail making a soft clink. She sighed. "Just a walk around town, I'm really dying to get out too."

"You do realize you're not confined to the castle during winter like I am right," Cassandra laughed.

"And leave my beloved wife all alone while I go out and about," her reply was overly dramatic, complete with a hand gingerly placed over her heart almost as if such an idea was close to blasphemous. It only gained her a small snort.

"Should I remind you that I've spent decades in this castle? I promise I can bear it."

Okay, grandma.

With the tea finally gone, Nicole placed the tall mug on the nightstand closest to her, effectively freeing her hands. Free to trace tender fingers up Cassandra's arm, her neck and around the intricate lace of her choker to toy with the fine chains decorating it.

"You sure about that?" Her voice was sickly sweet, all too aware of her unbeatable talent of making someone as sadistic as her wife melt with little more than a hushed tone and gentle hands.

Cassandra did not respond right away. She was nothing if not a prideful person and admitting to the fact that yes, she would miss her, even for a handful of hours, was not particularly high on her list of things to be said out loud. It was almost an unbearably clingy kind, their relationship. Or at least that's what someone who did not know better would say. Truth be told, they were both the kind of people that looked almost desperately, although a desperation worn with odd grace, for comfort in other people. People they would then fight tooth and nail, or more accurately fang and claw, to keep close. It was obvious in the way Cassandra took on the role as protector of the family, nevermind the fact that Alcina would cut any possible threats to pieces before any of them had time to lift a finger. Obvious, also in the way she was so protective over Nicole herself, the beautifully engraved dagger always strapped to the redhead’s side either under a lab coat or at the belt of a dress rendered little more than a fancy accessory.

Cassandra chuckled, wrapping long fingers around her hand and taking it away from her necklace. "Why don't we get dressed before Bela comes to nag at us mm?" Then black lips were gingerly pressed to the skin, leaving a small kiss on top of bony knuckles.

With a shrug and a less than gracious stretch accompanied by a yawn, Nicole got out from under the covers, the red velvety fabric of the robe flowing after her like an impromptu cape.

"Are you wearing my robe," Cassandra's voice came from behind her, together with hands placed on her waist.

Duh.

Not that Cassandra ever truly complained. Finding the oversized clothing her wife often wore quite endearing.

"It does look quite charming on me you have to admit."

"You're practically swimming in it."

Nicole rolled her eyes which only prompted a small laugh.

They fixed themselves enough to be semi presentable for the small distance that separated the bedroom and the dressing room. Nicole was about to suggest wearing something more casual, but the fact that going out for the first time after the long winter months was almost reason for a small celebration for all three of the Dimitrescu sisters made her shut down that train of thought. No harm in being fancy on occasion after all.

The outfits Cassandra had picked out were nothing short of perfect for the occasion. Matching black dresses, Nicole's a tad lighter with a lacy collar and frilly hems complete with a white vest-like corset, while Cassandra's was made out of a thicker fabric and went down almost to the floor, surely due to her tendency to get cold easily.

Not being the kind that lingered in the dressing room too long, that was more Daniela's style, it took little for them to get dressed. The occasional helping hand for small things that one could maybe twist and turn to do themselves, but why bother when you have a perfectly willing to help spouse, was something they both enjoyed and took a couple extra precious moments to let a hand linger or fingers to trace expertly done sems. After some makeup was applied and the leash was hooked back to Eris' collar, they finally made their way downstairs.

They were close to fashionably late it seemed, as Bela, Daniela and Anita were already waiting in the main hall, the eldest throwing a miffed expression their way upon seeing them descend the grand staircase.

Nicole noticed the absence of one of their usual party members. "Isn't Laura coming with us?"

"She had to go to Donna's this morning. Spring preparations and all," Bela's reply came dangerously close to being accompanied by an uncharacteristic pout.

Oh. Someone's in a sour mood.

They made their way down the stone paved road that connected the castle to the town in relative silence, interrupted only once by Bela telling them when they would meet up to head back home. Other than that, they just enjoyed the short walk. And for good reason, the road was surrounded by beautiful rose bushes on both sides, with pine trees expanding beyond them and the sounds of birds and nocturnal animals beginning to wake up blending together in a quiet murmur so typical to the forest.

Once in the town square under the familiar angel statue, Bela wordlessly left them in favor of making her way down a small street. Daniela and Anita seemed more courteous and said their goodbyes and see-you-laters as they turned around, chattering about something only they understood.

