#eyes going everywhere unable to focus properly

[fairiencarnate]

Standing in line at the pharmacy when I'm off my meds I feel like I must look like I'm tweakin

[yandere-sins]

This idea came to me and I've waited a long time to actually write it, but the time is finally here!! I dedicate it to the Tsaritsa's handmaiden!reader anons, I got so overwhelmed back then that I just dropped the topic which was really not fair of me. Hope you guys enjoy!

Characters: Yandere!Childe (Genshin Impact) x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Exhibitionism, Public sex, Non-Con, Pregnancy/Impregnation Kink Mention, Needy Male, Biting), Blood Mention, Possessiveness

Snow never tasted so bad in his mouth.

For as long as Childe could remember, snow had always been bland and froze his tongue as he shoved handfuls of it into his mouth. It was iron-y from the taste of his own saliva, cold like the lonely nights.

To him, it was home.

But he couldn't say the same about it anymore as he marched into the Tsaritsa's palace, a building frozen over with her grief and suffering. It was beautiful in its own way, and yet, no concern of his. The snowflakes caught in his mouth as he had conquered the snowy path to the entrance, had not tasted like home. They tasted like an attempt to dissuade him, slow him down to get to the one true warmth he longed for.

It's been months since the last time he buried himself in your cunt.

Months of loneliness, of longing. Months that Childe spent palming his cock in the most indecent places, imagining you were there to take care of his need instead. But your image wasn't enough. It didn't thrill him the same way as chasing you did. Didn't fulfill him like the nights he spent searching every nook and cranny for you, only to be unable to find you, so he would go to your place of rest to fuck your pillow instead to release the tenstion.

It was nothing like that one time he managed to pin you down into the snow, push your skirt out of the way, and sink into you for only a moment. A brief moment that he was carelessly lost in the pleasure of your sweet, warm pussy, making it easy for you to escape out from under his grasp and disappear into the night without him fucking you properly. He could remember what it felt like to be buried inside you, but could never replicate that feeling with anyone else. Childe had been sent on this awful, long mission before he could finish what he started, all while longing for you.

Even now, he wasn't sure if the sight of you, standing behind the Tsaritsa's throne, would make him lose all control. If he could keep his composure in front of his boss when his cock was ready to burst at the smallest glimpse of you. Even if his memories grew hazy, his cock would always remember the feeling of being enveloped by you, longing to return to and unite with your sex.

Imagine the surprise when he entered the great hall, brilliant blue eyes scanning the even more brilliant white everywhere for a speck of warmth reflecting from frozen pillars, only to find none. "Tartaglia," the Tsaritsa called out, a polite, kind smile on her lips even though nothing about her screamed friendly, and he winced, forced to direct his focus where it mattered.

Even though everything screamed at him to go find you.

It was a long, unnecessarily edging meeting. Childe could barely contain himself, the nervousness of knowledge that you must be around somewhere as the Tsaritsa's handmaiden, killing him from the inside. There was an unusual sheen of sweat collecting on his forehead as he occasionally dared to look away and scan the room. It was so unlike him to be this much on edge, as if he was high on drugs—which you were to him—but the throbbing of his cock never let him live down the idea of finally burying himself in you.

"That will be all."

These four words were enough to make him snap. He uttered a barely audible, "Thanks, bye," before storming back the way he came from, leaving everyone in attendance a little more confused than before. There was always so little time to catch up to you, the chase neverending as you had proven over and over. In the hallway, servants were mingling, cleaning and repairing things, all of them faceless and looking the same to him, not worth bothering with.

Childe weaved between the countless maids and butlers, the guards standing around straightening up ever so slightly as he passed them by. He caught glimpses of everyone but dismissed them as soon as he realized they weren't you. He'd have known you from the tip of your nose, even though everyone wore the same clothes and headwear, looking almost like Dottore's clones with hardly any distinctions. Normally, Childe didn't care for the servants, but at that moment, he hated them. No matter how good he was in figuring you out, every second he could save from searching could be spent with his cock between your thighs.

People came and went as he scouted through the hallway, checking over his shoulder as if he was the one being hunted. Haunted, was probably more correct, as the thought of you was like a ghost that ran shudders down his back and made his cock throb. The hallway was branching off into smaller, less crowded areas. Fewer servants, fewer guards, more places to sneak into and hide as you always did.

He was desperate to find you, but without even a hint, Childe grew restless and hopeless at the same time. It wasn't often he felt the latter, his shoulders sacking ever so slightly as he raised his eyes to the ceiling, mustering the intricate, frozen decorations made on the building. They were beautiful. Like you. Rarely seen and yet, ever so perfect and admirable. But they also left him with a sense of longing as they were so unreachable. Would it be the same for you?

Taking a deep breath, the cold managed to clear his mind, thoughts so heated from his desire that he hadn't been able to really focus. You had to be somewhere, even if hidden from his sharp eyes. But no matter how well you could hide, Childe had long figured you out enough to find you anywhere.

Squeak.

He smirked.

He knew the sound better than anyone. It was a sign, obviously, as you still wanted him to come and find you. Otherwise, you'd have thrown away your old shoes in favor of new, not squeaky ones to break in before his arrival, regardless of the fact that they had been a gift of the Tsaritsa. The cold had already crept into his bones as he turned his head to the left, one squeak enough to tell him which of the countless, branching hallways you were in.

Even with everyone else moving around him, time seemed to slow as he took soundless steps towards where you dusted an old, unlit fireplace. He imagined this chase after his long absence to be grand, to completely wear you two down to the point you'd be lazily fucking in an empty room from exhaustion. But you had chosen a more direct approach, hiding in plain sight and yet, still apart from the crowd.

Childe could tell from the way you dusted that fireplace, your posture straight, head held high, lightly flicking the feather duster over the stone, that it was you. Undoubtedly. He saw the slight flinch in your posture as you noticed him from the corners of your eyes, his presence too strong to ignore with his fiery gaze burning holes into you. You turned, ready to leave in a hurry again and make him hunt you down like you seemed to love so much, but Childe was faster.

You must have underestimated what an obsessive need could do to someone's ferocity. Especially someone like Childe, who was out of control even without your influence. He crossed those last few steps without a sound, and yet, faster than you could step away from the fireplace, one of your gloved hands landing on the intricate stone rim as Childe's arm wrapped around you, his hand gripping between your thighs and pulling your ass against his fully erect cock.

A moment of complete silence passed you both, neither moving but waiting for the other to make a mistake that would either make or break this closeness. It was Childe who broke the silence first, taking a deep, audible breath before breathing it out, his face burying into the nape of your neck, pressing his lips to the small rim of skin above your collar.

"Found you. Missed you," he whispered, his grin widening while he placed his legs next to yours, forcing you to face towards the fireplace again and caging you there. His hands driving down your sides, you made a push backwards, your strength immaculate, especially when it caused your plush asscheeks to wrap around his shaft. Childe bit his lip, almost ready to explode from that alone, but luckily, the layers of fabric between you two took out some of the edge.

No one stopped to help, even as your hands curled into fists, and he gripped the fabric of your skirt, bundling it upwards. Childe cared very little for the servants passing by you two, unable to see much but they weren't stupid enough to interfer, stearing clear of him. He could feel the intricate fabric of your stockings, hooking his fingers around the garterbelt that kept them up and letting it snap back in place, making you flinch.

You must have been infuriated, body shivering ever so slightly as you tried to wring yourself out of his hold, Childe's fingers digging so deep into your skin that he was drawing blood. He couldn't see your face, but Childe knew it took everything you had to keep your composure, your little promise to the Tsaritsa already known to Childe. You couldn't kill him, even if you wanted.

Honestly, it excited him even more thinking about you trying to stab him.

Fingertips grazing your panties lightly, Childe felt the shape of your cunt, applying pressure to open your lips so he could test the waters. Did you miss him, too? Did you anticipate this as much as he had? Would he find you wet and ready for him after all this time apart? Childe couldn't imagine that the thought of his return didn't excite you even just a little. That your heart didn't race knowing you'd have to tiptoe around him again.

Eagerly, he curled his fingers over and over, thumb flicking your clothed clit as he caressed your pussy. Despite his own cock straining and pressing against his pants like crazy, demanding to be freed from its prison, he made sure to prepare you first, willing to wait if it meant you were ready to take all of him immediately. Who knew how much time he had before bursting. Everything had to be perfect this time.

You twisted in his hold, his hand grabbing your breast and squeezing it hard to secure you in place. It gave him the pleasure of hearing you whimper once as you straightened instead, his weight at your back pushing you towards the cold stone in front of you as he played with your breast, making sure the cold would stimulate you.

With his free hand, he loosened the buttons on your blouse, making the collar drop enough so he could pepper your skin with kisses, suckling at your nape before giving it a possessive bite. You shuddered, not allowing your sweet voice to ring out even if it hurt you, but to Childe, this was a necessary evil. A mark you couldn't erase so easily, proving to everyone and himself that you belonged to him.

"Mr. Ta- Tartaglia," you breathed out his Tsaritsa-given-name, and it had never displeased him so to hear it than when it fell off your lips.

"Ajax," he corrected, and you shook your head ever so slightly in refusal, angering him.

"This is inappropriate, please mind you manners," you tried to reprimand him, and Childe simply huffed a laugh into your ear, raising his hand with which he had petted your pussy to show you the strings of juices dripping from them.

"Don't try to be all goody-two-shoes when I felt you grinding against my hand."

"It's because this position is uncomfortable! Don't be crude!"

"Sure, if you say so."

Reaching between your legs again, you flinched as he dragged the nail of his thumb through your folds before disappearing to reach for his belt. Even with his patience, Childe had long surpassed his limits. The longer he waited, the more time he gave you to escape. You talking to him was rare enough, a clear sign that you were already plotting how to get away, and Childe realized he couldn't take another chase with his cock so painfully hard between his legs.

Like always, you struggled as you felt his shaft slip between your thighs, your plush skin welcoming him, and he groaned into your shoulder, ready to burst. Everything about you was so perfectly made for him, able to make him come in mere seconds. But if he had the choice between your legs and your now sopping wet cunt, he'd take the latter for now, your thighs a delicacy for another day.

He had to take the chance for as long as he could.

Drawing back his hips, he angled his shaft upwards, quickly using his hand to pull your underwear to the side. You gasped as, without warning, he snapped his body forward, burying himself deep inside you with no regard, your insides clenching and holding on to him with a tightness that could only belong to you.

You were deliciously upset, trying to lift yourself off him, which he allowed, plunging you back down at the last second. Childe felt the pearls of precum rise and leak into you, his cock ready to give you a perfectly good reason to stay with him forever. A family sounded like such a good idea now that he was back and ready to settle with you after the endless chases you two had in preparation for this moment.

Pushing you forward, Childe forced you up on your tiptoes, your knuckles turning pale as you gripped the rim of the stone fireplace in front of you. At the same time, your other hand had reached back, fisting his shirt to the point of ripping at it. Did you want him to not leave you so desperately? Adorable.

"So... good..." he mumbled into your shoulder as he pressed his cock even further inside you. Hilting you simply wasn't enough; Childe wanted to fill every inch of you, leaving no space for anyone else in your head and body. "You feel so good around my cock, baby."

"S-Stop!" you demanded, your voice cracking as Childe slammed his cock forward.

"I've waited so long for this, no chance I can stop now."

With very little movement outwardly, Childe humped you, reaching always an inch deeper every time he lodged his cock inside. You clutched his clothes, trying to tear them away and him off you. Still, he kept going, grunting softly into your shoulder, anticipating every sweet sound you suppressed by biting your tongue.

"S-Sir!" You wanted to sound stern, but instead, you mewled.

"Ajax," he growled back, picking up the pace as punishment for calling him the wrong name again.

Everyone could see what was happening between the poor maid and the Harbinger, but no one dared to say anything. Childe made sure that they couldn't see anything they weren't supposed to, by hiding you from view with his body and cloak. But the sounds you two made, albeit muffled, made most of the staff scurrying around you two blush and hurry by.

He didn't care.

All that mattered was your soft, squelching cunt opening up for him and swallowing his cock like a playful little temptress. He could kiss your soft skin and smell the expensive scents that the Tsaritsa made you wear, all while nibbling, assaulting, and marking you like the madman he was. You were everything, capturing every thought and sense of his as Childe felt himself come undone.

"So tight," he groaned, leaving almost no space between your bodies.

His hips picked up the pace, more desperate and eager than before. Soon enough, he lowered the arms he had caged you with, digging his fingers into your hips instead, guiding your flesh up and down his shaft to get himself off. Soon, he'd give you a beautiful little family and you'd forever warm his bed, ready to take his cock at any given time. The chase, although he'd miss it, would come to an end if your belly was round and swollen with his child and he'd get to take a different job around Snezhnaya so he could go home to you and the kid every evening and proceed to fuck you senseless every night. It would be a dream come true—a final, successful hunt.

You were letting out the prettiest gasps as you reached for his wrists, trying to break them with how crushing your grip was, but even so, Childe wouldn't let go. He was obsessed with finally finishing inside you, claiming you in a way no one else had. You were a shuddering mess impaled on his cock and he'd have not wanted you any other way.

Your cunt was dripping with juices by now, letting Childe know you were ready to cum and welcome his seed; ready to finally cave and become all his. You'd be such a pretty mommy, carrying his child and making him a daddy, all while trying to explain to everyone you worked with that you didn't get pregnant while you were assaulted in the hallway. You'd admit you did it with him on other occasions just to save face.

Childe would happily help this lie be more convincing.

Between grunts, he couldn't help but whimper as his thrusts became irregular and hard, all with the purpose to go as deep into you as possible and feel you completely. You were helping him, rocking your hips high and teasing his tip with your shuddering walls until he was finally close enough to taste the sweet release.

Childe groaned loudly, feeling his cum rush through his shaft when you suddenly pushed away from him. There was too much to think about and focus on, and his brain was overwhelmed with all the tasks, giving you the chance to escape. Your breaths were heavy as your cunt slipped off his dick, and you let out a soft gasp before pushing your skirt down and walking off quickly with your gaze lowered, not looking at anyone or anything.

You left him behind to fend for himself.

Unable to stop it, Childe spilled his cum all over the freshly cleaned fireplace, strings of white seeping into the stone pitifully as his seed was wasted on it. He couldn't think straight; he just kept coming pitifully, with his head fallen back and his hips jutting into the air.

You fucking minx.

Leading him on and then disappearing. You waited until the last moment for your escape, ruining everything Childe had built up to. What about your orgasm? Your pleasure? Could you just endure leaving without? Would you get it from someone else?

Panic and anger zapped through him as the last of his cum shot pitifully out of him. He'd not let anyone else make you orgasm. Not another servant, a lover, not even the Tsaritsa! Maybe he didn't finish like he wanted, but that gave no one else the right to enjoy themselves with you. You were his and his alone.

A grin spread over his lips as he stared at the cold, intricate patterns on the ceiling once again. Now, they looked so much more beautiful, even as they were unreachable. Because you weren't. He found you once and he'd find you again, his cock twitching as anticipation spread through him. He'd make you cum so hard, you'd see stars. And then again and again until you could think of nothing else but him, bewitching you in the same way you had him. You'd want no one else, unable to think of anyone beside Childe and his cock when he was done with you.

Once more, the chase was on.

And Childe wouldn't want it any other way.

[livelaughlovesubs]

I have a small request which you can totally ignore if yous wants but-

Imagine Poe (bsd) feeling he isn't good enough and making a self-deprecating comment and reader fucking him while making him say (or until he says) he's worth it 💖

Ohhhh, that’s kinda sweet~ I like it heh

Dom!reader x sub!poe

Warning: pegging (can be read as a dick), praise kink, overstimulation, marking, fucked dumb

“Who’s my good boy? Who’s doing such a good job right now?”

There was only one right answer. It was him. Of course it was your dear partner. He’s been obeying you so nicely, bouncing up and down on top of you without taking a break. His back was facing you, giving you a nice view of his ass, as well as how your dick gets hurried inside him each time he slumps back into your lap. These shaking hands grabbed yours, making you hold onto his waist harder and leaving bruises behind.

You leaned against him, lips hovering above his neck as your hot breath tickled his skin. A shiver ran down his spine when you whispered something again, “answer me, pretty boy.” That’s what you said, but you wouldn’t give him time to speak and think! Relentlessly pounding him while kissing and sucking on his back, painting his body with marks and hickeys. Who would under such circumstances be able to speak properly? All he could let out were soft sobs paired with high-pitched whimpers. Back arched away from you, hands bawled into fists as he slams himself against your crotch.

His hair was a messy nest, flying around and obstructing his view, not that he could have registered anything anyway since he was only focused on the stretching feeling inside him. Every time he slows down for what reason ever, you’d run your hip upwards to meet his, hitting his prostate with such pinpoint accuracy that it makes him see stars. Electricity would course through his body like huge waves of pleasure, rendering him unable to even form a single coherent word. One of poe’s hands was wrapped around his dick to jerk himself off. But poor baby has been too distracted by the feeling of getting fucked dumb, so much that he forgot to move his hand. Now only holding it like it’s some kind of broken decoration that’s leaking its filth everywhere.

Really, everywhere. His precum spread to the sheets, his thighs, and even his belly. Now everything became sticky because of him. What a naughty boy he was, creating such a chaos. When Poe still didn’t muster enough energy to answer your questions, you squeezed down on his hips, getting a better grip before forcing him up and down your cock in a rough pace. “Hu- ah..aAAHHhHNHgG wait- y/n..!! Too much oh <3 too much!” He’d complain, but due to the moans it doesn’t sound very convincing. Watching his muscles tighten as more tears roll down his body, along with droplets of sweat. His rosy cheeks were so adorable, his body too, so perfect for you. A perfect little toy for you to adore.

Once again you groaned into his ear, “tell me, Poe, who’s my good boy?” After you finished your sentence, you noticed how his rim clenched down on you, holding onto you without wanting to let go. “Mhmm..! I- I…” he tried to answer you, he really did, yet whenever he opens his mouth only more whines would spill out. “Go on baby, take your time.” You smirked at him, a comforting smile that told him everything will be alright. Poe closed his eyes in an attempt to collect his thoughts, but it backfired and made him focus only on the way you stretched his walls. God it was heavenly, it was ecstasy he never experienced before. Whenever you just meekly brushed against his sweet spot, he’d mewl and squeak like a little slut.

This is no good, he was close, he had to answer you or else he might receive a punishment. Why do you want him to praise himself anyway? It’s so embarrassing! When you once again drove your dick deep inside him, hitting spots he never knew existed, he lost all energy and slumped back against your chest. A melting expression on his face as drool dripped down his chin, body sore from all the overstimulation already. His legs twitched around as a poor attempt to balance out the pleasure he received. He was exhausted, he couldn’t keep going anymore, all he did in that moment was giving himself to you completely, letting you use him like a toy.

