#i made myself blush writing and editing this do not perceive me

[roguelioness]

pas de trois

Fandom: FFXIV Pairing: Aymeric de Borel/Alyzen Kaide/Estinien Varlineau Rating: E Words: 6931

(Read on ao3)

The water is hot, near-scalding, but Alyzen prefers it that way. It forms a steam shield against the blizzard outside currently ravaging Ishgard, and fogs up the windows that would inform her how brutal the snowfall it. Which suits her just fine - she wants no reminder of the journey she is to set off on.

She’d been annoyed that Count Edmont had planned a soiree on the eve of her departure. She hates socializing even at the best of times, even less so when there are missions to be undertaken. All she wanted was a quiet evening spent soaking in a bathtub, and that had almost been denied her – until Aymeric stepped in and offered the use of his manor.

A foolish move, to be sure. Though she might be the Warrior of Light, though she might be a ward of one of Ishgard's great houses, she is still an outsider, and the local populace would not take too kindly to the fact that she was spending the night at the house of one of Ishgard's most powerful (and sought-after) men.

"There is naught to fear," Aymeric had soothed with a smile, "I will be meeting with Estinien, and will spend the night with him. None shall know you occupy the mansion. Your privacy shall be guaranteed, I assure you."

A chance to be alone? Fully alone, in a place that wasn’t in the middle of some wilds, with amenities that offered a chance to unwind? Well, how could she turn down that offer? And so she's stretched out in a marble tub, soaking in water that will never turn cold – Garlond's new engineering marvel of course – the scent of incense and sandalwood heavy in the air.

Her eyes slide shut, and with a soft, luxurious sigh she slips deeper into the water, letting herself relax, pushing all the memories of the past into the background.

A quiet, quiet creak has her tensing.

Someone is in the room with her. She can sense their presence, that awareness prickling at the nape of her neck. The alarm that should follow is absent; considering none save one knows of her being here, it can only mean… "I take it your meeting was cut short, lord commander?" she teases.

"We came to an agreement sooner than I expected," is his casual, noncommittal response. The smirk threaded through the syllables has her alert.

"We?" she questions, turning at last towards the room's new occupants. Or intruder, as it were, for standing next to Aymeric is Estinien, his steel blue eyes glinting so sharp even in the muted light of the room. Both men are dressed casually, in soft breeches and loose-fitting shirts, their hair the kind of flat and mussed that comes from wearing a hat. They make a striking contrast standing next to each other - though both are tall and muscular, Estinien is lithe and wiry while Aymeric is broad-shouldered and sturdy. They’re both handsome men in their own right, and the sight of them together, like this, so comfortable and relaxed, short-circuits her brain for a few seconds.

Estinien’s mouth lifts up into a smirking half-smile. 

Her gaze narrows. "What is the meaning of this?" she asks, harsh and blunt, sinking below the level of the foam that covers the water's surface. Estinien's expression, though she cannot decipher it entirely, is unnerving, and ignites a lick of flame in her belly – though she'll never admit to it.

"I believe we have some negotiating to do."

"This hardly feels like the time or place for such a thing."

Aymeric’s voice is perfectly even, as though he’s commenting on the weather. "Not so for the proposal I have in mind."

She presses her lips together tight, teeth gritted together as she tries to avoid looking at Estinien. What could he possibly mean? "And what proposal would that be?"

The grin on Aymeric’s face makes her quirk her brow, so wide and satisfied it is. She’s seen his cat sport a similar expression  at mealtimes. His gaze is darker; there’s a glint of something baser, untamed, lurking in those cerulean depths. "You want to fuck Estinien."

The coarse word, spilled so casually from a man who is otherwise so elegantly eloquent, has her starting, the lick of heat stoking to a full flame. Then the rest of his statement catches up to her and her jaw drops. "I beg your pardon?" she stutters.

Aymeric moves towards her - prowls, really, his stride measured and slow, as though trying to keep from spooking her – and drops to his haunches by the side of the tub. Resting his elbows on the edge, he once again smiles at her, so calm and assured it has her stilling. "You do not have to hide from me," he murmurs. "How you look upon him has not escaped my notice.”

“I don’t know what you mean–”

“The signs are easy to miss, were I not actively searching for them. The stiffness of your spine, the way you clasp your hands behind your back. The flush on the tips of your ears–”

"That's– he frustrates me!” she sputters. “He's an annoying little shit sometimes–"

"Come now, that is not entirely true, is it?" Aymeric reaches out to wind a stray lock of deep copper hair around his finger, gives it a gently chastising tug. Lowering his voice, he adds, "Would it make you feel better if I told you he feels the same way?"

"What?" It slips out soft and strangled. Her face, already flushed from the heat, turns scarlet. 

“Estinien would like to bed you.” Again, it’s such a casual remark she gapes at him.