Left alone, with their dog whose leash was attached to the same belt Cassandra's sickle was, they started walking down the quiet streets. It was almost sundown, so even the small crowd of people usually going about their business was almost non-existent, knowing better than to be out at night without good reason.

Something that Nicole was yet to grow bored of, even after a few years spent at the castle, was the small architectural oddities around town. It looked quite regular, albeit old, at first glance but a closer look would reveal the rich symbolism resulting from the centuries of being quite literally broken off from the rest of the world and almost frozen in time.

The go to flowers planted in front of buildings were crimson roses, the familiar patterns of swirling vines and leaves engraved into walls and lamp posts. A bakery they passed by had three sickles hanging behind the glass, complementing the harvest theme the entire shop had, together with dried wheat in vases and warm inviting colors on the walls. The one fishery that everyone in town knew had a mermaid gracefully swimming in a panel just above its entrance and horseshoes were nailed to most doors leading to houses or small apartment buildings. Even a toy store had a suspiciously Angie-like doll, although without the cracks and signs of time its original counterpart sported, looking out at any passersby.

One thing that could never go unnoticed however, were the crows. Statues of the birds, big or small, could be seen anywhere, from street corners to rooftops and atop building entrances. Some had their wings spread out, ready to take flight were they not trapped by stone bodies, others had their bills open wide in a silent croak and some were simply looking on. Real crows were also incredibly common, replacing the pigeons any other city had in favor of the black birds, ironically roosting on the statues of themselves quite often and kindly providing the city background noise with their caws. Nicole inquired about their presence once, and Cassandra had explained how the locals see crows as good luck, being a symbol to Mother Miranda. Many people fed them and even had buildings upon which small towers were erected with the purpose of giving the birds space to make nests.

Nicole had a strong suspicion that some of the birds were a little more than they let on, especially after seeing their so-called goddess break into a flock on multiple occasions. Sometimes, you would look at one of the crows perched on a power line connecting two buildings, and icy grey would stare back, the depth in those eyes far too human to belong to any bird.

Her slight glare towards one crow that seemed to look at them from a windowsill was interrupted by the memory of a small list she had tucked in her pocket before leaving.

"Oh, I need to pass by the pharmacy to pick up a few things we ran out of."

Cassandra simply shrugged. "Sure," and she looked around for a moment to find the street that would take them there fastest. Not like they had any plans other than enjoying the pseudo freedom that being out of the castle gave them.

The pharmacy was oh so conveniently located on the other side of town, adjacent to the hospital near the reservoir. Ever since Miranda had found ways to lessen the negative effects of his mutation, Moreau was the designated town doctor, but due to the still somewhat volatile transformations he was still mostly confined to the place and it's murky waters, a fact that he despised greatly. It was an obvious choice, then, to erect the hospital there. It was a small building not unlike the rest of the town's architecture when it came to size, no more than three floors high and with a small staff that Moreau himself had to teach the ins and outs of medical practice. If memory serves right, even Miranda and her assistants had taught some people particularly well versed in the sciences how to operate the equipment and patients alike. Medical training seemed to be hard to come by around here and Nicole had a gnawing suspicion that it was the reason she was still alive.

The building coming into view behind the trees and the paved road that cut through the small stretch of woods separating the town and reservoir looked oddly new in comparison to the rest, as it had been erected only a couple decades prior. Attached to it, a smaller house with matching tiles on the roof and a sign that read Farmacie above the entrance's double doors.

Dogs were normally not allowed inside, but who was going to stop them of all people from marching right in, black hound happily walking by their side. They were the only ones inside, save for a short woman sitting behind the counter, panic flashing in her eyes when her gaze fell on Cassandra's tall frame, hand in hand with Nicole who was at the moment too occupied with pulling out the list of meds she had written. She gave it a once over and, sure that she had everything down, passed the paper to the pharmacist, who knew better than to ask if she had any prescriptions.

"You could've sent someone to fetch these for you," Cassandra said, eyes following the woman as she disappeared behind tall shelves full of small boxes and pill bottles.

"I know, I just didn't want to wait. I don't like running out of supplies," Nicole shrugged.

Plus, Nicole was way less likely to be questioned on why she's buying twenty different kinds of meds than a random maid. Partly because the pharmacist recognized her and partly because any sane person here knew better than not obliging when Cassandra was looming behind her. A small smirk graced her lips at the thought and a sly look was given to her wife, who was too busy playing with the dog's floppy ears to notice. Eris raised her head at the unforgivable offense, playfully trying to nip at the gloved hands that were tickling her, getting a giggle out of the brunette.