“This won’t do, you have to speak, pretty boy.” You reminded him, while clasping one hand over his, the one pathetically trying to play with his own member. “Uhh.. it feels ah, hNng too good.” He gave out, barely able to register the meaning of your words. “Hmm, but you can speak right? Need me to repeat my question?” Even now you didn’t give up, fucking his brains out while giving him orders. “Hic, hmm… m-me… ah, I’m your go- uhHnn good boy..<3” Poe answered eventually, after that his tongue stuck out and his eyes rolled back. As if you milking his prostate wasn’t enough, you were forcing his hand to pump his length up and down now as well! He was going to break at this point!

“Good job, that’s right, you are my loveliest good boy, so be proud of it alright?” You said, before pointing into him faster and harder as a reward. “AhhHHHHh!! OohhH! Too much- too deep!!! Y/n HngHh, too fasttt!!” Aww, he’s crying about how he can’t handle this again, such an adorable thing. Since he’s encouraging you so feverishly, you had to respond to his pleads, right? Grinning from ear as to ear as you mumbled, “Shh, don’t worry, you won’t break that quick, I want to make this moment last.”

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[TF141 with a fragile reader]

Price

He couldn’t forget the first time he got the phone call from the hospital only to learn that you passed out and got sent there. You set him as your emergency contact, so when he knew that you were at the ER, he lost his usual calmness, even forgot to bring his favorite cigar with him, and rushed to the hospital. After the experience, he bought you a watch that could monitor your health state, and make sure you text him once in a while so he knew that you were okay. He goes with you to the return appointment too, and asks how to improve your health or take care of you more properly.

Soap

He’s not as worried as other men, not that he doesn't care about you, but he just chooses to keep an optimistic attitude. Your doctor tells you to do some exercise every day, and Johnny is your best companion. He will walk with you even though your pace is slow, he has all the patience to follow your speed, brings water and some snacks with him in case you get tired, and rambles and entertains you during the stroll so you won’t feel bored.

Gaz

He searches through the whole internet to understand your disease more, taking notes and buying the things or nutrients that could help you sustain your health. You sometimes forget to take your pills, and he will scold you tenderly while bringing you your medicines, he makes sure to stick notes everywhere in the house, so wherever you go, the notes remind you to take pills on time when he’s deployed.

Ghost

He always keeps an eye on you, You are frail — sometimes will even pass out — and this makes Simon additionally aware of your state. If he notices you start walking wobbly or your eyes are unable to focus, he will rush to your side and carry you to bed. Insist on wrapping you in 500 layers of clothes if you two are going out in cold weather, or force you to stay in bed and cook some chicken broth for you when you’re feeling sick.

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

two / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when you break your arm in the plane crash, Jackie seems to be helping you out more than usual and you're left wondering why.

warning/s: mentions of a plane crash, amputation, broken bones.. the usual warnings that come with Yellowjackets lol.

author's note: this has been ready for a while now, as have a few other things whilst i work on some old requests. sorry for the delay with everything - i’ve been very busy, but i hope you like this two part jackie imagine :)

I could hear screaming and shouting, there was smoke everywhere and, despite my confusion, I knew I needed to get out of here before the smoke suffocated me.

Clipping off my seatbelt, I scrambled out of the aisle and briefly looked around, unable to make sense of anything, and then my head was spinning and I couldn't stay here any longer. Fresh air. I needed to breathe and then I could work out what was what.

Following the sound of screaming seemed counterproductive, but that was the way out, so I dragged my body – which felt like it had been thrown around in a blender – out the back of the plane and to... the middle of the forest?

The team. Some of them were running around, doing all sorts I couldn't seem to focus on, whilst others were bent over, catching their breath, appearing dazed and confused like me. I didn't get long to think about how I'd ended up here when, suddenly, someone shoved into me from behind and I fell forward, landing right on my outstretched arm.

A scream escaped my lips at the pain that struck, it breaking through the fog of confusion. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears pricking them instinctively, and tried to breathe through the pain. Pushing myself up with my other hand, I grimaced at the slight movement of my left arm, which had to be broken considering I couldn't do anything with it.

It wasn't until after all the chaos, after everybody had stopped screaming and vomiting and crying, that the realisation that our plane had crashed hit us. And by then, I was too preoccupied with my broken arm. Imagine coming out of a plane crash unscathed, only to get pushed down and left with a broken arm. Very stupid, indeed.

Surprisingly, Misty was the only one who could work under pressure, barely fazed by everything happening and instead tending to everyone's injuries as quickly as she could. Upon realising I'd broken my arm, she immediately made me her best attempt at a splint using some sticks and an old ripped shirt, as well as helping me into a makeshift sling using the same ripped shirt. Given the circumstances, it was as good as a cast, but she didn't know the extent of the damage and I couldn't do anything more.

The first two days were a struggle, mainly because nobody knew what to do nor where to go. That was when the horrible acceptance of losing several members of our team, including one of our coaches, hit everyone hard. We all pitched in to bury them, though I wasn't able to do much with my arm, and held a funeral for them.

After the funeral ended, everybody stuck together in the vicinity of the crash. A few lingered away, probably trying to figure out where the hell we were, but I just wanted a sense of familiarity and stayed to open my suitcase which I'd luckily found. Unfortunately for me, the zipper required two hands, and only one of mine seemed to be available right now.

"Hey."

I sighed, looking up to see Jackie Taylor, the soccer team captain, standing there with her arms hugging herself. I hadn't spoken to her properly since before we set off, she'd mostly just stuck with Shauna, her best friend.

"Hey," I greeted, unsure what she wanted.

She nodded to my terrible sling. "How's your arm?"

"Very painful," I admitted, "but coach literally lost his leg, so I can't complain."

She frowned at my words, but it wasn't exactly an exaggeration. Misty had quite literally chopped Coach Scott's leg off when he got it trapped under the wing of the plane, and it wasn't an easy thing to deal with physically or mentally. A broken arm was nothing compared to an amputation.

"How are you?" I asked. She didn't look hurt, just tired and scared like the rest of us.

She shrugged helplessly, and I didn't need any elaboration. I nodded, acknowledging her, and then she said, "Do you need help with whatever you're doing?"

I looked down, remembering the dumb suitcase I couldn't open. "That would be great actually, yes. Can you hold it whilst I unzip it?"

She nodded and kneeled down, acting as my other hand whilst I unzipped my suitcase. It was a relief to finally open it, seeing everything was as I'd left it before we boarded the plane. That felt like a lifetime ago now.

"If you need help with anything else, just ask," Jackie said, making me look up to see her watching me.

Grateful, I offered her a small smile. "Thanks, Jackie."

She returned the smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. She'd been the first to offer her help in the first place, since everyone was preoccupied by their own trauma, so I appreciated it. Truthfully, the last person I expected to offer help was Jackie, since she usually thought of herself first.

"You should get some medication off Misty," she added. "It'll help with the pain."

I swallowed hard, smile fading. "Right. Thanks."

She nodded and left, glancing at me once more as she did. I didn't really question it as I looked back at my suitcase, distracting myself from the pain.

Later that day, Misty found me instead, immediately pouring out the medication she'd collated from everyone's suitcases in front of me.

"Misty, what are you–?"

"I've got some pills for you," she said nonchalantly.

"Oh, my arm doesn't hurt that much," I lied. "Coach needs–"

"There's enough for Ben, silly," she said with a laugh, making me quirk a brow. "Besides, it's not for your pain, though it will help with that, it's for the inflammation. Without surgery, that's gonna take a while to heal and anything we have can help."

I sighed, nodding. "Alright. Thanks."

"I'll give you them every dose," she said, before holding out two pills. "Here you go."

I silently accepted them, knowing they'd help but feeling bad that I'd be taking them when Coach Scott needed them more.

—

Finding the lake and the cabin was a lifesaver, literally. We needed water and somewhere to sleep that wasn't so out in the open, and I was already struggling to sleep as it was so at least being inside made it a little easier.

Oddly enough, over the next few days since moving into the cabin, I'd noticed Jackie staring at me. If I ever caught her eye, she'd look the other way or flash me a smile before awkwardly doing something else. I wasn't sure what was up, and it only became more questionable when she'd help me out if I needed it.

There was one time when I was trying to pull my shoes on, but struggling to tie the laces with my one good arm.

"Here, I got it," she said, coming out of nowhere to lean down in front of me and take over.

I watched her with curiosity, letting her tie my laces. She must've caught me staring as she looked up, eyes bright as they met mine.

"What?" she asked, standing back up.

I shook my head. "Nothing... thanks."

She nodded, smiling a little before leaving me be. And that wasn't it. Other times I'd be trying to carry something and she'd take it from me without a word, or I'd be pulling on a shirt and she'd quite literally help me into it. It was odd, because she'd never paid me any mind before, and wasn't very helpful to others. The other girls aided me when they occasionally saw me struggling, but not as much as Jackie.

Another time, I was struggling to sleep in my makeshift bed on the floor of the cabin. Everybody had fallen asleep hours ago, but my movement was restricted because of my arm and the shuffling I was doing was only bothering me more.

"You move a lot," a voice said in the firelight, startling me.

I looked over the room, past my sleeping team members, and saw it was Jackie laying on her side next to Shauna but facing me.

"Sorry," I mumbled guiltily. "Did I wake you?"

She shrugged, not answering my question, before saying, "Try elevating your arm."

"What?"

"That's why you can't sleep, right?" she asked.

I blinked, surprised she'd even noticed. "Yeah."

She sat up slowly, stretching, before crossing the room to grab what looked like a jacket. My eyes followed her as she moved, then she rolled it up before kneeling down beside me and placing it underneath my bad arm. I winced as she did so carefully, glancing at me apologetically, but then I relaxed my arm on top of the jacket and breathed out slowly.

"Is that better?" she asked quietly. "Won't be touching the ground now."

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Jackie."

"No problem," she said, before returning to her bed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I replied, very tired and very confused.

That was when I knew I needed to ask her why she was being so considerate, so out of character, at least to me anyway. The next morning, after I'd done the one thing I could do with my arm which was collecting water from the lake when we needed it, I was bringing it to Akilah who was boiling it over the fire. Unfortunately, I tripped over a stone on the way, almost dropping the bucket. Jackie came out of nowhere, taking it from my hand and leaving it with Akilah before returning to me.

"You okay?" she asked with a raised brow, hand wavering over my arm.

I tilted my head curiously. "I– yeah. I just..."

She smiled with confusion, shaking her head. "What is it?"

I stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "Why do you keep helping me? Checking on me?"

She scoffed playfully, looking away before saying, "I'm still your captain. Gotta make sure the team's okay, right?"

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, but I didn't have anything else to believe, so I gave in with a nod. "Yeah..."

"Take it easy," she said, eyes flickering to my arm before she left me.

—

Since we'd been stranded here, I'd only rinsed off in the lake once. That was a week ago when we found it, but I knew I needed to bathe properly and, after taking my shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, I headed for the lake. Washing my body was a struggle because of my arm, which had swollen so much to the point that even accidentally grazing my body with it sent a shot of pain in me.

I managed to wash my body the best I could, getting my tee-shirt sling wet but unable to do much else, then struggled to wash my hair. It was stupid, the fact that I couldn't even open a bottle of shampoo with one hand and squeeze it out. So much that I got overwhelmed with how useless I'd been feeling lately and threw it behind me onto the shore. Sulking, I stayed sitting in the water, submerged up to my legs in my bra and underwear.

I missed home. I missed my mum and my dad and my sister. I missed playing soccer. I even missed school. But most importantly, I missed having two working arms and not constantly being in pain. The longer we stayed out here, the more we established a routine, the less likely it felt we would be rescued. It was all piling on top of me, my uselessness being the cherry on top.

Staring out into the horizon, I frowned. Ten more minutes must have passed with me giving up on washing my hair when I heard footsteps not far behind me. I didn't bother turning around, but then whoever it was called me.

"Hey!"

Sighing deeply, I glanced over my shoulder, so fed up with everything that even my usual surprise at Jackie's presence didn't affect me.

"You not coming out?" she asked, stood at the edge of the water, hands on her hips.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and ignored her, looking forward again. Maybe she'd get the hint and leave me alone. Of course, she didn't.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them.

"Nothing," I said, voice muffled.

I heard her sigh from behind me before her footsteps approached me, her feet splashing in the water.

"I'm bathing," I told her knowingly. "A little privacy would be nice."

She snorted with amusement before I heard her shuffling. Confused, I turned around and saw her pulling off her shorts before throwing them onto the rocky shore with her slippers, leaving her in her underwear and tee shirt.

"What are you doing?" I asked, puzzled.

She ignored me, instead grabbing the shampoo bottle I'd thrown back. Glancing at it and to me, she quirked a brow sarcastically. "This yours?"

I rolled my eyes and faced forward again, not bothering to acknowledge her presence as she seemed to be approaching me again. Only when she stood in front of me, blocking my view, and kneeled down to look at me was I forced to meet her gaze.

"D'you need help?" she asked softly, considerately.

Embarrassed, I looked down to my knees. Was it that obvious that I was struggling? Why was she the only one to check on me? The only one to notice? Why did she even care?

"Will you let me help you?" she asked when I didn't speak, and I finally looked up.

"Why?" I asked helplessly. "What's the point?"

She sat down cross-legged, unbothered by the water that was lapping against the bottom of her shirt. "For one, the smell in the cabin would go down significantly."

Realising she was joking, humour sparkling in her earth-coloured eyes, I scoffed and looked the other way. She began to laugh before patting my knee.

"Come on," she pleaded, laughter fading into a hopeful smile. "Please."

I didn't want anybody's help, especially not hers. But I needed it, and if she was being so kind as to come out here just to make sure I was okay, maybe it wasn't all so bad.

With a reluctant nod, I let her wash my hair for me, glad I wouldn't have to cause an ache in my other arm trying to do it. It was quiet as she did it, other than when she instructed me to dip my head in the water to wash out the shampoo and conditioner. Her fingers were delicate when she worked, massaging my head and putting me at ease instantly. I was still surprised at her aid, considering she'd always been preoccupied by herself or Shauna.

After I was done, she moved back in front of me, about to speak, but then her eyes caught sight of my swollen arm in my cast and widened.

"Woah, that looks painful," she noticed.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

"Are you taking the medicine Misty is giving you?" she asked with concern.

I tried not to hesitate as I nodded, lying. Truthfully, I hadn't been taking the medicine since a few days ago, as I knew Coach Scott's leg was at risk of infection if he didn't have enough. Besides, I'd taken some and the swelling had been going down. This was a bad day is all. Kind of.

"Okay, well...," she started, eyes lingering on my arm with an unreadable expression, before she stood up and held out her hand. "You're done. Come on."

I accepted her hand and she led me back to the shore, kindly helping me back into my clothes. After pulling her shorts and shoes on, I instantly hugged her with my good arm, certainly surprising her.

"Thanks, Jackie," I said sincerely, pulling back and seeing her raised eyebrows. "You don't know how good you're being."

She smiled, preoccupied. "Don't. I'm just helping."

I begged to differ, but she wasn't in the mood to hear it and I wasn't going to fight her on it. Instead, I just offered her a small smile before we both headed back to the cabin together.

Later that day, I was sat in the woods for some alone time, perched on a log and reading my book, when suddenly something was thrown right at me, startling me.

"What the hell?!" Jackie shouted, and I looked up to see she'd found me and was furious.

Confused, I looked to see what she'd thrown at me, only to realise it was the medication I hadn't been taking. Oh, no.

"You aren't taking it!" she shouted with exasperation.

I looked up to her, still baffled. "How did you even–”

"I'm not stupid," she snapped, before taking a deep breath to contain herself.

"It doesn't matter," I said calmly. "Coach needs them more. He's literally lost his leg and–"

"Why do you keep belittling your injury?!" she asked in a broken voice. "Nobody needs a hero, Y/N, just take the damn meds!"

The patronising tone she was using was it for me, and I suddenly stood up, unable to let her make me feel bad anymore.

"Why the hell do you even care, Jackie?" I retorted.

Taken aback, she raised her eyebrows before crossing her arms and avoiding my eyes. "I'm the cap–"

"Nobody gives a shit about that anymore!" I cut her off, before glaring at her. "You never paid me any mind before, so what gives now, huh? Did Jackie fucking Taylor suddenly grow a heart?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously, why the hell do you care all of a sudden?" I continued. "Why do you–?"

"Because it's my damn fault!" she said, and my anger was momentarily replaced by further confusion. She continued to ramble, "I didn't mean to, but the plane was on fire and Shauna was going to get hurt and I just rushed out of there without thinking and I didn't mean to push you and then you broke your arm and I feel guilty, okay?!"

Furrowing my brows, I studied her as she took a deep breath. Though she was stressed by her admission of guilt, I was oddly calm.

"That was just an accident," I said, unsure why it mattered to her so much. "If that's why you've been helping me, why you've been keeping an eye on me... you can stop. I'm not dying."

"Yeah, now," she said knowingly, guilt-laden eyes meeting mine, "but when a fucking bear comes out of nowhere and tries to eat you, what are you gonna do with one arm?"

It took me a second to realise she was dead serious, and I tried very hard not to smile.

"If a bear tried to eat me and I had my arm, I'd still get eaten," I said matter-of-factly. "You think I can take on a bear?"

She groaned with discontent. "You don't get it!"

I covered my mouth, struggling not to smile in front of her and piss her off more. She only fixed me with a classic Jackie glare.

"Just take the fucking meds," she said threateningly, in a way that was reminiscent of a cute dog barking, before storming off.

Admittedly, I had to pause and think about what the hell just happened, still a little lost. All this time, she'd been helping me out of guilt? She blamed herself for my broken arm? It was an accident and she couldn't have known what would happen. Tensions were high, it was chaos! I couldn't blame her even if I tried. It was almost laughable how she'd reacted, though at least it explained her sudden interest in my welfare.

When I returned to the cabin after her outburst, she glanced at me once but didn't bother speaking to me. And when I thought it would be a temporary thing, she began to ignore me over the next few days, actively avoiding me. If it weren't to share the cabin to sleep, she'd either completely leave the space I was in or go as far away from me as she possibly could. Could've been guilt, anger or embarrassment, I wasn't sure, but I knew it was extremely childish.

I was filling up a bottle of water from our basin when she rounded the corner and saw me, clearly wanting to do the same judging from her own bottle in hand. One glance my way and she was ready to leave, but I decided to make the first move after a week of not speaking.

"I'm not gonna bite," I pointed out.

She clenched her jaw with indifference. "I know."

A smile ghosted my lips as I focused on filling my bottle, and she surprisingly approached the basin and did the same. It was silent, the sound of our movement filling the air, but she was still tense beside me. It felt all wrong, especially after how supportive she'd been since we got here.