Finding her tongue, she scowls, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Am I to believe he so readily confided such a thing to you?”

“Believe what you’d like,” Estinien drawls, resting one shoulder against the doorway. His silver hair is illuminated by the lights in the bedroom and forms a kind of feathery halo – ironic, since he’s certainly no saint. 

“This is ridiculous,” her face feels like it could burst into flame at any second, “you can’t just waltz in here and– and– say something like that!”

“Why not?” Aymeric glides his fingers through her hair, gently untangling any knot he encounters. Aly’s keenly, intensely aware of the fact that he’s just inches away from her, and very clothed in contrast to her nude self. She’s not self-conscious by any means – a life on the road means that anyone she travels with gets the occasional eyeful – but it’s never bothered her as much as it does this moment.

With these two.

“What am I supposed to do with that information?” she gripes, though it doesn’t have as much heat as it could. 

“Ah, I’m glad you asked.” Aymeric leans in, presses his lips – chapped and cold from the wind outside – to her forehead. “Would you like to?” The emphasis on you is clear.

She’s not usually so slow, but this is– new and unexpected territory and she’s very, very apprehensive. “Would I like to what?”

“Fuck him.” Again, that small smile, that knowing look.

This must be some kind of trick. They’re clearly pulling a prank on her. “Aymeric. Be serious.”

“This is no jest, Alyzen.” When her eyes flick over to Estinien, he nods once, sharp and sure, his face carefully devoid of all expression – save his gaze, which is like that of a winter wolf in front of fresh meat.

Throat dry, mouth as arid as the Sagoili desert, she licks her lips, attempting to piece together a coherent thought. “Let me get this straight. Estinien wants to take me to bed, and he told you as much, and you’re asking me if I want to?” She shakes her head. “Why would you– is this some twisted Ishgardian way of ending–” she trails off, a deep furrow between her brows. What exactly is there between her and Aymeric? Neither of them have defined the boundaries of their relationship. “If you would rather not… not continue our tryst,” she says stiffly, hating him just a little for making her use the word tryst, as though she were a cheap and tawdry thing.  Her heart is a rapid hammer against her ribs as she continues, “then all you have to do is say so. You do not have to– to make a mockery of me, my lord.”

Aymeric makes a soft, distressed sound, his face clearly displaying his dismay. “No, no, you misunderstand me,” he begins, but is cut off by Estinien.

“What he means to say,” the dragoon unfolds himself and stalks to her side, crossing his arms and staring down at her. Even though she’s fairly well-concealed by the bubbles, she still feels vulnerable and too-exposed, and her fingers curl into her palms in the water. “Is that we would both be fucking you.” Alyzen chokes, coughing as she tries to steady her breathing once more. Estinien smirks, one brow arching into a pretty point. “Only if you’re amenable to it, of course.”

She glances from his face to Aymeric’s, waiting to see if they have anything more to add. Surely at any moment now, one of them will laugh, and declare it to be a fine joke. When the minutes tick by silently, their expressions unchanging, only then does she realize that they’re serious.

“I–” she sighs and sits up straighter. The slope of her breasts breaches the water’s surface. There’s a measure of satisfaction in the way Estinien’s gaze drops to them for a split second before returning to hers. She can’t deny she’s had indecent thoughts about Estinien, has wondered how it would feel to have him touch her. How it would feel to touch him. She’s seen the way he’s looked at her, out of the corner of his eyes, how it pulled something molten into the pit of her stomach. She should refuse – she should send them away, should be indignant that they came to her with such a proposal, but instead… “How would this even work?” she asks, internally groaning at the look of utter smugness on the dragoon’s face.

He was going to be insufferable.

“What are your concerns?” Aymeric’s hands, with those long, elegant fingers, rest on the rim of the bath. Alyzen finds herself distracted, remembering the way the calluses rasp pleasantly against her skin. He clears his throat, drawing her focus back to his face, and to his credit he doesn’t tease her for her wandering attention. 

“I–” she throws her head back and groans. “Twelve take you, Aymeric. This is most certainly not the place to have this kind of discussion. How am I meant to think when I’m naked and the two of you are not?” It’s said with the intention to shock and startle, to maybe bring them to their senses – herself included, because Nymeia help her, she’s actually considering this, which means there must be something wrong with her.

It doesn’t work as expected.

“That can be remedied easily enough,” Estinien smirks. His hands move to the edge of his tunic and in a smooth, fluid motion, he pulls it off, revealing an expanse of planes and angles and muscles that she desperately wants to map with hands and mouth. Aly lets out a startled yelp and turns away sharply, straight into Aymeric’s amused face.

“‘Tis too late to play the shy maiden,” Estinien drawls from behind here. “There’s naught here you have not seen before.”