All three were distracted by the soft clink of a bell hanging above the door, indicating that someone had entered the pharmacy. It was an older man, looking to be in his sixties, heavily leaning on a crutch held in his right hand.

Cassandra's features morphed into a scowl and Nicole could practically hear the man-thing going through her mind. The man was probably on the verge of doing a complete one eighty and exit the pharmacy, when a voice called out from behind the counter.

"Ah Andrei, I have something for that infection of yours, hold on a moment," the pharmacist called out, before handing Nicole a sizable paper bag full of what she had requested.

She felt an unwelcomed whiff of decay as Cassandra took the bag from her hands, and sniffled in an attempt to ward off the stinging sensation in her nose. She fumbled with the credit card, mentally cursing the payment for not transferring quicker when the smell was starting to make her eyes water the slightest bit.

"Is everything alright my lady?"

The man's voice, full of genuine worry came from behind them, having moved closer upon the pharmacist's urging, and the putrid stench of death and decomposition flooded Nicole's senses together with the slick sensation of blood running down her face. She had to force down a gag as she shoved the card back into a pocket and all but ran out the door, worried wife in toe.

"Nicole what-" Cassandra swallowed any words she had at the sight of the blood flowing down and staining the until moments before immaculate white of her wife's corset.

Nicole made her way to a corner of the building that nobody seemed to go to, and leaned against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and trying to ward off the lightheadedness.

For someone who spent years working on dead bodies in various stages of decomposition, one would think that the smell of death did not bother her. And it didn't. But this was different, the stench seeming to make its way into her skin and clinging to her senses, coating her throat as if trying to choke her out in the most disgusting way possible. Not to mention that there was no actual dead body around.

She coughed out the blood that didn't make its way out of her nostrils and instead decided to go the throat route. Her hands were a crimson mess and so were her face and dress, a pang of guilt shooting through her for having ruined the outfit picked by Cassandra. At least the bleeding seemed to stop and so did the horrid stench.

Cassandra didn't seem to care, nor even notice, the ruined fabric. Instead she pulled out a handkerchief from a pocket and started to gently wipe the blood away from pale skin.

"What's wrong?" She asked and Nicole could only shake her head.

"I don't know. I don't know why this keeps happening," she almost ran her hands down her face in frustration but had enough clarity of mind to remember how dirty they were. "I thought it would go away, and for a while it did. I don't understand what the hell is wrong with me," she added, voice rising the slightest bit.

Cassandra grimaced, trying to get her face clean. "We can talk to Mother when we get back."

A defeated sigh made its way past bloody lips. Nicole had her doubts that Alcina would know any more than them on the situation, which was nothing. They knew nothing.

She grabbed Cassandra's hand to steady herself back on her feet, mind drifting to what she didn't want to think was her only solution.

If there was anyone who could get to the end of this, it was Mother Miranda.

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #to bargain for immortality #fanfic #doggo!!!#some fluff for a break aye #go out they said itll be fun they said

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Text

He Was a Sk8r Boi

Happiest of Birthdays and best wishes to one of my most beloved and darling friends on this earth, the fantastical @hailhailsatan ! May your sass never cease.

modern au - college student Jaskier - the Kaer Morons are all skater punks

tw: mild injury (scraped arm)

---

Jaskier took a seat on what remained of a crumbling stone bench and pulled his black-and-white composition notebook onto his lap, opening it to the closest blank page. He tugged his favorite pen out from its place of honor behind his ear and waited for inspiration to strike.

And waited.

After half an hour of staring into space and getting absolutely nothing written, the frustrated college student stood from his seat and jammed his headphones into his ears. If nature wasn’t going to help finish this stupid poetry assignment then maybe he could find a person or two to observe for inspiration instead. Glancing around the otherwise empty benches and pathways of the public park, Jaskier sighed and shook his head. “Fuck this, I’ll try the other side.”

He pulled his MP3 player out from the pocket of his light autumn jacket and painstakingly scrolled through every song available until finally giving up and pressing the “Shuffle” button. As a heavy, angry guitar riff began to filter through his headphones and lighten the load of the world from his shoulders, Jaskier found himself approaching a half-hearted attempt at a skatepark.