"I'm taking my medicine by the way," I said casually, but I wanted her to know that she hadn't wasted her breath. I'd listened.

"That's good," she spoke after a moment, trying not to sound too bothered.

"Yeah, I wasn't going to, but then this angry soccer player who was crushing under the immense guilt from foreshadowing my improbable yet supposedly imminent death by bear made me feel bad," I continued calmly.

She paused her action, glancing at me with a look of disbelief, and I couldn't hold in my laughter any longer. Her expression was priceless.

"Asshole," she muttered, but she was clearly trying not to smile.

I capped my bottle before saying, "This is awkward. Stop avoiding me, please. I don't hate you or anything. And you don't need to keep checking on me out of guilt. We can just... go back to normal, whatever that was."

She gave me a disapproving glance. "It wasn't just out of guilt."

I raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Believe it or not, Y/N, I do care about you," she said, surprising me. And then she added quickly, "I care about everyone here."

Heart warming at her words, I began to feel bad for what I'd said to her when we argued. "Thanks," I said quietly. "And I'm sorry for what I said, about you suddenly growing a heart. Wasn't nice at all. Or true."

She shrugged awkwardly, looking down. "It's okay. I've been a bit selfish lately. I know the girls say it. Even Shauna thinks it.”

I looked over at her, noticing the conflicted expression she wore. Underneath her confident, cool girl demeanour was just a normal teenager like everyone else, and right now, she looked more and more like that.

"Not always," I reminded her, hoping she knew that I was still grateful for what she'd done for me since the crash, guilt or no guilt.

She exhaled softly, an appreciative smile on her lips, and I was beginning to question if breaking my arm was worth giving me a reason to get to know Jackie Taylor in a different way.

—

When there wasn't the threat of survival creeping up on us, or the fear of being stranded away from our lives back home forever, there was complete and utter boredom. There was only so many times you could play the same card games or read the same books without wanting to smack your head against a wall.

I realised soon enough that I missed playing soccer and one  day when I was having a wander near the cabin, I began to subconsciously kick around an acorn. That was where acorn soccer began. Now, whenever I was fed up doing the same thing all the time, I'd go into a little clearing near the cabin and start kicking around an acorn to have a sense of normalcy.

This time, as I was dribbling the acorn around some sticks, I heard someone approaching and glanced up to see it was Jackie.

"What are you doing?" she asked with both amusement and curiosity.

"Playing soccer," I said like it was obvious, before kicking the acorn in the air towards her. Instinctively, she caught it with her foot, stabilising it and letting it hit the ground gently. I cracked a smile, saying, "Someone's not lost their touch."

She rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "So this is where you disappear to?"

I quirked a brow. "Why? You keeping tabs?"

"You wish you were that interesting," she retorted, kicking around the acorn.

"Interesting enough for you to track down, clearly," I teased.

She glanced at me with a glint of humour in her eyes. "Maybe I just needed to make sure the bear didn't get you."

I grinned. "Aw, you do care! Nice to know you have my back."

At this, she finally let out a laugh, teeth showing and eyes sparkling and in such a way that I couldn't help but admire how pretty she looked right now.

"Okay, where's the goal?" she asked after a moment, pausing from kicking around the acorn.

"What?"

She gave me a look. "I'm bored too, now c'mon."

I chuckled and began to explain to her the unimpressive yet fulfilling setup I had, which consisted of me kicking the acorn between two trees as a 'net'. Once she was caught up, we found a bigger acorn together and began to play.

It was almost like we were back at soccer practice, playing and having fun and not having to worry about any impending doom. I'd forgotten how good it could feel to just be, and I'd especially forgotten how good Jackie was at soccer, making for the perfect opponent.

She scored for the third time and raised her hands in the air as she cheered for herself. "Hell yeah!"

"You see, this is why we got to nationals," I reminded her, making her laugh.

"God, I forgot how fun soccer was," she said with a sigh. "Clever idea with the acorn."

I shrugged. "Boredom struck. Creativity thrived."

She snickered, hands on her hips, before nodding at my arm. "Should you even be playing with your arm like that?"

I quirked a brow. "What you gonna do? Rat me out to Misty?"

She snorted with amusement. "She's too busy with Coach Scott to care."

I tried not to laugh, knowing Misty had been enjoying herself a little too much with looking after Coach Scott and his leg. It was clear she liked him, and though he was aware of how inappropriate it was, he had no choice but to accept her help. Yeah, the last thing on Misty's mind was if I was playing acorn soccer or not.

"Okay, you ready for the next one?" Jackie asked, already kicking the acorn into the centre to start again. "I might just take it easy on you this time. Y'know, because you're at a disadvantage."

I glared at her playfully, ignoring the way her cocky grin made me feel. "Game on, Taylor."

—

Since that point, I'd found myself looking out for Jackie a little more than usual. I guess you could say she'd piqued my interest more than she ever had. Back home, she was my team captain and that was it. We never really hung out outside of practice or soccer parties because our circles never crossed over. Now though, with her looking out for me and hanging out with me more, I was beginning to develop a little crush on her.

I would've been insane not to. She was funny, flirty, smart and she always knew what she wanted. And it was probably silly of me to crush on the one girl I could never get, but it certainly made my current situation a bit more manageable. Nothing like a teenage crush to get your mind off reality.

I liked to think I was subtle with it, the whole checking out Jackie every now and then. It was only when she was a fair distance away and there was no chance she would spot me. But one morning, as I was helping Akilah boil some more water from the lake, I spotted Jackie walking out of the cabin with Shauna. It was nothing different, but for some reason, she just looked extra stunning this morning. I wasn't sure what it was – possibly my own delusion – but I couldn't stop stealing looks at her.

And then she glanced my way, catching my eye, and before I could even react, embarrassed I'd been caught out, a knowing smile appeared on her lips and she winked playfully before paying her attention back to Shauna. I swallowed, flustered, and didn't look at her again for the rest of the day. Stupid crush.

[giorno-plays-piano]

House of Chains

Part IV

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x mage!reader

Warnings: noncon, smut, yandere, obsession, canon-typical violence, chase scenes, death of minor characters.

Words: 1.5k

Summary: In return for help to come back to your home world, you have been faithfully supporting the Greens to put Aegon on the throne. But when your promise is fulfilled, neither Otto nor Aemond are keen on letting you go.

Part I

Part II

Part III

_________

You lie on your bed in silence, disheveled Aemond right next to you, shoulders touching, as you both stare at the high ceiling, unable to sleep. It hurts there, between your thighs, although not as bad as you expected. He had prepared you in the end.

It wasn't that painful. Physically, that is. Aemond really isn't a hero-lover, but he was surprisingly attentive, at least not seeking to injure you as a sort of revenge. He kissed you and whispered words of comfort, his large, calloused hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, and it made you feel like a little girl when he craddled your head. Then you cried, and he stopped right away, and you asked him not to. You asked him to do that again through tears, and in that moment, you finally saw his handsome face twisted in regret.

It hurt you the most.

You make yourself unclech your jaw and take a deep breath as you blink, returning to reality. Luckily, your power continues to recover, and it's almost enough to cast a sleeping spell. But what then? How do you evade all those guards behind your doors? Otto must have tripled them in hopes of detaining you, and you can't use invisibility incantation and keep it until you leave the castle. It would take you a day to recover enough magic, and by then, God knows what the Greens would do to you. Besides, just because you become invisible, it doesn't mean you will just slip through the gate like a ghost with no one noticing.

Slip through the gates. Or, perhaps, through the castle walls. There is a spell for that, too, and you don't need much magic if you can concentrate properly. Why take the corridor if you can make yourself slip directly through the stone floors and keep going until you are in the dungeons? The third level has enough empty cells for you to hide and wait out until your magic is replenished, and neither Otto nor Aemond will ever think of the dungeons as your hiding place.

Fantastic. You couldn't have thought of a more perfect plan, you think as you grin to yourself. Now, the only difficulty would be to concentrate on the incantation and not make yourself stuck in the stone floor, which would instantly kill you...

"What was your happiest day in this world?" Aemond asks quietly, his head turned to you, and you flinch.

You have almost forgotten that he is still awake. Aemond has been having insomnia even before you came to this place, but you doubt he'd fall asleep under these circumstances, anyway.

Furrowing your brows, you try to focus on his question.

"The night when Tyrells came," you mutter, gazing at the milky canopy above your head. "We held a welcoming ceremony for them."

Aemond shifts slightly, his face unreadable in the dark. "Yes?"

"It was my first time seeing your people dancing, and I thought it was lovely. The way you dressed the room in green and gold... and lit candles everywhere. The musicians with their flutes and tamburines, people laughing... I loved every second of it," you speak softly even when it feels like you're suffocating yourself with words. "I remember wanting to dance so badly, but no one would ask me out. Haha, of course, why would they when your grandfather looked like he'd kill anyone who says a word to me?"

You force yourself to swallow a lump in your throat, your eyes growing suspiciously wet as you keep staring up, afraid to turn your head towards the man you have to share your bed with tonight.

"And then... and then you saw me distressed and took me to dance."

Unfortunately, regardless of your resolve, you can't stop yourself from crying. You don't even know why you are telling him this. What will he understand? He is a Targaryen prince itching to sit on the Iron Throne. Your words won't change anything.

As you curl into a tight ball, hiding your face in your knees, Aemond is right beside you, his arm sneaking in to hug you by the waist from behind, pressing himself to your back. If you weren't trembling from wailing, you'd feel him shaking a little, too.

_________

By the time you cast a spell on him, you have already worked out a plan. Picking up your clothes from the floor, you wince in pain, your womanhood aching, and force yourself to keep moving. You can't risk anyone walking in your chamber when you can't defend yourself. Besides, the earlier you move down the dungeons, the more the chance everyone will be asleep: you don't want to think what's going to happen is some maid sees you emerging through the ceiling.

You look back at peacefully sleeping Aemond on your bed. You hold a knife in your hand, and for a second, you think of slashing his throat in revenge for what he's done to you. This is how those who offend a mage pay in your world, and you know no one from the Tower would question your choice.

But Aemond stirrs slightly, his long, milky white hair shifting to the side, revealing his serene face, and in this very moment, he looks like a boy again, harmless and pure. He curls into himself just like you did not so long ago, and you feel it with all your being: killing him won't diminish your pain. If anything, it will only make it worse because there is still a small part of you hoping Aemond is not a power-crazed monster who's following in Otto's footsteps. Maybe he'll understand. Maybe one day he'll make a different choice.

You grab your carefully assembled sac and begin chanting.

____________

You are able to escape only three days after. It takes you a long, long time to recover your magic to the maximum in the dungeons smelling of blood and rot below Red Keep. Ironically, it is the only place in the whole castle where you were able to fall asleep. Choosing the farthest cell that has been empy for a while, you dream in the dark, seeing faces of those you murdered for the Greens' sake.

But hiding in the dungeons is worth it: you are able to maintain the invisibility spell nearly until reaching Flea Bottom, itching to leave the city before Otto catches you. The number of guards you see on the street has grown three times under the pretense of searching for supporters of Rhaenyra - which might as well be true - but you know he searches for you with even more vigor.

You prefer not to think of Aemond. Hopefully, he didn't take Vhagar and fly right to Dragonstone as some sort of suicide mission just to find you.

Not that what you are doing can be called something else.

When you arrive to the island, masked as one of Kingsguard who swore loaylty to Rhaenyra and left King's Landing in secret, you are more than half-drained: changing your appearance isn't easy, especially so drastically. Neither do you enjoy wearing armor and a heavy sword while pretending to laugh at dumb soldiers' jokes and then keep a gloomy facade because of the war looming dangerously close. You are concerned, yes, but for a different reason.

By the time you are marching to the castle, you have enough magic to keep an invisibility spell for half an hour at best and a little more for a small shield against dragon's breath if something goes wrong. But that's all you have left, and if something truly goes wrong, you will most likely be eaten by an angry dragon.

Should have brought some poison, you think with bitterness as you blend in with other white cloaks before you chant an invisibility spell, trying to navigate an unknown castle that you immediately hate as much as the Red Keep with its stony walls and cold winds blowing throw every crack and crevice. Were it up to you, you would burn this place.

Perhaps Aemond will. The thought immediately sours your already foul mood.

Here they are, the fancy chambers of Targaryens on the top floor. Rhaenyra's and Daemon's ones are empty, likely because they are holding a council with everyone they were able to summon at such short notice, but it's not them you are seeking. Not right now, at least.

Lucerys is the first one you catch, returning to his chambers. It isn't hard to get inside his room right after him, and there are no guards who follow. How absurd, you snort, cocking an eyebrow at the boy. Do they truly think Dragonstone is so impenetrable anyone is safe here? Have the assassins go extinct, perhaps? Or do they believe in their dragons that much? Otto has Ser Christon follow Aemond like a loyal dog, and many kingsguards trail Aegon to keep him on a tight leash. Unlike them, Helaena doesn't have a dozen of escort knights, but maids are always with her, and you know how many of them are not what they seem.

How utterly, utterly foolish, you conclude as you unsheathe your dagger, closing the distance between the bastard prince and you. Indeed, Rhaenyra's greatest flaw is her entitlement to everything, including the safety of her kin.

_______

Part V

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild

[lunaroseblake]

Adrenaline - Chapter 8 'Awakening'

Summary: You try to figure out some confusing 'dreams.'

Darkness had surrounded you. You’d thought it would be terrifying, to let go of everything and give in however it was more the opposite and you felt strangely comforted by it, as though it was trying to protect you from going back to the world beyond it. So you let it take over, let it chase away the pain, the worries, it was peaceful. You had no idea how much time passed, you were just quite content at feeling so tranquil before it was all ripped away in an instant.

You weren’t able to open your eyes but you could vaguely hear distant voices surrounding you, people barking orders you thought, though their words were too muffled to understand properly, but the pain, oh god the pain was excruciating to the point where you’d give anything to just let go again, though you weren’t able to, something was stopping you from doing so. You wanted to scream, wanted to shout at whoever was near to make it stop but nothing was obeying you.

A whirring of blades was close by and you felt yourself be lifted, the cold stone of the floor being replaced by something a little more comfortable but still firm. Every little movement was torture but you still couldn’t open your eyes. You were trapped, unable to do anything apart from remain a prisoner in a world of pain. It varied in intensity, coming in waves, like nothing you’d ever felt before, burning, stinging, throbbing. Sounds and voices were everywhere around you, you thought you heard someone shout Zaynes name but everything was merging together to create a deafening cacophony until you felt a sharp cold sting in the top of your hand before everything began to fade once more, letting you drift away back to the peaceful darkness.

It was bright when you woke up, sun rays lighting up your room around you as a soft breeze come in through the open window. Zayne must have opened it you thought as you stretched and felt a familiar presence beside you, the bed dipping slightly under his weight. You turned to face him, letting your eyes wander over his handsome form, the soft warm rays of sunlight lighting up his perfectly chiseled face, highlighting his raven coloured hair as his green eyes darted left to right, quickly reading the page of the book before him. Moving yourself over slightly you snuggled yourself in to his side “I had an awful nightmare” You murmured, pulling the duvet higher up you as Zayne placed a marker in his book before closing it, moving to wrap one of his strong arms around you.

He leant down to kiss the tip of your nose “Nightmares are just an emotional response to things that have happened. Is there something troubling you?” He asked softly, moving his other hand to lightly trail his knuckles across your cheek. You couldn’t help turn your face in to more of his touch as you smiled and shook your head “I’m sure it was nothing, work probably giving me too much stress.” Whatever lingering nightmare you’d been having was slowly fading away to the recesses of your mind. It had all be so clear when you’d woken up but now it was nothing more than a hazy blur of images which were soon forgotten.

You’d stayed like that for a while, curled up against Zayne as he mindlessly played with your hair, talking about everything and nothing before trying to make a plan of what to do that day. You had suggested to stay in bed as in your defence you did still feel weirdly tired even though from judging by the light outside it was late morning, however that had earned you a very light flick to the forehead “You’re tired because you overslept. A refreshing walk along the beach should help you wake up.” You lost track of what he said slightly when he mentioned the beach causing you to absentmindedly bring your hand up to your chest as something tried to crawl its way to the forefront of your mind, a flash of purple hair, something monstrously big and glittering. Just as you tried to focus on what it was your phone began to ring and whatever memory it had been quickly disappeared.

Reluctantly you moved away from Zaynes warmth to roll over on the bed so you could access your phone on the bedside table “It’s Tara” You smiled and slid the answer button up before holding the phone to your ear, watching as Zayne stood and began getting himself ready. It was difficult to concentrate on what Tara was telling you as you bit your lip slightly, your eyes roaming along the sight of Zaynes muscled back when he removed his shirt on the way to the bathroom. He smirked slightly when he turned to close the door and caught you staring at him and you knew he’d taken his shirt off to tease you. You flopped yourself back on to the bed, blushing slightly before registering you were still on a call with Tara “Y/N can you hear me?” Her voice was soft, almost scared sounding making you frown “Tara, is everything alright?” You asked before you heard her chuckle slightly on the other end “I saw your friends before, Rafayel and Xavier? They seem to have formed an unlikely friendship” She paused before continuing in a teasing whisper “You know, if you weren’t dating Zayne then I think they’d both be fighting over who got to date you next” You blushed at that, though frowned when her voice cut off and you glanced to your phone to see the little flashing light of no more battery.

You frowned and sighed, lightly muttering something under your breath about having thought you’d charged your phone as you plugged it back in before deciding that you should also get up. Standing up you immediately regretted it as something didn’t feel right. You felt sick, the room beginning to spin before you, an ache radiating through your chest with alarming intensity and the last thing you recalled was hearing the click of a door and Zayne worryingly calling your name before everything went black.

Again you woke up in your bed, bright warm sun coming in through the window, though Zayne wasn’t next to you this time. How long had you been asleep? You grumbled softly thinking that he must have gone in to work as you curled yourself back up in to the think duvet, tiredness still clinging to your every limb before realising that there were two voices bickering beyond the door “Well when she wakes up from her nap she can decide who to play kitty cards with first” You’d recognise Rafayel voice anywhere. There was an exasperated sigh and you took a guess at who the other voice belonged to, knowing that Xavier would be rolling his eyes “It’s not a nap Rafayel and besides, I’d prefer to play the claw machine, win her all the plushies.” Glancing at all the plushies currently lining your shelves you couldn’t help the small smile when you thought about how determined Xavier got when trying to win you one you hadn’t got already.

“I know that, it just makes me feel better when I think of it that way” You could hear the pout as he spoke making you want to chuckle. “Right Y/N? You’re just having a nap, you’ll wake up soon” You must have been no? As why else would you have been asleep in bed and not being a good host to your guests. Though for the life of you, you couldn’t remember going out with either of them prior to waking up. You didn’t even know what time it was, were you coming down with a cold? That would explain why you’d been so tired all of a sudden.