“I beg your pardon?” she whirls towards him, outraged enough to forget her compromised circumstances. “What in the fucking void do you mean by that?”

“Only that you’ve surely seen a man in the nude. Or have you not been keeping the Lord Commander company?”

Furious, she makes to stand up, but Aymeric’s hand on her shoulder keeps her in place. “Fuck off,” she snarls, but before she can curse him out some more, he quirks a brow. “I believe that was the purpose of this discussion,” he smirks.

“Estinien.” Aymeric interjects, clearly exasperated. “Would it overtax you to be more diplomatic? As I recall, you did not hesitate overmuch when I spoke to you of this proposal.”

Baffled and as irritated as a clam loaded with grains of sand, Alyzen clears her throat, chooses her words with the utmost of care. “For all this… talking, neither of you have attempted to explain the intricacies of such an arrangement.” She glances from one man to the other, wishing she could read their minds. “I do not want any misunderstanding, nor would I want jealousy to get in the way of old friendships and working relationships.”

“Your forthrightness is most appreciated,” Aymeric says, a touch of praise in the way he speaks. 

She rolls her eyes. “The sooner we finish this discussion, the sooner I can get back to what I was doing.”

Aymeric smiles and brushes his lips across her temple. “Estinien and I are indeed old friends,” he says. “We do not begrudge whatever happiness the other might find; it would mean all the more if we were to share in each other’s joy.”

“You understand what you’re asking,” she says carefully. “We set out to travel soon. I’ll be away from you for days, weeks even, while he will be there–”

“And I trust the both of you to keep the other safe. Should you find pleasure in the cold nights, I will be glad of it.”

She stares at him, taking the measure of his response, trying to find the smallest ilm of hesitation. She finds none. He returns her searching gaze patiently, his expression open, the hand on her shoulder steady and sure. “You really do mean that,” she murmurs.

His palm moves to cradle her jaw. “I would not be dishonest, not with you.”

Catching her lip between her teeth, finding herself oddly shaky, Alyzen turns to Estinien. Bare-chested, with his arms crossed, his posture is guarded, and it makes her tense. “If I desired to spend my nights with Aymeric alone, would you be amenable?”

“Aye,” he nods.

“What of–” she hesitates. “Are the two of you truly comfortable with this?” She hates that she sounds nervous and uncertain, like an sheltered young maiden, but she must know. Most of her relationships – if they could even be called that – have been fleeting, a quick match struck at midnight, gone with a bare breath. This – whatever this is – is not love (not yet, her mind whispers) – but neither is it merely a kind of itch to be scratched. And while this proposal intrigues her – she’d like to know where it leads – she values their friendship and would rather not risk losing it.

Aymeric senses her struggle - she sees it in the tenderness on his face. “Were either of us discomfited by even the smallest degree we would not be here, I assure you.”

Nodding, she turns to Estinien, startled to see something fond and gentle on his features. “Aye,” he rumbles. “He speaks true.”

She huffs. “And if I had been offended by your suggestion?”

“We would have apologized with utmost sincerity,  spoken no more on the matter. and made no allusion to it.” Aymeric’s eyes twinkle with mischief, pulling a short sigh of laughter from her. “However, I confess I had every confidence you would be amenable, or I would not have made the suggestion in the first place.”

“Presumptuous,” she swats his chest. 

“But not incorrect,” he gives her chin a playful tweak.

Alyzen sighs. “What now?”

“Considering we are all in accordance, I see no reason to move forward with this arrangement,” Aymeric brushes his lips against her temple, smiling against her skin at her sigh.

“Hold a moment,” Estinien’s gravel tones are deeper than normal. “I have a concern I wish to have addressed.”

Alyzen tilts her head, waiting for him to continue.

Estinien’s eyes are warm with something she cannot unravel. “Can we agree that there shall be none but us involved in this arrangement?”

“Yes, of course,” Aymeric’s reply is surprised, as though he had not thought it needed to be stated.

“Well, yes, I would hope so,” she arches a brow. 

“Good,” the dragoon declares, then takes the two steps required to close the distance between them, drops to his haunches by the bathtub, and curls a hand around the nape of her neck.

Aly’s skin breaks out in gooseflesh.

Estinien leans in close to her, closer, so close their lips are but a hair’s breadth apart – but he doesn’t kiss her. His breath, warm and wine-scented, washes over her face, his fingers twitching against her skin. He waits, patient, his eyes sharp and focused. She’s pinned by the force of it, her breath caught in her throat, unable to look anywhere else, even as Aymeric presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

“Eager, aren’t we?” what was meant to be mocking comes out as a low, soft exhale.

His reply is a rumble in the space between them. “Would you rather I leave?”

She responds by closing the gap and pressing her lips to his.

Half a heartbeat of hesitation before Estinien plunders.