There was one cement half-pipe to his left and a few rails and quarter-pipes scattered around the vicinity, bolted into the ground in a seemingly random pattern. Several oddly shaped cement bowls were sunk into the earth, obviously made to work like ramps but with a larger and less predictable surface area.

There were only three skaters enjoying the park on this particularly grey afternoon, zipping back and forth from one piece of equipment to the next like emo hummingbirds. Jaskier took out his headphones again as he made his way to a nearby bench - wood this time - and casually sat himself down. The skater dudes were yelling back and forth to each other as they swanned over and around the equipment on their boards, mostly insults from what the student could hear.

The loudest of the three had springy orange hair that he wore pulled back into a small, messy half-bun at the top of his head. The rest fell down against the back of his neck in an equally messy sheet, reaching nearly all the way to his shoulders but not quite touching them. He was wearing a bright red t-shirt with a catchphrase that Jaskier couldn’t read and plain denim jeans.

“What the fuck are you doing, Eskel?” he laughed, pointing to the tallest of the group and pulling a face.

“Shut up, Bert,” the brunette shouted back at the redhead, doing a quick kick-flip over the far end of a metal railing. “You can’t skate for shit.”

“I’m better than you!”

The third member of their little gang was the quietest so far and, in Jaskier’s personal opinion, also the prettiest. He had a mass of long white hair that fell all the way to the bottom of his shoulder blades, pointed and stiff in a way that meant it had been straightened and sprayed into submission. The silvery strands were being held out of the stranger’s eyes by a baggy black beanie and Jaskier desperately wanted to know whether or not that hair color was natural (though he heavily suspected that it was not).

The white-haired guy was also the most talented of the three gathered skaters, flying from one end of the half-pipe to the other and landing a few flips in between as if risking his life was as simple as breathing. He wore no knee pads over his ripped black skinny jeans and no elbow pads either; Jaskier noted with a little zing through his nervous system that the skater’s arms were muscled like a Greek statue’s and equally pale.

He was fucking hot.

“Geralt, do a three-sixty!” the redhead jeered, chucking something at the pretty one.

“I can’t land one yet and you know it,” the white-haired guy, Geralt apparently, replied. His voice was low and sonorous and Jaskier nearly fell off his bench in surprise. The student hadn’t realized how far forward he had been leaning in order to listen to their conversation and he scooted back again with a self-conscious little blush. In the distance, Geralt continued. “Why don’t you get up here and try it yourself, asshole?”

“I just fucking might, White Wolf,” Lambert huffed, turning his board back toward the half-pipe and picking up speed. The dark-haired one, Eskel, caught Jaskier’s eye from across the park; the student blushed an even darker shade of red and looked down at his lap to avoid any sort of confrontation. If any of these guys wanted to start a fight with him, Jaskier would surely lose.

By the time the anxious student worked up the nerve to look at them again, Lambert had already climbed to the top of the half-pipe and taken a defensive stance. His eyebrows were furrowed and his arms were crossed over his chest in a projection of almost childish anger. As Geralt came up the cement incline, Lambert lashed out with his foot and kicked the other man’s board out from beneath his feet.

Eskel gave a wordless cry of alarm.

Geralt wavered in the air for a moment - cartoonishly, Jaskier thought, almost like Wile E. Coyote - before plunging to the pavement and rolling limply down the inside of the half-pipe. Eskel chucked a rock at the redhead and started screaming, “Fuck off, dude! You could have cracked his fucking skull! You could have killed Geralt, you absolute cock-toboggan!”

“Fuck! Shit, I didn't-,” Lambert fell on his butt and slid down the ramp to Geralt’s side, kneeling over him with concern written all over his face. “Are you alright, man!?”

Jaskier couldn’t hear if Geralt replied or not, but he suddenly remembered the first-aid kit sitting right there in his bag. Jaskier was a total klutz and tried to keep a handful of bandages and a tube of disinfectant on him at all times just in case he ever needed them. Thank goodness they would be able to come in handy, and for a far nobler purpose than patching up yet another one of his table-smacked knees.

Without thinking any further ahead, Jaskier grabbed the strap of his bag and took off running towards the site of the accident.

“Hey!” he shouted, coming to a stop a few feet away. “I have - uh, I have a first-aid kit if you want to use it.”

“Cool, thanks,” Eskel said, glancing over his shoulder with a curt nod. “Come on over, we don’t bite. Well, I don’t.”