A familiar ache was beginning to settle itself in your chest again as you slowly sat up intending to go and see the two men, pushing aside the way the room around you wobbled slightly. From beyond the door you heard a slight rustle of plastic before the sound of a box being placed on to a table “I bought your favourite snacks Y/N for when you’re awake. They were the last box and I nearly had to fight Rafayel for them” You heard Xavier say before there was a huff from Rafayel. The thought of your favourite snack had you moving more, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed before bracing yourself for when you stood. The ache was worse now but you were determined to at least make it to the door. The room began to spin again as you moved, wanting to call out to Xavier and Rafayel but something was in your throat stopping you and no matter how much you tried, no sound came out. Darkness was reaching for you again, you fought it off as best you could but the door didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Everything continued to fade until the darkness swallowed you once more.

When you woke this time, you found yourself outside, sitting on a park bench, leaning against that comforting presence you craved when you were alone, his strong frame supporting you whilst you’d been asleep “Zayne?” Your voice was groggy, still heavily filled with sleep. You felt him shift “I’m here” Was all he replied and you felt him squeeze your hand gently. You blinked trying to make sense of your foggy mind, you were having the strangest dreams. Weren’t you just in your apartment with Rafayel and Xavier? If so then why were you now outside? You shook your head slightly thinking you must have just dreamt that after falling asleep against Zayne in the warmth of the afternoon sunlight. You sat in silence for a while as you tried to rationalise your thoughts and dreams, though every time you tried to grasp on to something it faded and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. The park around you was quiet, just you, Zayne and the sound of birds quietly chirping away, though as you listened, a couple of their songs weren’t what you were used to, they sounded like monotonous beeping. You knew of mockingbirds but had never heard one before, it was surreal.

Like usual when you were relaxing with one another Zayne was reading, the quiet flipping of pages drawing your attention to the book he was holding, though none of the words made sense to you, the lettering blurring and forming in to black fuzzy lines. Not liking the unsettling feeling it gave you, you stood, keeping ahold of Zaynes hand and ignoring the way your chest began throbbing “Shall we go for a walk?” You asked even though you still felt tired, you didn’t want to stay there anymore. Zayne gave you a smile, gracefully standing up by your side before beginning to walk with you.

If you ignored the unnerving feeling at no one else being around it was quite nice just the two of you, walking along the tree lined path, sunlight casting dappled shadows through the canopy of green leaves above you. You could see the coastline in the distance, the shimmering waves breaking on the shoreline. You watched the way the light reflected off the surface of the water causing the pain in your chest to increase slightly as something dark red flashed in your mind. You could feel something wet on your fingertips but when you glanced down they were clean and you frowned, something was off.

As you continued walking, things around you began to look the same again, hadn’t you just passed this area? You shook your head, you’d been walking in a straight line hadn’t you? A chill washed over you, that was strange, you knew the sun was still beaming down on you but you could no longer feel warmth from it. Before you could question it further Zayne stopped beside you, his soft green eyes turning to look down at you “Y/N, will you do me a favour?” He asked, making you glance up at him, unable to help smiling in slight amusement, he wasn’t normally one to ask for favours “Of course, anything” You replied, curiosity hinting at your tone. You felt his hand give yours a little squeeze “I need you to wake up” You tilted your head slightly at that, puzzled by his comment as you chuckled slightly “What’re you talking about?” He didn’t answer you, instead he just continued looking at you as though frozen, buts there was something wrong with him, his features were becoming blurry “Zayne? What’s going on?” You were starting to panic slightly, this wasn’t right. You tried to give his hand a squeeze but nothing happened “Please, wake up Y/N” You heard him murmur, though his lips didn’t move.

All around you the leaves on the trees were quickly starting to turn various shades of yellows and oranges before beginning to flutter down to the floor “Zayne I don’t like this, what’s happening?!” He still didn’t move, though his hand still grasped yours. The colours around you were quickly beginning to fade, slipping in to a darkening black. “Zayne!” You tried to shout his name but nothing came out. You watched as he disappeared from your view, darkness enveloping you further until it was all you could see. You felt like you were tumbling, down and down in to the inky void until with a jolt it stopped. Warmth began to seep back in to you, sounds also slowly starting to make their way through as your mind tried to decipher what they were through the thick fog that was coating it. There was a faint rhythmic beeping and voices, you could hear voices.

As well as sounds you were starting to feel things, warmth was radiating in to one of your hands along with a slight pressure, soft fabric surrounded you, keeping any warmth you had from escaping. Trying to focus back on the voices you heard one that was louder than the rest and you realised that someone was talking to you.

The pressure against your hand increased a little before it eased. It felt familiar, hadn’t you just been holding hands with Zayne moments prior? The voice was coming through to you louder now, a deep, gentle sound that brought you comfort. Slowly you were starting to make out the words being spoken. “…-ke up, please wake up soon Y/N.” He sounded so tired and upset, you wanted to do nothing more than to comfort him, to wrap your arms around him and let him know that everything was okay.

It took every ounce of strength you had to slowly begin to open your eyes. The light was blinding, it felt as though you’d been wearing a blindfold for a week. Everything felt heavy, your chest was aching with every slow, shallow breath you were able to take and your mind was so hazy that it took you a second to realise you were looking at a ceiling, though not one you remotely recognised “Z… Zayne?”

[chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter]

Red Snow (KakuIza oneshot)

Wow, I can't believe I finally finished this!

This was actually sitting on my drafts for half a year. The idea came at me when I started wondering what if some characters start to slowly remember other timelines? And bam, KakuIza appeared to me. Tragic as always, but asking with puppy eyes if I could give them happiness (or show it, since technically the canon already did this). I had it all wrote except the last scene because apparently the angst comes easily at me (no surprises here, oops)

But Tenjiku being animated and knowing what we'll see in a few week... Yeah, I needed to end this and fix that mess.

(link to ao3 in case some one preferes to read it there)

Summary: Maybe the snow was the last tribute from heaven to this king who died too young trying to protect his servant. After that day, every time it snows, Kakucho couldn't do anything but look at the snow, the bloody red snow that seemed to be everywhere. Now, the red is gone. Izana is there. The snow makes Kakucho happy again.

Warnings: Manga Spoilers. Angst with happy ending (with a lot of angst before the happiness) and depressed Kakucho (who could blame him?)

Notes: This is canon compilant, from Kakucho's POV (so keep in mind that any opinion on another character is Kakucho's, not mine, I love them all). The italic parts are Kakucho's memories, I hope it makes sense how I organized, since it's not chronologically, it only makes sense emotionally. If saying this makes sense at all.

English is not my first language, so be nice please! :)

Kakucho has been wanting to see that smile for so long that he can't even remember when he started to miss it. Or maybe it's the excruciating pain in his shoulder, which doesn't allow him to remember properly. All that he knows is that suddenly it's here, a real smile on Izana's face, lighting everything up. He can't stop looking, even if some part of his brain detects all the chaos and screams around them, Kakucho only has eyes for him, for his king and this smile that it's making the world shine again for a few seconds.

He thinks his yelling, but he's unable to focus in anything other than Izana bleeding next to him, correcting his servant once more “Our era”. The king keeps talking to Mikey, but Kakucho doesn't know what he's saying anymore, the last words still hitting his brain, his ears, his whole body. “I'm sorry Kakucho, but you're all that I have”.

As Izana's hand begins to get colder his servant is still caught up in those words “All that I have”. So Kakucho close his eyes, more than willing to follow his king one last time. He's not going to left him alone, not now, not ever. The last coherent thoughts that cross his mind is that this is his fault, for wishing too much, wanting too much. He never would have wished to see Izana's real smile again if he had known the price.

He's still able to see the snow before everything goes dark (or feel, he's not sure of his own senses any more). It's ironic,they used to love the snow, now it seems like the universe is mocking on them. Or maybe it's not, maybe the snow is the last tribute from heaven to this king who died too young trying to protect his servant.

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Kakucho wakes up in the hospital. The doctors say that he's going to recover, like that's good news. They are not, not for him. He survived, again. Nothing makes sense, he doesn't feel alive, so... How is it possible? He wants to die, he doesn't understand, his live is meaningless, just a servant. Kakucho hates himself for surviving, he should have died protecting his king, not the other way around.

None of this matters, his feelings are not important, he can't go back to being selfish, getting caught up in his own desires. He knows that he has to keep living, Izana died for him to live. 'Why? Why Izana? Why you never show how important I was to you when we still had time? Why did you leave me? Why am I the only one stuck with our regrets? Why?'

He needs to stop thinking, there is no point in doing so. Izana exchanged his own life for Kakucho's, so he knows he has to keep living. Even tough he is already dead.

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Every time it snows, is the same. It doesn't matter if Izana is already in middle school, as soon as he sees the first flakes he starts running looking for Kakucho, ready to drag him under the snow again. It's a miracle how he's able to contain all this excitement until he finds his friend (his servant) when he's actually jumping trough the corridors.

Of course, Kakucho follows him, pretending to complain about the cold. He doesn't pretend too hard, it's not like he's even trying to hide his smile. Or like the cold matters, when Izana is still taking his hand while they keep running until being outside.

Kakucho didn't care about the snow before, now he loves it. Or maybe he loves how the older boy's face seems to glow when he smiles at it. He knows that Izana isn't exactly the happiest kid around, so he treasures every second when he can have his friend acting like this, without masks or titles between them. Just two friends playing in the snow.

They always play outside for hours, never bothered by the rest of the kids, probably too busy hiding inside the building from the cold. Kakucho thinks they are idiots, they don't know anything. For him, the snow is a reminder of that warm feeling inside him, that thing he felt the first time they played like this. It was almost freezing inside their igloo, but all the ice went away when Izana said those words “Our kingdom”. The younger kid doesn't understand why, he only knows that for a second he felt like the most important person on the entire planet ( besides Izana, of course ), the previous cold forgotten and replaced by warmth within his chest.

Suddenly, a snowball kicks him and he realizes that Izana has already started the fight. He was lost in his own thoughts, so obviously Izana is cheating. Again. He sighs and starts making his own ammunition. 'Some things never change, right?'

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The world lost his color that day. Now everything looks gray, like if someone repainted it with a monochrome palette during the time that Kakucho was in the hospital. The apartment is worse, because he can still see where the colors are supposed to be, like a shadow from the past. He can still see the guitar by the window, where Izana used to play it. The tropical fish, now his only roommate.

It's a really small apartment, the only one that Izana could afford at that time, when he came back to the orphanage just for rescue him ( actually it was more an scape than a rescue, but they didn't care about that ). When his king went to juvie he promised that he wouldn't forget about Kakucho. And he didn't, because Izana never lied to him. 'He just kept too many things inside, but he never lied, how ironic is that?'

He didn't have time to miss the colors, because one day starts snowing. Kakucho was walking towards the convenience store when the first flakes began to fall. Suddenly he can't breathe, he can't move, he can't think. He can't do anything but look at the snow, the bloody red snow that's everywhere. 'Red. That's not supposed to be red. Why is the snow red? Where does all this blood come from? Fuck, fuck, fuck!'

Kakucho doesn't know how he manage to run until he's safely back home, safe from the memories that come true with every flake of snow. From that day on, he avoids going outside in the snow. So he stays in this apartment full of ghosts, the ghosts of colors, forever gone from his world. The ghost of Izana filling every corner, reminding him that he must keep living.

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Apparently Izana made new friends in juvie. He doesn't know how he feels about it, but it's weird trying to imagine Izana making friends. Until his king explains how he made them. 'Oh, that checks.'

“Why are you doing this face? Are you jealous or what?”

Izana says that with a smirk in his face, his obviously teasing him but for some reason the younger boy still feel that something is off.

“Come on servant, don't be such a pain in the ass, I beat them for you, the least you can do is be grateful, don't you think?”

“For me?”

Kakucho doesn't understand what that is supposed to mean.

“Yeah, you're going to lead our army, remember? I wasn't going to let you lead an army of weaklings.”

And with that, he puts a hand on Kakucho's head, ruffling his hair on the process. An obvious sign that the conversation is over and, once again, his servant will follow him with a smile.

When Kakucho finally meets this new friends, he can only think that they're all idiots. Well, except for Mutto, he likes Mutto because he's calm and quiet, he always knows his place or when it's better to shut up. Shion is the complete opposite, he never knows when to shut up or stop moving. To be honest, Kakucho thinks that Shion probably can't do any of that. Mochi is just another idiot, with less energy than Shion, but the same amount of brains. The Haitani brothers are their own category. 'This two aren't just idiots. They are idiots and weirdos.'

Time passed and Kakucho still thinks the Haitanis are weirdos, but he actually likes having them around. They always show up with some expensive and extravagant gift, as if money is nothing to the rulers of Roppongi. Today they bring some delicious cakes, as always they remembered to buy a portion of Kakucho's favorite. He knows Ran is the one who paid attention to these tinny details, he can't help but act like a big brother.

But the cake is not the reason why Kakucho likes them. It's not the only reason, at least. No, Izana is the real reason. Every time the Haitani brothers are there the white haired boy looks happy. Of course, he doesn't show it, so sometimes he seems amused, entertained or even pissed off as if he's about to lose his already little patience. But Kakucho knows him better, he knows that Izana is happier when the weirdos are here. So before he realizes, the four of them are friends. Well, maybe one king and three friends.

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It's being a few months since the Kanto Incident. He doesn't know how many, because time stopped making any kind of sense for Kakucho since his reason to live disappeared. He didn't realize how much time had past until one day when he hears an annoying knock at his door. A really annoying knock that doesn't go away forcing him to open the damn door.

Of course, when he opens the door, the Haitani brothers are there. He should had know, but he really wasn't aware that they were already out.

“Kakuchooooo, I know you missed me, so stop making that grumpy face and be a good host!”

Ran looks exactly the same, still talks like he's teasing at you with every word. After all that time, he still brings cake, Kakucho's favorite.

“Come one, let us in already, I was about to pick the lock.”

Yeah, that's Rindou's way of showing that he was worried. Still the same weirdos. So obviously, he lets them in.

Before he understands what's going on, he's sitting at the table with one brother at each side of him, eating cake and talking nonsense. And he's smiling, even laughing at times with their most absurd anecdotes. The scene is so familiar, so comfortable, it's almost like nothing has changed. 'Almost.'

Kakucho doesn't know what happened, but suddenly finds himself unable to breath. He tries, he really tries, because he doesn't want to break in front of anyone. But they aren't just anyone, they have cake and comfort words “Breathe, it's ok Kakucho, we know” and “We're here now, you are not alone anymore”.

So he breaks, he let himself cry in front of these weirdos that share his pain, his lost. In front of what's left of his family, what's left of all that happiness that he doesn't even remember how it felt. He doesn't realize that all this time he has been gripping his necklace, the one with a hanafuda image that they know all too well. The one that used to be one of Izana's earrings.

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Kakucho would never know how they knew it. The Haitanis always seem to have a sixth sense or something, because they show up unannounced like they always did. The strange thing is that they seem to know that this time Izana is going to welcome them, without beatings or cruel words. They seem to sense that their king is starting to get better and he can't be more thankful, hoping that maybe this is what Izana needs.

He's not wrong, but he's also not right. Izana isn't quiet there most of the time, but at least he eats, talks and even has a smile sometimes. It's not he's real smile, his eyes don't show any emotions, it still looks unhinged. But even if it's a weird smile, he does it more when the brothers are there, so Kakucho thinks that's good. 'He just needs more time, that's all, this has to be a good sign, right? Yep, one day he will really smile again, I'm sure.'

Kakucho definitely likes having the Haitani brothers around. They are more than friends, they are family.

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Kakucho didn't want to follow South, he only have one king and he will never betray him. He ends up in Rokuhara after that monster beats the shit out of him, but that doesn't mean his loyal to that gang. He put his life ( and his heart ) in the hands of another man a long time ago.

It's actually much easier than he expected, being back in this live, the fights, the adrenaline. Maybe that is all he knows how to do or maybe he doesn't even care anymore, but this makes him feel a little bit more alive than spending day after day hiding in his apartment with only ghosts and a fish for company.

It's different with Mikey and so familiar at the same time that he feels on edge. Every time that he's in a Kanto Manji meeting he has to control himself or he would freak out ( unconsciously grasping his necklace trying to calm down ).

Looking at Mikey gets him deja-vu. Really bad deja-vu, if he has to be honest.

The invincible is falling, Kakucho can see him fall into the darkness, exactly as he saw before. That's what scares him most, that he already learned how this ends. But he can't run away ( even if sometimes that's all that he wants ). Kakucho can't run away because he knows, he doesn't know how he knows, but he knows Izana wouldn't want him to leave Mikey. Or maybe he's just projecting, trying to fix the past by fixing the present.

“You can't save him.”

Of course he has been noticing the look in the older Haitani's face, he's obviously worried, but he didn't expect that. He wasn't prepared for that.

“What?”

“You can't save Mikey, not from himself. Stop it, you need to start thinking about what do you want for a while.”

There is more, things that Ran never says, but Kakucho listens anyway. The unspoken words keep floating around them 'You can't save him, the same way that you couldn't save Izana.'

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At the beginning, Kakucho was happy of seeing Izana taking care of himself again. Starting to be open to people, to life, once more.

Now, he's just worried. Really worried. He realized that Izana's only motor is revenge, that he's getting really obsessed with Mikey. Izana is falling into darkness, a little bit more every day. His smiles are not real, his beautiful purple eyes never catch up with them. He looks deranged, completely unhinged every time that he starts talking about his revenge plans.

Kakucho knows that, but he'll follow him anyway. He'll follow Izana because he just wants to see him happy again and if this revenge is what it takes, he'll follow his king. Izana isn't drinking and sleeping all day anymore, so he hopes that maybe, he just needs time for smiling again. A real smile, like before. If Kakucho have to follow him to hell for being able to see this smile once more, he'll do it happily.

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It's even worst the day that Rindou finally snaps, just before the battle with Toman 2nd Generation. They're alone, just trying to keep themselves entertained with some video game, trying very hard ( and failing ) not to think about tomorrow.

“Who do you think will die?”

It's just a whisper, so he wants to ignore it, pretending that he didn't hear it until he turns around and sees Rindou's face.

“No one, this time no one is going to die.”

He doesn't believe it, of course, not after watching how Mikey almost killed Takemichi of all people. But he's trying to comfort the other, and probably himself.

“You don't believe that, don't fuck with me!”

Then he realizes. Rindou fucking Haitani is panicking right now, he's having a panic attack and Kakucho doesn't know what to do. So he just keeps listening, hoping that helps. He's definitely not prepared for the next words.

“I... I've been having nightmares since that day, you know? What if... What if Ran tries to protect me like Izana did with you? What if... This time Ran... Shit, I can't even say it out loud, I'm fucking pathetic! But how am I supposed to keep living if that happen? How you keep living with that?”

Kakucho really, really doesn't want to answer that, but he's never seen the younger Haitani like this before, he knows he deserves an answer. He also knows that the only one he can give is not going to help.

“You don't.”

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Kakucho is dying. He knows he is dying, he knows that Sanzu's katana cut is too deep, that there is no way that he could survive this time. He's okay with the idea of his own death, he always thought that the last two years were a cruel and extra time.

But he can't, he can't die yet. Kakucho needs to stop this damn train, he needs to do it or a lot more people is going to die. Not just people, his friends. Shion, Mochi, Takemichi. Not just people, his family. Ran. Rindou. The last survivors of the broken family they had once. The last two people in this whole planet that still remember Izana with affection. Kakucho can't let this happen, he can't let them die without trying until his last breath.

That's when he sees him. Izana.

Izana is here, Kakucho can feel him, he can feel his warm presence by his side once again. He doesn't even have time to think what's happening, when he listens Izana's voice.

“You're still as reckless as ever. Well, that's what makes you, you.”

Izana smiles and puts his hand in top of Kakucho's own hand. He can feel Izana's strength going through his body.

“I'll help you out, Kakucho.”

Just like that, they are able to stop the train. Together, like they always should be. They did it, they saved their family. And now, Kakucho is finally letting go, allowing himself to die. He's not afraid anymore, he's just happy that he could see Izana one last time. He's dying, but he's dying with a warm smile. Kakucho is finally reunited with the love of his live.

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Kakucho never knew when he started to feel that for Izana. Maybe it was always there, maybe his feelings just changed and grew into something different at the same time that he was growing. But he could pinpoint without any doubt the exact moment when he realized that he was in love with his king.

The day that he saw him “better” again after Shinichiro's death. Izana just cut his hair and wanted to do a big entrance with his new Tenjiku's uniform. He was showing it to Kakucho, his arms opened and allowing him to see the whole view. His earrings dancing with him again every time he moved.

Kakucho knew it. Like and instant revelation, he felt that he just found the missing piece of a puzzle that he didn't even realized he was doing. Kakucho was doomed.

He wanted too much, he couldn't ask that from the older boy, but he still couldn't avoid it. He wouldn't ask, he'll keep following him until the end, just like always. He was sure that be by Izana's side will be enough. At that time, he thought this was the best decision, he still didn't knew that never confessing his feelings to Izana will be his last regret.

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Kakucho opens his eyes, looking around and feeling completely disoriented. He's laying on a king size bed, the other side showing signs that some one was sleeping here too. He touches his chest, not understanding why there isn't a wound there. A scar, at least. But nothing.

Suddenly, he realizes that his necklace is not there. He's about to panic, thinking that he lost Izana's earring forever. Until he hears it, a soft voice calling his name. The sound of footsteps entering the room.

The scarred boy wants to punch himself, because this can't be. But he recognizes this voice, he would recognizes this particular footsteps anywhere.

“Kakucho? Are you awake or are you going to start acting like Ran and sleep forever?”

Izana enters the room, looking even more ethereal than ever. A smug face and playful tone. But he looks... Older. It's subtle, little details than some one who didn't know him as his servant does, wouldn't notice. But Kakucho does it. His king looks exactly like he kept growing up during the last two years.

“I-Izana? Are you real?”

Is just a whisper, he's too afraid that if he talks, he would break this illusion, this dream. But it's more than enough for Izana's face changes into one of worry, quickly sitting on the bed by Kakucho's side, a gentle hand on his forehead.

“Are you okay? You look sick... I can call Manjiro and tell him we can't go to the lunch this week.”

Izana's voice is so soft, his tone of concern so genuine, his warm hand on Kakucho's face so comforting... That he breaks. He starts crying like a little kid, hugging him, clinging onto him like his life depended on it (it does).

“Kakucho? Kakucho, look at me.”

A gentle touch on his chin forces him to look directly into Izana's eyes. An intense gaze staring directly at him, trying to analyze what the hell is happening. The hand moving softly to wipe his tears. But there's something in those violet eyes, something different. Like they had less walls, as if the usual storm that Kakucho always saw on them was calmer.

So, without even thinking about it, Kakucho just says the words. No more regrets.

"I love you, Izana.”

He whispers, before talking again, this time more firmly.

“I love you. So you can't die, because I love you. You have to promise to me that you'll not die."

Izana stares at him, a puzzled look on his face. 'Well, that's not the worst reaction ever, right?'

"I know that, idiot. We've been dating for almost a year now, you don't need to act so fucking intense about it. What the hell is wrong with you today?”

The words sound blunt, but there's so much affection behind them, that Kakucho just melts with it. Specially, when Izana ruffles his hair. A small gesture that says a lot more.

And that's when he finally gets it. This gesture, all the gentle touches, all the non-verbal things that his king is saying... They aren't new. It was always there. This was always Izana's love language. It was always there. But Kakucho never understood until now, because he never thought he deserved this love.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, Izana.”

He answers, a bright smile on his face. Feeling lighter than ever. Of course, the older boy is not buying it, an interrogation look on his eyes. Kakucho just laughs at this, throwing his head like a little kid, unable to content so much happiness. So much life.

Until he looks through the windows and he sees it. It's starting to snow outside.

“It's snowing.”

Izana's whole expression changes with this words. His face lighting up with excitement. A genuine smile on it.

A real smile. One that makes Kakucho notices that this time, he can actually see the snow. The red is gone. Izana is there, holding his hand and smiling at him. Looking ethereal but at the same time, so real. So tangible. So alive.

The red is gone.

Izana is there.

The snow makes Kakucho happy again.

[lilysnzfet]

Snippet from an original m/m fic I'm currently writing

Plot : Hugo & Alexander were childhood best friends. At the end of teenage years their relation was more confused and when Hugo leaves NY to make his studies on the West Coast, they didn't talk/seen to each other in four years. They met again in the French Alps and the feEliNgs & of course sneezing is +++

in short : a sneezy m/m story based on "childhood best friends to ennemies to lovers" 🫣

Hugo snz basically bc of everything, stifling a lot if he can / Alexander have the kink

My characters are 21+. Minors DNI. Reblog on snz fet blogs only please.

Sorry for the mistakes English is not my mothertongue

“I d-uh-uhUUUSH’gnnnnsh’mm !” sneezed surprised Hugo in his sleeve.

“Hmm-when I think of all the times we crossed paths and you literally moved across sidewalks like I was the plague.” Alexander grumbled, unable to believe Hugo's attitude. Was he blaming everything on him ?

“You waited the last moment to show me your feelings towards me. I had to go. You could have done things differently“ Hugo tried to say more calmly, but his voice was shaking because of his need to sneeze.

“You could have done things differently too“ replied Alexander, trying to calming himself too, as he hard troubles to focus driving at this point. Now it wasn’t the time.

“Yes, I knuh…Uh…Hhh-hhh-hhh-hhhHHHK-shiiiiew ! Ugh, s-shit” Hugo mumbled, sniffing softly, as he didn’t succeed in stifling this one properly.

"Ugh...T-there's tissue in the backseat." eventually said Alexander in a tense tone.

“Huh...Huh...Ishhgnnishhhhm’ !” sneezed again Hugo as it was the only answer he could give to this point.

“Ugh” Alexander said half-heartedly, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

Hugo pinched his nose slightly and sneezed one last time, stifling it hard.

“Gnissh-SHUh”

Well, almost succeed stifling it, almost as he had to let go. He shivered slightly and turned to grab the box of tissues. But his nose wasn't done apparently and he sneezed tree times very quickly, covering himself with his hands, dropping the box at his feet in the process.

“Kkkkshhhh’shuh-Issgnsssht-t’Sssshhhuh !”

"S-shut up" said Alexander, fighting a terrible feeling he hadn't felt since a long time.

Hugo bent down to pick up the box of tissues. He took one out and sneezed one last time, a big high pitched and kinda dramatic sneeze into it "IIiii-kssshUH!"

"Ugh, shut up" mocked Alexander in a weird tone, as if he didn't really mean it.

Hugo rolled his eyes. He gently blew his nose and looked out the window. For long minutes there was nothing but silence. And the icy landscape in which the car was sliding. Hugo started to sniffle. It was very discreet yet Alexander couldn't help but hear it. The cold had had an effect on his sensitive nose and Hugo hated the idea of showing that the harsh climate had an effect on him whoever he was. Yet the irrepressible urge to sneeze took precedence over the rest so he sneezed, stifling these three little sneezes you could hear still.

"Huh-gnshhh' ! Hhh-kshxx ! K'ssshuh !"

Alexander didn't say a word, trying to clear the mess of his thoughts. Yet he ran a hand over the buttons near the radio, pressing everywhere. Hugo didn't say anything - the sneezing was embarrassing enough to him but he rather didn't say anything than excusing himself - and he didn't understand what Alexander was doing before seeing him gently slide his fingers over a button. A musty smell and burnt dust could be felt before a slight warmth began to take over the car. Even if Alexander was hitting his nerves, this gesture was attentive and Hugo felt like he had to thank him but the smell of dust tickled his nostrils even more so I pinched his nose very hard. But breathing through his mouth was far from pleasant and as soon as he slightly released his nostrils the urge to sneeze took over.

"Gni-shhhhih ! Kkkksssshuh ! Huh-gnnnxxshhuh !"

Gosh that was hard to do. But at least the tickle seemed to be off for a while now.

“Getting cold huh ?” Alexander asked, half teasing, half concerned.

[twilightdomain]

1 3 4 6 7 8 let's go...... (*´_⊃｀)人(´⊂_｀*)

THANKS FOR WAITING im going to answer some of these out of order since they'll make more sense that way..

1. Does your commander have a unique origin separate from the personal story? YEAS ! wolfgang has nothing to do with early personal story up until vigil missions :-) she is busy already being part of the vigil when all that is happening! they were in ebonhawke on behalf of the divinity's reach ministry when the branded attacked in 13..20? and joined the vigil right after it was formed 🫡 he maintained a good relationship w the other two orders and ended up the obvious choice for commander when the time came .. aha💅

6. What did your commander do with Caladbolg, if anything? // 7. What was their relationship to Trahearne? these are a combo answer for me.. wolfgang was neither especially close with trahearne NOR the one who ended up killing him (because they were busy not succumbing to their wounds after they left mordremoth's mindscape). the honor of both fell to trahearne's junior necromancer chreibhe croile… who was deeply devoted to him in a weird way, and kept the broken remains of caladbolg but never reforged it themself. they held onto it for him. he can have it back once they figure out how to (properly, no cut corners) resurrect him. …. ten yeares latér……………. well 😓

8. Is your commander's relationship to Aurene parental, sibling, or something else? i was really hoping for this one heheh even though i think ive talked about it loosely before… TWO ANSWERS.

in my initial timeline where chreibhe croile is the one to receive the pale tree's vision and therefore becomes the egg's champion, both their and wolfgang's relationships with aurene is…… sucks :'D once trahearne goes missing (and worse and worse from there) chreibhe is in no state to focus on literally anything else. they reluctantly attend to aurene when it's demanded of them but they're completely unable and unwilling to nurture the tenuous bond her egg first made with them. caithe does all the heavy lifting and is the only one to really emotionally bond with aurene. the commander meanwhile is watching this whole time SO envious because please please please she could be doing such a better job -> and then she…. doesn't? hard to say. in the crystal desert the two of them find a way to transfer what little bond there is over to him (yay) but even once he's her champion she's more of a symbol and a tool in wolfgang's eyes. their relationship is completely utilitarian, and aurene only puts up with it because she needs their loyalty in order for the world to trust her. when aurene .. metamorphoses or whatever into an elder dragon, she makes it abundantly clear to wolfgang that they are operating on her terms now. were it not for the laws of this land, she would have slaughtered him etc no more like i'm letting you stay my champion bc it looks better for both of us but know that i can absolutely change my mind about this now. you are my accessory not the other way around

IN THE NICER TIMELINE!!!!! which i started playing around in literally because of this topic, wolfgang is the only one who stays back when the shadow of the dragon attacks, so the tree reluctantly grants him the vision instead and he's bonded to aurene from the start, and follows pretty much like a canon compliant commander. in this version of events she considers herself a MENTOR or perhaps a TUTOR and NOT AT ALL IN ANY WAY A PARENT to aurene… as they hand feed the baby carefully prepared fish filets and buy her something everywhere they go and call the exalted babysitters every two hrs throughout s3 and scream themself hoarse when they regain consciousness alone after Kralkatorrik Blast….. this isnt what parents do (in his experience) this is his JOB. but anyway um the love is there and it changes everything

3. Is there an NPC your commander is closest to? in the second version of events (see above), caithe… they relied on each other a lot taking care of and teaching aurene; i think they get along well when their priorities align, and witnessed some of the best of each other that many others weren't privy to. otherwise, rytlock. i think their weird and off-putting personalities are accidentally well formulated so they can actually kind of chill together.

4. Is there an NPC your commander doesn't care for at all? in my first/less sweeties timeline there's a deep mutual distaste (JEALOUSY) between them and. again caithe…. it's all down to circumstance baby…… hmm everyone else (besides like. the game's big bads..) that i can think of that she actually really dislikes is just another OC, not a canon character. he kind of enjoys or respects a lot of the controversial side characters, or otherwise sort of disdains but doesn't seethe over some of the others. i'll probably remember someone she hates as soon as i close this app

[ahungeringknife]

365: May 25

I don't like that Mithrax is just Ambiguously Old As Shit so in Entropy he's younger. Like born before the Reef War but well after the true Dark Ages of humanity. That still gives him plenty of centuries to Fuck Around and Find Out but it takes him out of the 'old as dirt' category I grow bored of with all our face NPCs in the game. Hence why Viksis looks at him like 'this fucking kid wtf???'

----

Viksis was horrified the first time he met House Light's prime servitor. If you could even call it a Prime. It's metal flesh had been ripped off or never properly put on its body and its eye couldn't focus. Couldn't still. It jittered across the faces of the Eliksni who worked on it. Mechanical minded and doing their best. "Shit," Frytkis muttered next to him at seeing it. Viksis couldn't move. He could hear the low groaning of the servitor and the pained sounds it made. It wasn't... it wasn't alive. A half living thing. A mockery of the Prime Servitor back aboard the Lucent Dawn that effortlessly supplied all the ether for the entire fleet. So much ether they traded it to pirate crews for supplies or scavenge.

He looked up at Misraakskel who was standing next to him. "What is this?" he asked the Kell softly.

"Part of the duties of a sacred splicer are to oversee and maintain the health of the House's servitors. The others aren't ready for something like this," Misraakskel said gravely.

"It's dying," Viksis said.

"No," Misraakskel said firmly.

"You're right, sorry. It's not dying, it wants to be dead," and he looked at the servitor in horror. For a machine worshiper like Viksis this was akin to seeing your god flayed alive and crucified across the sands of Earth's hottest deserts.

Misraakskel looked at him sharply. "No it doesn't. It is living."

"That isn't living, Misraakskel," he said pointing. "It's barely even alive. Do you not hear its moans of pain for death?"

Msiraakskel looked down at Viksis and he could feel the scrutiny. Viksis looked back. "You can understand it?"

"You can't?" Viksis asked right back. "Isn't that was a splicer does? Tend to and understand machines?"

"Among other things," Misraakskel said gravely.

"It's salvageable," Frytkis said next to Viksis. "Any of these people have any actual engineering skills? Or are they all mechanics?" he asked Misraakskel.

"Mechanics," Misraakskel said.

"Ah. They'll kill it on their own then," they folded his lower set of arms. "Watched some mechanics in the outfit almost do that a few times when one of our servitors got sick before an engineer was called." Or Viksis. Frytkis knew well enough not to talk about that.

"Don't be so sure," Misraakskel said.

Frytkis gave Misraakskel the same look he'd give Preksik when the Baron would say something ignorant. Borderline disdain. "I'm older than you. I am sure." Then he looked at Viksis. "What's the call?"

"I can't let it keep 'living' in pain," Viksis said and finally the soft groaning and mechanical noises got to him. He walked away from them up to the suspended servitor. It's eye went to him, jittering and shaking, unable to focus. An Eliksni came over with a rivet gun to do something. "Stop," he put a hand on their arm.

"Huh?" they looked at him in confusion.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Attach some of the outer plating?"

"No. It doesn't need skin when the flesh is so damaged. Put that down."

The Eliksni looked back at Misraakskel and Viksis knew he'd nodded because they left with the power tool. Viksis stepped right up to the servitor so even with its shaking pupil it could see him. "Do you have a name?" he asked it softly.

<<N/a>>

"Are you in pain?"

<<Y>>

"Where is the pain?"

<<Everywhere>>

Viksis raised all his hands to hold the optic of the great servitor, relieving some of the strain the optic had on its body. "Is that better?"

<<Y>>

"One of you," he barked at a mechanic staring wide eyed at him, "Come here and hold the optic."

They skittered over and Viksis had him hold the eye in all hands to relieve pressure on the frame. Viksis hummed softly to himself, finding the same frequency that the servitor resonated in, and put two hands on the metal behind the eye. From his chest little Ivo was humming along with him and he could feel her quiet hum in his chest. The resonance led his hands along the metal seems and through a horribly wired chassis until he found a pain point. It was a wrongly plugged tube. He deftly unscrewed the wing nut on the clamp holding the tube to the input. The tube itself was only about as wide as his finger. Ether immediately began pouring from the tube. The Eliksni around started to panic.

Someone touched him as if to pull him away but when Viksis looked it was only in time to watch Frytkis punch them. "Stand down. He's fixing your fuck up," they snarled at the now frantically nervous mechanics.

He followed the tube to its output deeper into the servitor. He had to hoist himself up and into the would be god. His lower hands shifted Ivo around as he crawled inside and invariably was twisted up inside the servitor. Ivo hummed the resonance the entire time helping him find the pain point and the incorrect output port.

"Frytkis, I need pliers," he called from inside the moaning servitor as gaseous ether was still filling the room.

"What size?" Frytkis asked.

"Halves," which wasn't a size but Frytkis knew immediately. They were handed over. "And a similarly sized ratchet wrench. Hexagonal." That was also handed over, Frytkis nearly half way into the servitor themself.

"How bad is it in here?" Frytkis asked looking around.

"Bad," was all Viksis said using the pliers to turn the wing nut he couldn't reach because his hand was too big. The clamp and tube came free and he handed it to Frytkis. Frytkis took it and vacated the servitor.

Viksis grabbed a piece of metal tubing that went... nowhere (idiots) and used the wrench to loosen it enough to turn the entire piece of tubing. "I need a metal clamping ring, about five radials," he called out. He let Frytkis have a moment to find the part. "Is that better?" he asked the half alive servitor softly.