“Dude, I’m so sorry,” Lambert apologized to Geralt once again. When Jaskier glanced over at him, the redhead looked legitimately upset and guilty. Geralt looked up at the newcomer from the pavement, his silver hair spread out around him in mimicry of a halo - the black beanie was lying a few feet away, forgotten or ignored.

Up close like this, the stranger stole the breath out of Jaskier’s very lungs. The man's eyes… His fucking eyes were a gorgeous molten gold in the late afternoon sun, sparking and shining like gemstones. Holding Geralt’s gaze made Jaskier feel as if his very soul was catching fire.

“Do you need a band-aid?” Jaskier asked rather stupidly, holding out the little cardboard box. Geralt nodded stoically.

“I think I scraped my arm.”

“Let me help,” Jaskier said. The student knelt beside Geralt and set the box of band-aids down. He flung open the kit and retrieved some ‘pain-free’ disinfectant, then returned to the box of bandages in search of one without a Disney princess on it. “Do you guys always do this without wearing any protective gear?”

“I’ve got a helmet,” Geralt said. He pointed towards three mismatched backpacks piled near the edge of the pavement; a bright red helmet with several semi-familiar logos stuck to it sat atop one of them.

“It’s very useful over there, keeping your backpack from cracking its skull open,” Jaskier chastised lightly, trying to keep his nerves in check. He was feeling oddly protective of a guy he’d never even met before and it was very fucking weird.

“Sorry,” Geralt shrugged. He was still laying on his back, his topaz eyes flickering between Jaskier’s hands and face. The student applied a thin layer of medical cream to the shallow scrape with shaking fingers and then wiped the remaining goo on his shirt, uncaring of the damage it may have done. He bandaged the minor wound quickly and leaned back, glancing between Lambert and Eskel as if just noticing their presence on either side of Geralt's head.

“Thanks,” Eskel grinned, holding out his hand. “I’m Eskel.”

“Jaskier,” Jaskier replied shyly. “And the loud one is Lambert, right?”

Geralt chuckled from his place on the ground and Jaskier’s heart seized painfully in his chest. What a laugh, ye gods. “Yeah, that’s Lambert. I’m Geralt.”

“Nice to meet you, Geralt,” Jaskier could practically taste the name as it melted across his tongue. “Well, not the nicest way to meet you, but I’m glad I met you all the same. Anyway.”

He stood up with a little grimace and took a step back.

“Where are you going?” Eskel asked. “You came to Geralt’s rescue so I think that means he owes you like, at least an ice cream, or something.”

“Yeah,” Lambert piped up. He smirked at the man on the ground and then turned back to Jaskier, mischief clear in his expression, “Let him take you to get an ice cream.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” Jaskier squeaked. Then he realized he’d sounded rude and held up his hands as if offering surrender (surrender for what, he wasn't exactly sure), “Not that I wouldn’t like to hang out with you more but I’ve got an assignment due and I’m sure you’re very busy doing skater things and I-”

“Am I not good enough for you?” Geralt asked, finally sitting up. He straightened his arms out behind him and rested there, reclined comfortable, a god in his temple.

Jaskier shot the older man a half-annoyed look, beating back his anxiety with a stick. “I listen to Avril Lavigne. I know not to underestimate pretty skater punks.”

“Pretty?” Geralt raised his eyebrows. Jaskier hid his face behind his hands and turned on his heel.

“Anyway, nice meeting you!” Jaskier shouted, hoping they could hear even if he was facing the opposite direction. He took off toward the edge of the park at a brisk walk, verging on a jog. He needed to go hide behind a tree and cry. What the fuck!? He was terrible at flirting and now he’d gone and ruined his chances with the guy he’d… literally just met. Chill out, he told himself - just before a strong hand clamped down over his shoulder and stopped him in his tracks.

“So not ice cream,” Geralt said. Jaskier slowly turned back to face the mostly-stranger. His lip was caught fast between his teeth and Geralt lifted one large hand to gently thumb it free again. “Maybe a boarding lesson, instead? It would give me an excuse to put my hands around your waist and you could put yours on my shoulders.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Jaskier asked. He fluttered his eyelashes and took half a step into Geralt's space.

The broad-shouldered punk smiled down at the Little Mermaid band-aid on his arm and then turned that smile to Jaskier. “Yeah.”

#he was a sk8r boi #anyway happy birthday hailie #geraskier #geraskier ficlet #geraskier fluff #bouncey's endless getting together fics #modern au #skater punk geralt #skateboarder geralt #student jaskier #JUST KISS

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