<<Y>>

"Does it all still hurt?"

<<Y>>

"This will stop some."

<<TY>>

A different Eliksni appeared through the gap and had the metal clamp. He could hear Frytkis taking control of the mechanics and bossing everyone around. Great. He took the metal ring and fit it around the metal pipe before joining the pipe to the outflow. He used the wrench to tighten it. He'd rather weld those pieces together but that was impossible without a micro welder.

Almost as soon as the pipe was connected the entire servitor shifted. Viksis moved as the servitor did, holding Ivo to his chest. The entire thing heaved and then sighed as it moved pieces and parts of itself.

<<Pain//: Reduced>>

"Good," Viksis said and then started crawling out of the servitor.

He stood on the ground but no one noticed him. Frytkis was busy ordering everything into some sort of reasonable work place. Things being properly organized. Mechanics bossed around. Things being put where they needed to go. He looked over feeling Misraakskel looking at him with a slight tilt of his head. He walked over to him.

"You healed the servitor," Misraakskel said.

"No. I allowed it to be in less pain," Viksis said.

"How did you do that?"

Viksis made a confused look. "That is what I'm supposed to do. Did you not hear it?"

Misraakskel looked at Viksis curiously. "Your splicing abilities are different than mine," he said after a moment. "Your old crew say you are a Splicer but you cannot see the weft or warp of reality. And yet you went right into the body of a Prime Servitor and began to heal it in a way I have never seen."

"I can't stand seeing them in pain."

"An admirable trait," Misraakskel agreed.

"So what does this mean for you helping me?"

"Your training with me will continue, yes," Misraakskel nodded. "But I see your abilities lie with the process of our servitors. We will hone your abilities as we repair and prepare our House's Prime Servitor."

"It's not alive, Misraaks," he said.

"But it is not dead," the Kell said back.

Viksis sighed. "Very well. If that is what you think will be best for me learning to use my Splicer abilities." Even if Misraakskel didn't seem to be able to do what he could do.

"I do. And while you learn to use your abilities it will be used to benefit the House. A worthy cause for any member."

Viksis' eyes narrowed. "Just to remind you; I am not House Light," he said quietly. "Once my training is done I will return to my Outfit and family."

"And we will miss your abilities. But it is not of the Light to tether someone where they do not wish to be," Misraakskel said and sometimes Viksis really did wonder if this guy believed his own bullshit. He had to, right? "For now stay here and assist the mechanics in getting our Prime working. When you return to the quarter we will work on the other parts of being a Sacred Splicer."

Viksis nodded slowly. But now he wasn't sure what this kid could show him he didn't already do? Other than adjusting the weave of reality, which Viksis was suspicious of that. Best not to argue about it. He turned and went to go be with Frytkis to organize their mechanics.

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

A Close Call (Obey Me! fic)

summary: Mammon ends up getting rescued by Retha. Which leads to a fluff moment of care.

characters: OC (who is NOT the MC just a 3rd exchange student), Mammon

content: mention of depression, blood, injury, to the rescue

Retha had just walked into the house of Lamentation to fetch Beelzebub his school bag. Since everyone was in class right now and was unable to go and get Beel's bag for him. Thankfully, Retha had been feeling better after catching a cold the previous week. So the dragon hybrid was up and about to head from the Demon Lord's Castle to the House of Lamentation. She figured it would be a simple task to do.

Or it would have been if not for one key issue. Mammon was still in the house. Currently trying to remove the full length mirror from the stairway with lots of cursing and fidgeting. The Avatar of Greed freezing when the front door opened to instinctually drop what he was holding. Which meant the mirror came off the wall and landed on the floor to make a resounding crack. The mirror soon tipping forward and right over Mammon to threaten landing on the demon and shattering all over him. A yelp of panic escaping Mammon as Retha moved on sheer instinct. Those never before used dragon wings snapping open for her to just vault herself up and to Mammon in the blink of an eye. Said wings folding over them both as the mirror finally came crashing down. Glass went everywhere for Retha to jump back a ways and back down to the front entrance so get clear of whatever glass had not instantly dropped out of the mirror frame.

Retha soon knelt down to give a hard huff of air. Those dragon wings staying immobile as she took a knee to shiver from head to toe at the adrenaline rush. While Mammon just shifted his hold on Retha to keep her from face planting to the floor. Specks of blood already all over the stairs and floor from what shards of glass had lodged into Retha's wings. There were even a few lodged in her talon feet to have her growl at the discomfort. Mammon openly livid to have Retha sit down properly as he vented his emotions. "Son of a- Just what were you thinking, you idiot! Do yah have a death wish or something? Why'd you cover me when I could have- Shit! Retha! Stay awake for me!"

Retha gave a groan as her tail flicked back and forth to end up thudding against the front door. Her wings going slack to be dripping with dots of blood in various places as Mammon huffed a hard breath of air. His word flinted as he took one hand up to give Retha's face a tap. "No! Don't pass out! Focus! You got healing magic from being part Angel, right?! So use your awesome Demon, Angel, Vampire, Sorceress mojo and heal yourself! C'mon Retha! Dammit all!"

Mammon then took out the pocketknife his pact human had bought for him to jab his thumb for blood to drip. Soon sticking his thumb right into Retha's mouth and hold her head completely still as she gave a squeak of surprise. Her violet eyes going crimson as Mammon hissed in air. "Ow! Don't bite down on me, dammit!" The effects took quickly as wafts of steam came up from the wounds on Retha's wings for the glass to come free. The cuts on her talon feet also smoking as Mammon kept her in place. A smirk soon on his lips as he boasted a bit. "Right? Feel grateful you get to drink the blood of the Great Mammon. Not every day you get to have such high quality stuff. Think of it... As my apology. Was stupid of me to try and move that mirror. So if you help me fix the mirror with magic... I'll take you with me to that special modeling shoot at the beach this weekend. Deal?"

Mammon removed his hand from Retha's face to look very apologetic. Which had the dragon hybrid pause to really think it over. But soon Mammon had his answer as Retha just outright gut punched him. His air leaving on a whoosh for him to fall back onto the floor and see stars. her words pointed but brimming with loving warmth as she chuckled. "Deal. I'll even skip telling Lucifer you were playing hookie instead of working that part time job. But the next time you cause me this much trouble, I am going to gift wrap you to him with an apple in your mouth and you strung up like a pig."

[local-ground-apple]

Not-Vil's insolent castle | Howl's Moving Castle au!

Vil as Sophie and You as Howl I just want to say "That's my boy" @ Vil

,,There you are, sweetheart !”

Vil heard a soft but firm voice in the crowd. Usually when he was surrounded by people, he was unable to focus on a particular sound or pick out any face.

He would never remember them later.

Carefully prepared expressions and words thankful for the support of his fans were leaving his mouth almost automatically. If someone was a tad bit observant, they would notice sheer distress and slight panic in his eyes, as he didn’t wish to be almost suffocated by the crowd.

,,I was looking everywhere for you !”

Finally. This time, he finally noticed you in the sea of his fans. You wore a crystally white shirt with few buttons unbuttoned, yet Vil focused on your pink-silver jacket that seemed to shimmer slightly in the sunlight.

You were glowing.

A playful, yet quite attractive smile was dancing on your lips and your eyes seemed to sparkle.

Vil blinked and in that moment you merged with the crowd, disappearing from his sight. Before he could turn his head around or hopelessly attempt to escape from the crowd, he felt a cold hand on his shoulder, warm breath slightly tickled his skin and silky hair brushed gently against it.

,,I’m sorry, I’m late”

You muttered slightly, the beautiful smile not leaving your lips. Vil was left quite breathless. No one from his fans dared to even touch him, given his security guards who guarded him diligently. Yet, you slipped past them with ease. He could hear them from afar complaining and rushing to separate you two, yet you were faster. Your firm arms wrapped around Vil’s waist and before he could even scream or complain, you jumped in the air, lifting both of you.

,,You! Put me down immediately!”

Vil yelled at you, as he floated above the confused faces of passer-by and his fans who were shouting in disbelief. You only giggled at his misery, as you began walking in the air with ease. Your hands were gently holding his, making sure he didn’t fall.

,,Now, you can start walking! It’s quite easy and quite effective to escape from your fans”

You responded cheerfully, as you guided him. Vil was quite hesitant to listen to you, yet he soon figured out that there was no way to properly argue with you. You didn’t seem like the type who would listen; besides he didn’t wish to be dropped from this height.

He began slightly walking, taking small and hesitant steps. Yet, seeing your encouraging smile and noticing that fact that he wasn't falling down, he began to feel slightly more at ease. Perhaps, it wasn’t such a bad way to escape the suffocating crowd of his fans and his relentless manager.

,,See? It’s quite enjoyable”

You said cheerfully with a bright smile gracing your lips, as you stepped on the highest point on the cathedral located in the middle of the city. You two continued walking in the air. No one seemed to notice you two, as you made sure you were high enough not to be spotted easily. Soft, morning breeze was gently brushing against Vil’s face, as warm rays of the sun gently caressed his face.

Vil had no idea who you were. A mysterious figure that seemed to lighten up his day by stealing him away from relentless and suffocating fans. Offering him a magical moment in his dull, overworked reality devoured of any colours. Every time he opened his mouth to ask you about your name, no sound could come out of his throat.

Yet, every beautiful moment had to end eventually.

You carefully placed Vil on someone else’s balcony, gently letting go of his hand. His fingertips lingered for a brief moment, almost as if he subconsciously didn’t want to let you leave. You smiled brightly at his confused, yet happy face.

,,Now, you can get away from your fans. I’ll make sure they don’t follow you or anything”

You assured Vil who was, once again, to stunned to speak. He only nodded in response, feeling quite ashamed for appearing so shy in front of you. After all, he was known for his impeccable appearance and dashing personality. Yet, in front of your literally glowing form, he was left speechless, feeling like a grey mouse compared to you.

,,That’s my boy!”

You exclaimed, flashing him one last brief smile, before you jumped of the balcony.

Next day, Vil woke up old.

He wasn’t only feeling old, as if he aged 50 years mentally in the span of one night filled with magical dreams of you. No, he was old.

Vil had troubles getting out of the bed, his muscles felt sore and his joints were cracking slightly whenever he moved a bit. When he glanced at his form, he was stunned. His legs were thinner and the skin wasn’t as supple as it used to be. Frankly, Vil was scared to look at himself in the mirror. His hands trembled, as he had to hobble carefully to it. He furrowed his eyebrows, noticing that he needed to support his weakened body to even take few steps. His back was slightly in pain and he noted that he probably won’t be able to straighten it soon.

Full of apprehension, Vil finally looked at his reflexion, feeling his eyes watering.

Vil was old.

His hair that used to be blond, now was grey adorning his tired visage. His face was dry and covered in wrinkles. His cheeks were now hollow and devoid of any youth. If it wasn’t for his sore throat, Vil was almost sure he would scream in pure despair. He repeatedly closed and opened his glassy eyes and pinched himself multiple times. Perhaps he was delusional, hoping it was just a nightmare and that he would soon wake up from it.

Yet, no matter how viciously he picked his skin, his reflexion covered in wrinkles stared back at him.

Everything crashed.

Every single hope he had for his future; his beautiful dream he had worked so diligently to achieve it was now shattered. It was over for him. With his shortened life-span, Vil was positively sure he was done for. He could achieve nothing and his career was brutally shattered.

Yet, he wasn’t the one to give up. His whole life he was known for his relentless efforts and his persistent attitude. So, he grabbed some stick that he found on his way and he did his best to try to find a cure for his sudden enchantment.

Vil hobbled from one professor to another mage begging for help. He drank various potions, took part in many rituals, tried every possible spell, yet nothing seemed to work. Crowley couldn’t help him. Neither could Crewel or Malleus, despite their earnest efforts. They couldn’t pinpoint the source of this peculiar curse that made Vil so old in the span of one night. Hell, he couldn’t even speak about this potential curse.

So Vil Schoenheit had only one possible solution to his problem.

He could only dwell in despair, slowly coming to terms with his current appearance and shattered career that was so dear to him.

Until, one day Crowley announced that he knew one person that could offer some help.

Despite the doubtful and vicious voice whispering inside him, Vil could feel a wave of hope washing over him.

Vil had to walk, which posed quite a serious problem to his weakened and old body. Every step felt like a challenge and the longer he walked, the more exhausted he felt. Despite a solid, wooden cane Crowley had gifted him before he embarked on this journey, he still struggled and the walk took him longer than he anticipated.

He had heard about Pendragon before.

A mysterious wizard who had a nasty habit of appearing randomly with their unique Moving Castle and then disappearing. A wizard who feasted on poor ladies’ hearts. A wizard who first broke them and then ate them. A heartless mage who had a personal beef with the Witch of the Waste.

Vil scowled at the mere thought of wizard Pendragon. From the various rumours he had heard, Pendragon didn’t seem like a good person who would manage to help him. He was quite sceptical, yet Crowley had assured him multiple times that if someone could do something, it would be that eccentric wizard. He only had to reach his Moving Castle and successfully get inside.

Vil had noticed it from afar. It was a unique construction, one that you couldn’t mistake with any other building. It was moving at moderate speed, so Vil hoped he would be able to swiftly reach it or at least, keep up with its pace.

Oh, how wrong was he.

Vil had an impression that the castle seemed to mock him. Not moving rapidly, yet not slowing down specially for him. He furrowed his eyebrows, scowling in annoyance. He was way too old to be running after this damn building that seemed to be moving on its own free will.

He panted heavily, feeling as if he was close to passing out. His heartbeat was so fast, Vil was afraid his heart would combust. He had troubles catching his erratic breath, as he attempted to chase after the Moving Castle. He supported himself on the cane, gripping it tightly. He was cursing the castle internally, as he hobbled after it.

,,Stop! Just stop! You..You..y’you…Please, I beg you….just…stop”

Few words left his mouth, as he was desperately trying to catch his breath. Vil was shouting in desperation mixed with exhaustion. He pushed himself and his weakened body to try. He had to at least try to reach Pendragon’s residence to plead for his help. He couldn’t give up so easily, yet he wasn’t able to grip the door handle.

,,Just stop you insolent castle! I need help!”

Vil exclaimed in frustration, feeling anger washing over his poor, unfortunate form. Tears welled in his eyes, as he once again stretched his arm to reach out for the handle, forcing his legs to speed up in one last, desperate attempt.

Then, the castle stopped abruptly, almost as if it had heard his desperate pleads and opened its door invitingly.

No one was inside, when Vil walked in anxiously.

The whole room was quite dark, so he wasn’t able to notice any details or concrete furnishing. It’s not like he planned to. His whole body was screaming in agony, his muscles were burning and his joints were cracking. His throat was sore from screaming and Vil had troubles steading his frantic breathing. His heart was still beating quite rapidly.

Vil felt that he could collapse from such draining stunt he had pulled mere seconds ago.

He saw the faint light from the fireplace and a chair standing before it. He didn’t waste any time and hobbled towards it. He sighed with relief, when he sat down, finally taking a rest his legs deserved. He couldn’t quite feel them, yet he dismissed this feeling. He stretched his hands, hoping to warm them up. He furrowed his eyebrows, the flame was barely ignited and it was slowly dying. Vil reached out to add some more pieces of the wood and watched with the delight the flame growing.

Finally, he could rest for a bit.

,,Oh, Mon Dieu!”

An excited voice speaking in some unknown to him language, made Vil open his eyes abruptly. For a brief second, he thought that perhaps the infamous wizard Pendragon had graced him with their presence, yet when he turned around, no one was there.

,,I’m here! Non, not there, here. Oui, just look down!”

The mysterious voice persisted and Vil has never been so confused in his entire lifetime. He looked down as it was requested and he was quite perplexed. He could see tiny hands made out of flames supporting a small yet bizarre form which was resting on the wooden pieces. He blinked few times to make sure whether he was seeing properly.

His eyes didn’t deceive him.

Before Vil stood a bright flame that certainly had bright, sparkling eyes and a mouth that was spilling random French words.

,,The flame is talking. I must take a break, I’m clearly going insane”

Vil muttered quietly, however the talking flame heard him and only chuckled in response.

,,Oh nonsense, my dear! I’m a demon. A demon who was forced to work for this good forsaken wizard”

The flame exclaimed, clearly excited that he finally had a chance to talk to someone else apart from Pendragon. He didn’t mind in the slightest shock written on Vil’s wrinkled face. Perhaps, it was too much for him in the span of one day.

,,I’m Rook! And you…Hmmm, let me think. Something is not right with you, isn’t it?”

 The flame demon was quite perceptive as Vil remarqued. He opened his mouth to share with Rook that he had been probably cursed, yet no sound left his throat. Despite his many attempts, nothing seemed to work. Exasperated, he threw his weakened arms in the air, clearly giving up.

,,Oh, I see. You’ve been cursed”

Vil’s heart seemed to stop for a brief moment, as his form filled with desperate hope. Perhaps it was his chance to get his old appearance back. He nodded.

,,Can you undone it?”

Rook seemed to ponder over Vil’s shy question that was filled with anxiety mixed with excitement.

,,Bien sûr! However, nothing is free in this world…”

Rook’s voice trailed a second, his carbon eyes staring directly at Vil with anticipation and mischief. Vil was suspicious. He hadn’t met many demons in his entire life, so he wasn’t sure how to talk to one. All he knew was the fact that they weren’t the most trustworthy creatures. One should be extremely careful while making a deal with a demon.

Vil wasn’t sure. He was aware what Rook was implying, yet he was hesitant. It wouldn’t be wise to strike a deal with a creature that could possibly betray you. However, from the rumors he had heard, he doubted that wizard Pendragon would be a better or safer option.

Perhaps, he could let them both try to find a remedy for this peculiar curse.

,,You want to make a deal with me, huh?”

,,You’re quite bright! I like you”

The demon responded, clearly happy with Vil accepting his implicit proposition.

,,I can turn you back to normal once I’m free. In order to liberate me from this misery, you’ll have to find the item Pendragon gave me when we first made a deal”

Vil raised one of his eyebrows questioningly. He was confused with the terms he had agreed to. Which item? It all sounded quite mysterious and more complicated than he had previously anticipated.

,,Which item?”

,,Malheureusement, I can’t really tell you that. The contract bounds me”

Rook explained, sighing heavily and Vil could only roll his eyes in annoyance. Great, so it was way harder after all. However, it wasn’t as if he had many options available to change his fate. Vil decided that he would think about it tomorrow. He had only heard Rook ranting about Pendragon’s vanity before he dozed off.

Vil was awakened by a scream.

Not a pleasant morning alarm.

,,YOU! How did you even get in here, old man?!”

The voice sounded extremely anxious, yet Vil could sense that it belonged to a young person who tried really hard to appear tough. If he wasn’t sleepy and still tired from the uncomfortable chair, he would probably scold this young man for calling him an old man. Even though, he was one.

Vil turned around and he saw a rather short guy who looked quite cute despite a scowl adorning his soft features. He had violent hair that contrasted with his pale skin and bright eyes. He was wearing his casual clothes and he appeared quite surprised and perplexed at the sight of Vil.

Quick, he had to quickly come up with a valid reason to stay here for a while.

Vil looked down at Rook who only shrugged his shoulders, clearly showing him that it was his problem to resolve. Looking around, he noted that Pendragon’s castle was in horrendous state. Never-ending piles of clothes were scattered all over the room; he could see dirty dishes that desperately needed to be washed. The whole ceiling was covered in spider webs and dust. Vil furrowed his eyebrows.

Wizard Pendragon truly was vile.

,,I’m wizard Pendragon’s new housekeeper”

Vil responded casually and confidently. He was manifesting that the guy standing before him buys his lie. Young man seemed to be engrossed in his thoughts for a brief moment, after hearing his declaration. He was muttering something quite quietly.

,,A housekeeper? I don’t think Y/n mentioned hiring someone…”

Violent-haired man eyed Vil suspiciously, before he shrugged his arms in defeat. Whatever. Y/n Pendragon was quite eccentric, so he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised if you ended up hiring someone to take care of this cluttered castle that desperately needed cleaning. Finally.

,,By the way, I’m Epel. I’m Y/n’s apprentice”

He introduced himself, so Vil quickly returned the gesture. Epel didn’t seem to mind him at all, quickly looking for some ingredients for breakfast. He supposed that since Rook let Vil inside, he couldn’t pose any real threat to him, so he could as well make a breakfast for them.

,,Where is Y/n?”

,,Oh, who knows that? Maybe they will return for breakfast…Or not, I’m not sure”

Epel responded, waving his hand dismissively. Great, Vil had no idea how long he would have to wait for you here. Epel found some bread in the drawer and began pouring himself and Vil some cold water.

,,Why won’t you eat some scrambled eggs with bacon?”

Vil suggested, his gaze fixated on deliciously looking bacon and eggs laying in the basket situated on a pile of books. Epel only laughed in response, before he glared at Rook who conveniently avoided his gaze.

,,Because, Rook here won’t let me! Only Y/n can cook on him”

We will see.

Vil reached a conclusion that he had suffered enough yesterday, chasing after that insolent castle and he deserved some fulfilling and delicious breakfast. He grabbed a frying pan and approached Rook menacingly. Epel only shook his head with pity, sure that certain fire demon would refuse.

,,Now, you insolent potato, you’re going to cook some eggs”

Vil’s firm and strict voice send a chill down Epel’s spine who was sure he was some old man who was quite chill. Rook shook his flame head, refusing to cooperate. A dreadful smile crept on Vil’s wrinkled lips that spelled a threat. He leaned down, whispering softly, making sure Epel didn’t hear their exchange.

,,Now, if you don’t cooperate, I will tell Y/n about our little deal and we will see what they do with this information”

Epel had never seen Rook complying so fast. He adjusted his flames in order to let Vil put his frying pan over his head. He could hear crystally clear Rook complaining about the situation, calling him an “old bully” and threatening to burn his breakfast, yet Vil paid him no attention. With a delighted smile on his face, he broke the shell of the egg.

Suddenly he felt a warm breath on his neck and silky strands of hair gently tickling his cheeks. A cold hand brushed against his, before it carefully snatched a frying pan from him. Vil could feel a presence behind him, so he turned on his heel only to face you.

Vil couldn’t utter a mere word, as his eyes widen.

It was you, standing dangerously close to him, offering him the same playful smile. Vil was sure he could recognize your jacket from miles.

,,My, my! Rook, you’re so obedient! Who would have thought?”

Your cheerful voice broke the silence between you two, as you began making the breakfast. You briefly glanced at Vil who was praying you wouldn’t recognize him, yet you made no remark before you turned your attention to flame demon.

,,I will prepare the breakfast, as I always do. Can you pass me the rest of the eggs?”

You asked Vil, not bothering to spare him another glance, as he only nodded in response fulfilling your command. While you seemed to bicker with Rook who was calling old man various remarks, he seemed to ponder over you.

Then, Vil connected the dots.

You being here could mean only one thing.

You were the wizard Pendragon who was the owner of Moving Castle and local tax evasion enjoyer who ate woman’s hearts. A chill went through Vil’s body who felt sick thinking about those rumors. It also meant that you were the person who saved him from the crowd of his fans and walked in the air with him.

,,Soooo, old boy, who are you exactly?”

[aitseleci]

deceived pt. 2

details: angst, albedo x gn!reader | cw: death / injuries / blood 

word count: 1840 | part one !

note: do i like this? idk mixed feelings tbh  — didn’t bother to add a picture for this one. but like here is part 2 as many requested 

It’s been months since the day Albedo broke up with you. A relationship that Albedo didn’t cherish, as he states. As time continues to pass, your heart aches as you recall those joyful moments with each other. Your affectionate feelings still lingered on edge; holding closely to the past. The nostalgia had you at ease in times of distress. You’d still loved him. No words can express your desire to stop loving him. But what else can be done? You were nothing but a victim to his research. He used you and admitted it, after all. 

Melancholy thoughts seem to be on your mind lately. You wonder how Albedo was doing, how he’s been, what he’d accomplished. You’d still cared, in fact getting over him wasn’t a no brainer. Everywhere you looked reminded you of him. His own essence loiter among commodities. The residents of Mondstadt and Dragonspine didn’t assist in your healing; the reminisce of the things you two did together: exploring, sketching, finding materials, indulging the savory dish of Sunshine Sprat. He taught you how to recreate this dish, lecturing you how to properly cook the salmon. 

“You make sure that the salmon becomes a dark orange and stiff,” the blonde whispers as he observes you flipping the meat over the stove. You nodded, eyeing the salmon carefully, letting out giggles in response. 

“I can’t believe we’re so focused on salmon ‘Bedo.” 

“Hm, you think so?” he answers in an amused tone. 

Whenever he shows you his special dish Woodland Dream, the prince himself had a smiled painted in his eyes. Indeed proud of himself with his culinary masterpiece. He describes the dish to be sweet and tender  — a blooming flower with each bite. You can still remember the tangy flavor that danced on your tongue. Despite this savory dish, this prince seemly has a sweet tooth. To him, he finds the sugar rush that washes throughout his body quite pleasant. A childish nature that you didn’t expect yourself.  

“You find it pleasant... a sugar rush?”

He was hesitant averting his eyes from your stare, “Well the ‘hyperactivity’ feeling, gives me a boost in energy... It's refreshing.”

“Hm, okay..” you smiled. How cute. 

Those wistful moments will remain to be daydreams of your little mind. It was a facetious act he pulled to test you. With the little hope you were attached to, you hope maybe Albedo didn’t mean what he said. At least a little. 

You didn’t bother going to Sucrose or Timaeus for your answer to your questions. Your relationship wasn’t public and doubted anyone would understand. Moving on shouldn’t be onerous, it’s not compared to your daily tasks. Ugh, you sighed in frustration. 

You were exploring the land of Dragonspine, wondering to find new discoveries. Despite Albedo’s influence to pique your curiosity of Dragonspine, your shrewdness needed to go beyond your understanding. It’s been a while since you stepped foot in the land of snow. Not after how much of his essence remained for your little heart. 

You trudge up along the path of Dragonspine, slowly recalling the time you had with Albedo. The crunching of the white snow underneath your feet, digging deep in the ground. The noises you can hear over the screeching winds. A path of fresh footprints laid behind you, displaying where you came from — not where you’re heading. In honesty, you don't know where you’re heading. All that was known was that you are going somewhere. Discover something. Get your mind off of him. 

The Adventurers’ Guild was still trying to post expeditions and catch the eyes of others. Though many adventurers have turned down these pleas. The cold condition was much too dangerous for them to handle, proper preparation was needed but expensive. Dragonspine was menacing for their safety and that was understood among the citizens. 

You briskly rubbed your hands for warmth. The icy winds swirled and sighed around you, sweeping against your skin. Sending chills throughout your body, the fabric of your clothing keeps you warm. Warm enough to make you at ease with the temperature, but not your cold thoughts of gloominess. 

“[y/n], you need my coat? It’s quite cold today, I wouldn’t want you to freeze,” Albedo sighs with the hinges of concern, already starting to slip off his coat.

“Huh, you sure, what about you?” 

A slight curve plastered on his face. An expression you don’t usually see besides his familiar blank expression. “Yes, I don’t exactly get cold and of course I insist.” 

He placed his coat on top of your shoulder, instantly feeling the warmth. The soft fabric rubbing against your cold skin. Your nose was occupied with his scent, filling you with wonder and interest. At times, his scent would be simple than complex. That day it was simple, calming and reassuring you with solace. 

You looked up to the sky, it was filled with ominous mackerel clouds. The dark sky was kissed by the high mountains and bare trees. The sudden wintry breeze whooshed passed you, overwhelming your body. You were missing the sunlight spilling its rays among the land of Mondstadt. How much time has passed? Who knew you would be homesick after wandering in the land of Dragonspine. And Albedo’s company, you couldn’t grasp the fact that he’s no longer in your life. The warmth and bliss of both the recollection of fond memories. Face lit up, feeling your own embarrassment in your cheeks. 

It’s been months, why can’t you get over him? 

“Ya!” the strange noise alerting you. You looked frantically trying to find the source of those gurgling sounds. It was deserted, the possibility of small rodents roaming around the area is surely high  — no wait; trying to think rationally. Then finally you see a monster camp right in front of you. 

You were ready to whip out elemental reactions and attack — oh no. Your vision illuminated its bright color. Still, nothing was released and hilichurl fighters were running at you. No way you were going to stand with this commotion, resorting to run for your life. As you huffed and puffed, accelerating your speed. The cold oxygen filling up your lungs, fingers were numb. Vision started to get foggy, decreasing your pace. You gaze down to notice red blood drizzled on the white blankets of snow. 

Blood? 

You felt the arrows that shot your head and leg. It must have been the hilichurl shooters. There were gashes on the back of your head and leg that began to rip you with pain. You touched the back of your head and felt the wet blood. With the energy in your had left, you continued — you looked back to see blurs of mitachurls with huge axes. Axes that can slice you in half. Your head and thoughts were swirling, unable to focus. Numbness seeped through your legs — stability was lacking. You were trembling, feeling your own body was out of your control. The snowy scenery swayed underneath you as your vision bathed in black spots. You collapsed in the snow, unable to pick yourself up. Legs and head were throbbing with agony and anguish. Pain that you never thought could exist, groaning in pain. The urge to scream came to you but no noise came out of your tired lips. You pushed yourself to crawl, eyeing a tree. Glancing back to see the monsters were leaving you alone. In the vast distances, struggling to hang on to dear life. Faint soft footsteps were heard, the soft slushing of the snow. Must have been an echo or from your imagination. Left alone suffering in the sub zero condition. Your mind was so foggy, eyes half-lit before seeing a glimpse of a familiar figure along the path. It was a blur of colors, you squinted in attempts for a clearer image. Just before you could make out what or who it was, darkness swallowed you whole; lying face down. 

“[y/n]!” 

You blacked out, unconscious in the cold. 

Albedo came running towards you, surely was shocked to see your body stiffly laying there. But noticing your wounds and the wet blood on your clothes — he had to take action. Still seeing that your vision was glowing, he didn’t worry as he checked your pulse. You were bleeding profusely, as Albedo swiftly wrapped you up with cloth he had on him. No words can explain how Albedo felt, as he threw your arms on his shoulders and back. Lifting your body up and holding on to your thighs; securing you. 

Albedo felt your pulse, beating with each running step. His pace started getting quicker, the desire to keep you alive. Not sure what to think of it besides the want to face you. His thought process was incoherent and he wanted it to be resolved.  

Little time. 

After sending you off, Albedo handed back to his camp, straight back to work. Focusing was an issue though. He had mixed feelings of frustration, unsure what these feelings could mean? He hoped you would be alright, but again, why would he care? Ever since the end of your relationship, Albedo noticed that he’s more sensitive than usual. Reactions seemingly to be more livid, stronger. New unfamiliar emotions that he can’t wrap his head around. This all left him at a dead end. 

He felt himself drowning in his own unwanted guilt. The princely blank face wasn’t there, instead contrasting it was the void of such strong rage. Teeth clenched, eyebrows arched. Face painted with pain and remorse. The look on your pale unconscious face... What was the source? His body heats up from this confusion, slamming his gloved hands on his desk. Palms sweating, soaking the leather, as he tossed them off. Papers and documents were flying everywhere, his arms swinging with tension. 

Is this what you're doing? It must be. 

Maybe as a vision bearer, you found a way to manipulate others. Nonetheless, Albedo needed answers. But with your crucial state, are you going to be alright? 

Albedo never felt this rage towards anyone: his master, Alice, Klee, Sucrose, Timaeus, The Knights of Favonius...

If only times were different. 

Weeks, months had passed, you were pronounced dead from your fatal wounds. On your deathbed, the glow of your vision had dimmed to a gray color. You were truly gone. Word got out and Albedo couldn’t pull himself together. Your death has left a void in many lives and memories. 

If only he cared. 

The blonde was choking with despair, gasping for a change... hope. As he flipped through the sketches of you, he stared blankly at your face. The little details that made you, you. He repeatedly muttered incoherent words: If only, if only.

There it was a sketch of you and your smile, if only he could see it one last time. He sighed, letting his head drop. His blonde hair was unkempt as he exhaled heavily. 

Once that first tear fell on the paper, more followed. 

If only he loved you. 

© aitseleci 2021 ✰ do not modify or repost

[songmingisthighs]

[12.43] mafia!seonghwa × reader

⇀ convinced his partner is trying to steal him away from you, you tried conveying your feelings to him. But he didn't believe you, he thought you're just simply jealous.

⇁ tw : mafia life, jealousy, angst, death

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author’s imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

Clad in his couture suit, Seonghwa walked into the party venue with you in his arms. You were wearing a beautiful, glimmering Indigo dress that accentuates your curves, earrings that provide shine to your face, and heels that seem to heighten your class.

Despite all that, you had a forced smile on your face as you just had an argument with Seonghwa in his car merely minutes prior.

He is well aware of your apprehension towards his current partner in crime, a female that done the title of a seductress in the organization both for her role and her daily behaviour. You can't even lie and say that she looks like an inside-out, bloated cow because she's beyond perfect. To make things worse, you heard that the reason why she was partnered with Seonghwa was that she and he look good together.

At first, it was harmless observation over the two, wanting to see their chemistry and whether or not what people said was true. But when you see that even outside of their mission she'd flirt and cling onto him, you feel threatened. Naturally, you told Seonghwa about this but he only brushed your feelings off, convincing himself and you that it's merely childish jealousy.

The issue was never addressed and it accumulates to the point that it became the bane of most of your arguments. So he decided to just avoid talking about anything that relates to his partner in any way.

This is why when he accidentally let it slip that she'd be at the party back in the car, you were slightly furious at him for not giving you a heads up.

So here you are, standing by the champagne tower as Seonghwa made his rounds alone only to be joined by his 'partner' when he talked to their ally.

Your hand was clenching the flute so hard, it was threatening to break any second.

"Whoah, never seen you so tense," a voice called out, breaking your focus of glaring at Seonghwa and her. You look towards the source of the voice only to be greeted with Wooyoung's teasing smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him but smiled at his teasing jab, "hi Woo," you greeted, letting him pull you into a deep hug that lasted a while.

"Givenchy," he stated after taking a whiff at your neck, "man has taste," he pulled away to properly take your attire in, going as far as twirling you playfully which made you giggle. The people around looked at you two with a smile, probably thinking about how cute you two looked together. Which didn't go unnoticed by Seonghwa who is now zeroing his vision in on you and Wooyoung as the girl next to him clung on his arm tightly, seemingly pretending like they're together.

"Where's Seonghwa hyung?" Wooyoung asked after he stopped twirling you, grabbing a flute of champagne instead. You rolled your eyes at the reminder and simply nod your head towards where Seonghwa and his partner stood before sipping the champagne.

Wooyoung cringed at the sight of the girl throwing herself onto a taken man but what bothered him was the fact that Seonghwa seemed to not be affected by it.

"How stupid is your boyfriend to still insist that your intuition is nothing more than jealousy? I mean seriously! She's embarrassing herself!" he groaned, knowing full well what's going on between you and Seonghwa.

You were glad that you're not the only one who realized, despite the person who shared your sentiment is not your boyfriend.

But before you can answer, loud gunshots shocked everyone and suddenly chaos broke.

Wooyoung immediately pushed you behind him as he produces a gun from inside his suit. He turned to you briefly to hurry you out, "go out now, run and don't look back, take the stairs by the balcony and get out of here as quickly as you can and do not try to hide," he said before rushing towards the sound of the gunshot before you could say anything else.

People were pushing you left and right, trying to escape the hall and so were you. But you can't find it in yourself to run just yet, you look around the crowd of people, trying to find Seonghwa.

Soon enough, your eyes met his.

"Seonghwa!" you called out, pushing your way to get to him as he was trying to get to you. But then another voice calling his name broke his attention away from you.

Seonghwa looked towards the source of the voice only to find his partner by the tables, her dress stuck between two tables and for some reason she didn't seem to be able to pull herself out.

If you weren't in such a panicked state, you'd roll your eyes and call her out on her bullshit.

Your eyes flit between her and Seonghwa as Seonghwa's flit between you and her. You were hoping that he'd ignore her and run to you instead so you both could go to safety.

But your heart broke when he shot you an apologetic look, mouthing out 'sorry' before running to help his partner.

You can actually feel your heart shatter seeing that in a dire situation, he had chosen the girl that you had explicitly told him you don't trust, that you think she has it in her to steal him away from you. But he didn't seem to care.

Slowly, your feet began moving on their own. You couldn't even register where your feet are dragging you to. But as you reach the door towards the balcony, you look back to the sight of Seonghwa holding his partner closely before going where the other members of his organization are going.

And that was the last time you had seen each other for the night.

The shoot out went for quite a while. Apparently, a rival organization caught wind of the party and decided to use this opportunity to infiltrate the mansion to steal something. Their plans were foiled and that's when all hell broke loose.

When Seonghwa and the others managed to kill and capture their rivals, things began to finally wind down. Most people had already fled the scene, being part of the criminal world surely gave them the knowledge of what to do when a shoot out happens.

There were some guests left, those who hid behind tables or were unable to escape due to fear, and sadly, those who were caught in the crosshairs.

Seonghwa sighed at the sight in front of him, bodies lying on the ground, some belonging to their rival, some were members of his organization, and some were the unfortunate guests.

He looked around to see the lower-ranking workers carrying bodies on a stretcher with a white cloth covering everything. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight, no matter how long he's been involved in the mafia life, he couldn't seem to shake his sadness away when seeing innocent victims.

As he looked around, he saw Wooyoung walking back to the hall where the party was held merely an hour ago. "Wooyoung!" Seonghwa called, running towards the guy to catch up to him. Wooyoung stopped in his tracks and looked back, waiting for Seonghwa, "Hey, what's up?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Have you seen (Y/N)? The last time I saw her was when I went to help my partner a-" "you helped your partner instead of making sure (Y/N) was okay?" Wooyoung cut him off, an incredulous look on his face. Seonghwa was caught off-guard at the tone his friend used at him, "yeah? She was stuck and needed my help, I couldn't just-" "she's a member of a fucking mafia, she kills people for a living and on a daily basis, you really think she couldn't have gotten herself unstuck?" Wooyoung scoffed.

Seonghwa only stared at Wooyoung with a confused expression, not knowing how to answer him nor how to defend his choice in the predicament after Wooyoung explained the situation his way.

Rolling his eyes, Wooyoung nodded towards the door by the table that once had the champagne tower, "Last time I saw her, I told her to run and get the hell out of here," he said simply. Seonghwa muttered a small 'thanks' to him and was about to run to look for you when Wooyoung put a hand on his shoulder, "Just so you know, what you did will change things forever between you two, you got a heck load of making up to do," he said simply before continuing his previous path.

He realized that Wooyoung was right. So he immediately set off to find you, wherever you are.

His instinct told him that you're still around, considering his car is still in the parking lot and that you hadn't known anyone else in the party, he deducted that it wouldn't be possible for you to have gone back.

Even so, you were nowhere to be found. He tried looking everywhere inside the mansion and outside in the garden, but there were no signs of you, not even when he asked the other guests and members of the organization that were still around.

He stepped out to the grand front entrance and look around but only seeing people carrying the bodies of the deceased. He was starting to get worried.

"Seonghwa!" a feminine voice called.

He snaps his head, hoping to see you, but only to be greeted by the sight of his partner jogging towards him. For the first time ever, he rolled his eyes at her and went back to trying to locate you.

She, on the other hand, didn't seem to get the hint as she suddenly hugged one of his arms, "Hey, I was looking everywhere for you, I was worried," she said, pouting at him.

Seonghwa tried to pry his arm off of hers, but she held tight. Wooyoung was right, she's beyond capable of getting herself unstuck, so why did he went to help her instead of you?

"I don't have time for this, I'm looking for my girlfriend," he said gruffly, still trying to push her off as his eyes trail on the people around.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure she's perfectly fine somewhere, maybe even with Wooyoung," she said ignorantly.

At the insinuation that you'd be with Wooyoung, Seonghwa snap his head towards her and was about to say something when suddenly the sight of your dress caught his eyes.

He'd recognize the sparkly indigo dress that he had personally picked for you from miles away. For a second, he forgot about his partner and was about to run towards you.

But his steps halted at the scene in front of him.

Seonghwa hadn't processed that the piece of your dress that he saw was from underneath a cloth that covered your whole body that's rested on a stretcher.

He could feel his heart stopped, his head spinning, and his breath hitching. He was trying to convince himself that you're okay, that you're simply unconscious and is resting, waiting to be taken to the hospital to be treated.

When he realized that a couple of workers were about to carry you away, he sprinted and yelled for them to stop.

As soon as he arrived by your side, his trembling hands held on the piece of dress that peeked out. Again, he tried convincing himself that everything's okay, that maybe this is not you. Slowly, he pulled the cloth back a little to expose your hand. The ring that he had bought you to commemorate your 2nd anniversary brought dread to him for the first time ever. He used to love seeing it on your finger, showing people that you're taken, but not this time.

Bracing himself, he pulled the rest of the cloth off of you. "Oh no," he choked out and finally broke down when he saw your pale, lifeless face. The same face that greeted him every morning and accompanied him every night, the same face that would scrunch up whilst cleaning his wound when he came back home from a mission. The same face that dropped in disappointment when he decided to go after the other girl in her last moments.

He can't believe your last memory of him was him turning his back on you, his last conversation with you was when he called your feelings childish and uncalled for, that the last time he held your beating heart was when he pushed you away so he could talk to people he didn't even care for.

All he could do now is held onto you as he cried, hand going over the wound that ultimately ended your life. Several bullet holes littered your body, but he seems to be focused on the one that's directly on your heart. He thought about how much pain your heart must've born, how much the pain he inflicted on you must've hurt much more than the bullet that struck through. He thought about how he should've gone to you to ensure your safety.

Seonghwa, the usually reserved and collected man, didn't even care about the attention he drew. People around were looking at him with much pity, those who knew him wanted to comfort him but didn't know how to, even Wooyoung can't help but shed his pettiness over his older friend when seeing him wailing over his loss.

But Seonghwa didn't care.

How could he?

When the only important person in his life was ripped away from him before he could make amends.

Without thinking twice, he stood up and carried you off the stretcher. The workers that were supposed to take care of the deceased stood silent and unsure, yet they didn't stop Seonghwa even when he began to carry you towards his car.

"Don't worry, I'm taking you home so you can rest," he said with tears still streaming down his face. He looked down at your face, he could fool himself and say that you're only sleeping, that tomorrow things will be better. Yeah, for now, he can do that.

Once he put you on the front seat securely and went over to the driver's seat, he leaned down and press a kiss to your forehead lovingly, "I'm never gonna leave you anymore," he said before turning the car engine on and drove off.

[its-me-im-coraline]

Amalfi Nights // Victoria De Angelis

words // 2766, SHOCK!

warnings // smut, pretty vanilla, softdom!vic, servicetop!vic, praise, kind of fluffy smut

pairing // Victoria De Angelis x F!Reader author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. as far as i gathered the request was about female reader so i did that, i can def change it to gn pronouns but unfortunately don't know how exactly i can make detailed smut entirely gn so i am sorry for that. anyways, i hope you enjoyed it, my smut skills feel rusty but it was nice writing some smut again

request // yes, here

summary // Reader and Victoria are for vacantion in Amalfi. After a candle-lit dinner at the restaurant, after a long day of swimming and sumbathing, Victoria just wants to show you her love.

(i forgot i changed the setting)

It was not unusual for the bassist to overwork herself. Sometimes she did not even realise what she was doing, she just worked mechanically writing, playing… She would ignore everyone and everything that was not her job, as if in some kind of tance that only allowed her to focus on one and only one thing.

The one that was truly affected by that - other than her of course - was her wonderful lover. Y/N had the patience of a saint, in the words of Damiano, being the only one truly able to deal with Victoria’s stubbornness. Some would call it patience, others call it tolerance, others name it thriftiness, Y/N simply calls it love. There was a lot of love targeted at the blonde woman, a love that made her lover unable to just let her push herself to the limit, no matter what she did.

As the ‘thrifty’ characterization indicates, Y/N almost always -with the exception of very few occasions when Victoria had some pretty compelling arguments- found a way to pull her out of that. Usually it was the plain promise of cuddles and kisses, maybe even sex would lure her out of her tiring working cycle, but this time nothing seemed to work. Y/N had to be really inventive this time and luckily it was something possible.

The plan went as such: a vacation at Amalfi, just for a weekend. You just put Victoria in the car and go. Nothing can go wrong. It seemed like a fool-proof plan, and truly it was. It happened to be fairly easy to convince Vic to get in the car. “Just get in or I’ll spend the weekend in Amalfi alone, no phone calls, no pictures. Nothing.” As always, compelling.

It seemed to be the girl’s weakness; Y/N. By the simple threat of not seeing her lover for a weekend, not getting any of the beautiful photos she was sure there would be, Victoria was ready to even teleport to the coast if possible.

Trouble started one Victoria sat herself in that car. From the first moment, when she opened the door, her insatiability was clear. “How long does it take to get there?” “Are we there yet?” “How much longer until we are there?” “When will we stop?” “Let me drive.” “I don’t even need the break.” This is how the entire three and a half hour trip went, with Victoria whining, complaining and asking to drive. It was worse than having a five year old but Y/N would never have it any other way.

Arriving there was a breath of fresh air. The blonde finally stopped asking questions and talking and her partner got the chance to enjoy some peace. It was truly beautiful. The sea, the mountains, the houses and even the hidden buildings, it seemed like out of a fairy tale, Y/N wasting no time expressing that thought. Victoria, being a few meters away, basking in the scenery, responded swiftly by walking back to her lover, leaving kisses up her face. “It’s only so beautiful because I have you here.”

Oh that sweet talk of hers, enough to make anyone melt, melt to their knees and beg for her love. Y/N felt helpless around her girlfriend, not in a bad way, although it could certainly be dangerous, but in a way of… being drunk, drunk in love, drunk by her beauty, by her personality. It was never about her looks and always about how Victoria could always lift the girl off her feet with only her words. She’d feel like she’s floating every time they are together, floating in the most beautiful dream.

The day passed by smoothly, the pair spending it under the sun and into the sea, they only stopped when the sun seemed to be setting. She might have not known how to show it exactly but Victoria was extremely thankful for the partner she had, knowing the lengths the other woman would go for her. She thought of the best way to show her just that, maybe with some dinner, the atmosphere was utterly romantic; the Amalfi coast, sunset hour was nearing, she had her lover right there, and all the means to show her how she felt. So she moved on with the plan.

After arriving in the hotel, Vic rushed to get herself ready first, hoarding the bathroom, winning herself enough time to set up the dinner.

“I’ll be showering now,” called Y/N, “might take a while, I think I burned my shoulders a bit…”

“Don’t forget to get ready while you’re there. We need to be ready the soonest possible if we want to explore!”

Her girlfriend hummed in response, Victoria having an inner dance party -and feeling bad for it- before going down the lobby to arrange everything with the hotel. From Y/N’s favorite food, to her favorite wine and even favourite flowers, everything was set to perfection. It was done surprisingly fast, the blonde woman taking an active role in it, realising how last minute it was. By the time Y/N was showered, dressed and ‘fancied up’ her girlfriend had everything but the food set. But it was not of the utmost importance, knowing that they could wait for it a bit.

“Hey, babe, I’m dr- essed… What did you do?” She smiled, mesmerized by the view in front of her. The balcony of their hotel room was set like a dream. Flowers on the table, two glasses for wine and said wine next to the table. She wasn’t sure how to react to such action.

“I only wanted to thank you, amore. You do so much for me, caring for me, baring my stubbornness. For fuck’s sake you brought me here cause I’m over worked,” she breathed out the last few words, unable to speak properly before moving to her girlfriend to kiss her.

“I simply love you,” Victoria whispered against Y/N’s lips, moving her to her chair before occupying her own.

The whole dinner revolved around the two just exchanging glances and flirty words. “You're hot, delicious, you look scrumptious,” one of them would say, a hungry look on her face, the other blushing, almost jumping from her chair. It was torture to just sit so close yet so far away from each other.

“Just move closer to me, dolcessa,” breathed out Victoria, signaling for the other girl to move her chair closer. Y/N did not hesitate to obey her girlfriend’s suggestion, quickly shuffling herself next to Victoria.

“Bravo ragazza. You obey very well, amore.” If it had been possible for Y/N to keep any sinful thoughts at bay before everything went out the window immediately as the blonde opened her mouth. “It will be extremely useful after dinner is over. Mhm,” she paused, leaving kisses on her girlfriend’s neck, “I am thinking, second course?”

Everything after that moment was a blur. The pair did not even get the chance to finish their dinner before Victoria had dragged her lover inside the room and pinned her right next to the window. Her kisses were hot and sloppy but Y/N would be lying if she said she’s complaining. If anything this moment is all she’s been waiting for today. The blonde never stopped her ‘attack’, moving closer and closer to Y/N’s sweet spot, assaulting the spot with the lips, her teeth and her tongue, taking special care of it.

Her trail only lowered as she kept on kissing and leaving marks all over, hands on her partner’s waist, lips on the swell of her chest. “You know this shirt drives me crazy, dolcezza! Of course you do. That’s why you wore it, huh?” Y/N couldn’t speak, all ability to form words and sounds was taken away by her lover. “Speak to me amore, this isn’t the time to be naughty.”

“That’s why I wore it,” responded the helpless girl, slowly being undressed by her lover.

“Well, it’s a shame it’s going away, no?” And with that the shirt was removed entirely, leaving Y/N’s chest almost fully exposed to Victoria, her action did not waver, though. She kept her direction to the girl’s bottoms, kissing above the top of her pants before throwing a questioning look up. Y/N only nodded eagerly, giving Victoria the permission she needed to presume her actions, removing the pants without much thought or effort.

“It is not fair, Vic,” whined Y/N, eyes semi closed with the pleasure the other girl’s feathery touch around her body provided, “you are overdressed.”

“You’re right, puppy,” she responded, swiftly getting up, dropping a kiss and seductively moving towards the bed. “Why don’t you come and return the favor? I got so tired undressing you, now you’ll have to it for me,” she taunted, smirking evidently as she held her self up by her arms, legs semi open on the bed, eyes eye-fucking her lover already.

A little bit of encouragement was all Y/N to get a little confidence and take the lead a bit. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” she whispered in Victoria's ear and started copying her girlfriend’s previous actions.

Her hands were going everywhere, unsure of where to stay or whether they should stay still. Eventually they moved under her shirt, massaging her chest there, emitting a series of moans to leave Victoria’s mouth. “Too much fabric,” she mumbled on Vic’s skin, opting to remove said fabric, making all access so much easier and revealing the beautiful lingerie underneath.

“So pretty you are Victoria. What a beauty. I got lucky, now, didn’t I?” The focus shifted on the woman’s chest. Her nipples were poking through the bra, doing very little to cover anything, but the goal was never to hide.

“Work on my boobs, baby, go on,” encouraged Victoria after noticing Y/N’s hyperfixation on said body parts. “I know you love it.”

No thought occurred before the last girl did as told. Lips left kisses and marks all over Victoria’s chest, paying special attention to the line above her bra. Her hands moved swiftly behind Vic’s back, unclasping her bra, removing it and moving to attack her nipples. They were perky due to the breeze entering the room through the open balcony door but also from the arousal. Y/N loved to love them, always one of her favorite things to do in bed. She loved to suck on them, to kiss them, even lick around them or pop her in and out her mouth like cherries.

Y/N was not the only one to enjoy the attention she gave them. Victoria would be lying if she said she did not get wetter and wetter whenever her partner gave her nipples so much love. It was possibly the hottest view, to look at her from above, gazes aligned, such delicious noises released by both lovers; wet sounds and moans. The whole scene was beautifully pornographic, straight out of a movie, so theatrical but genuinely felt.

The lower girl decided on the next move without a warning, slowly moving her hand to move under Vic’s fancy shorts. The discovery there made her insane, and only then did she really get sure that her girlfriend had planned for this to happen. The lingerie set seemed complete, not that it mattered that much anymore, the panties got most likely slightly ruined by just how wet Victoria was. No prep was needed, not much effort at all, she was entirely ready for anything, a fact that made Y/N feel proud of her work so far. Without a word, one of her fingers started pumping in and out of the blonde. Such a wonderful scene, the delicious movements of them both, the divine moans the blonde let out… It was a plain dream that neither of them wanted to get out of. Everything just felt perfect, like an all time high, and maybe it was just that, a high, one that both found themselves in quite often.

“This,” began Victoria, struggling to speak between her moans and thrusts on Y/N’s fingers, “was supposed to be a thank you from me to you, cucciola. Agh,” she struggled again, the pleasure just being too much, fingers deep inside her with constant friction on her clit.

“Stop, oh my, stop, amore. I want your mouth,” she all but screamed, rushing to unbutton and remove her shorts, all but ripping her panties off. Y/N simply shuffled to her knees in front of the bed, settling between Vic’s open legs and diving right in.

Not taking almost any time to breathe in between, just kissing her clit and ramming her fingers in and out of Victoria as her hands rested on her lover’s head, pushing her closer every time a wave of pleasure took over her. Her tongue was everywhere, the one moment lapping over Vic’s clit and the next one assisting her fingers inside the blonde. The whole ordeal had her pulsing and shaking underneath Y/N resulting in her cumming all over the girl's face with no warning.

“That was so hot,” giggled Y/N, getting up to leave kisses all over Vic’s face, absolutely adoring the whole fucked out expression she held. “I want to do it again,” she continued, just like a kid in a candy store, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“No, no, puppy! You were so good to me, but now it’s your time. You deserve to be loved.” It was all mumbled, but her tone was always authoritative.

“Just move to the bed, love.” With that Y/N did as told, moving onto the bed and spreading her legs, just like Victoria liked. Her back was on the headboard, leaning there to be more comfortable, hands already touching her own chest in anticipation.

“Keep the bra, cucciola, but I think the panties need to go… Mhm, not that I don’t like them, but they get in the way. Can you remove them for me?” It was not really a question but her lover still gave a small yes as a response. “I feel like you deserve a very good reward, puppy, don’t you agree?”

Y/N was sitting there in awe and staring at her partner, maybe a little worried by the toy or maybe just excited for the up and coming event. Giving pleasure to Victoria had only made her more hot and bothered, unable to wait for the said blonde to act.

And she acted, swiftly removing the black lace panties her enamoured bottom was wearing after she left kisses all around the line of them. It’s that moment she saw the effect she gained over the girl for the night; her panties were absolutely soaked, in a lot of spots not being able to distinguish skin from the fabric of the undergarment, making her salivate at the sight, opting to kiss her wet pussy over and over, stimulating her before working her magic.

Victoria started off slow, a very rhythmic tempo but tortuous at the same time. She went from one finger to two and three and then added her mouth into the mix, hiding herself between her favorite girl’s thighs, getting lost in the taste and the noise.

“You are doing so good, my love, taking my fingers so well, mhm, such a good girl.” The praise never stopped, only encouraging more and more sinful noises to leave Y/N’s lips, the same ones that were parted the whole time, swollen and begging to be kissed. Victoria did not hesitate to do exactly that, allowing Y/N to taste her juices, the kiss doing little to conceal the confirmation of pleasure.

As Vic’s pace quickened, Y/N was struggling to keep it together, falling apart in the blonde’s hands, cummiing with a loud moan and a series of curses as she was left there, in bliss; in afterglow. “Be a doll and drink this, precious,” whispered Victoria, giving some water to the girl, before following her own advice and doing the same. After, she moved to the hotel room bathroom, quickly finding a small towel to wet with warm water and clean both of them up.

By the time she walked back in the bedroom Y/N was practically asleep on the bed, sprawled out, just as she was left, as soft breaths left her. Victoria smiled at herself, proceeding with cleaning her girlfriend up before leaving a kiss on her forehead and getting in the bed, following suit and falling asleep.

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