His kiss is greedy and rough, indelicate but in a way she likes, his teeth gently rasping against the delicate flesh of her mouth. Behind her, she can feel Aymeric shift, his hand moving from her hair down the side of her neck, his fingertips skimming over her collarbones, lowering beneath the water’s surface to seek out her breasts – and when his thumb grazes over her nipple she gasps into Estinien’s mouth.

Aymeric laughs softly, amusement curled in the sound, and repeats the action over and over. Aly blindly reaches out, grasping Estinien's shoulder with one hand, her other moving to cover Aymeric's as he strokes her breasts. She moans, pulling away from the heated greed of the dragoon's mouth, her head tipping back to explode the column of her neck.

Estinien wastes no time in taking advantage of this new expanse of flesh, pressing his mouth to the thin skin that covers her pulse, setting his teeth and sucking a bruise into her flesh that she will struggle to cover come the morn.  Aymeric’s hand slides lower, to her sternum, fingers lightly brushing over the smooth, raised chainlink scar there, down to her belly button, and even lower, till he’s at the cusp of her mound, before retracing his steps back to her chest. 

They’ve barely begun to touch her and already she feels like she’s wound up too-tight in her skin.

“I think she’s been in that bath long enough,” Estinien grumbles. “What say you, lord commander?”

Aymeric takes her mouth for a slower kiss; the taste of him beneath the spiced wine he’d been drinking heats her blood to magma. When he moves away, she follows with a soft sound of protest, and he gives in and kisses her again, making her feel like an expensive indulgence, something to be savored. She shifts, squirms, and when she starts to rise from the water Aymeric leans away, looking very satisfied with himself. “I believe you’re right, Estinien. Why don’t we help her out?”

No sooner than he says the words than Estinien slides his arm around her chest and under her knees and hauls her up with an ease that shouldn’t surprise her but does. Aly’s not a small woman by any means - an adventurer’s life means her muscles are dense from combat, but Estinien makes her feel petite, almost fragile. 

The cold air of the room swats at her, causing her to break out in gooseflesh. Thin, gossamer threads of fine white mist rise in in delicate trails from her skin. She shivers, and so does Estinien, his gaze drawn to the droplets of water dotting her body, lent a deep golden hue from the hearth’s flame. He leans in and touches his tongue to her collarbone, licking a stripe up the curve of it, nipping the place where it meets her throat.

“Estinien,” she grumbles even as she trembles from that caress, “I’m cold.”

“Forgive me,” he drawls. Striding rapidly to the bed in the adjacent room, she’s unprepared for how abruptly he dumps her onto the mattress; she gasps indignantly, moving to sit up on her knees. “You voidbitten ass, what was that for?”

“You said you were cold - surely you must be dry now.” The smirk at the corner of his lips is far too endearing for her to stay mad at him. Beside him, Aymeric sighs, tossing a large towel onto the nearby chair. “Could you not have waited a moment longer?”

“For someone who proposed this, Aymeric, I’m surprised you’re not more impatient.” Estinien might be talking to the lord commander, but his attention is on her, and Aly can’t help tucking her lip between her teeth as he starts to undo the ties to his breeches. When he catches her looking, however, he hesitates, fingers stilling on the waistband.

She doesn’t want that. She wants the assured, certain Estinien, the dragoon with the sharp tongue; she wants him to want her, and to know that he wants her - this reticence of his puts her on edge. Aly leans up, one hand on his shoulder, and moves to kiss him - but stops short of his mouth, acutely aware that Aymeric is right there. 

Suddenly, Estinien’s hesitation doesn’t feel so strange.

“Kiss him, cherie,” Aymeric orders, his voice husky.

She does. Slow and languid, she kisses him delicately, relishing the groaned whine he spills into her. Her hands move to his breeches, and she finishes undoing the ties but stops there - it’s his decision to pull them down, to let them pool around his feet, to step out of them and onto the bed.

Alyzen breaks away from his lips and turns to look at Aymeric, keenly aware that Estinien is settled next to her, that his broad fingers are splayed against her sternum, that his silver hair falls over her shoulder. “Meric,” she says softly, calling to him, calling for him; his face lights up in a fond smile, his cobalt eyes aphotic and coveting. He undresses quickly, precisely, placing each article of clothing across the armrest of the couch to keep it from wrinkling, before joining them on the bed, the mattress sinking further to accommodate him. Cradling her jaw between his hands, he takes her mouth, his nails lightly digging into her scalp as he sinks his fingers into her hair.

She trembles, and Estinien laughs, a dark, greedy sound, before he starts to feather kisses down the column of her neck, skimming his lips over her tattooed shoulder. She lets them move her to their liking, till she’s trapped between them. They work in tandem, a strange kind of coordination to how they caress her; Estinien’s welcome roughness has her arching into Aymeric, and his meticulous touches have her melting into the dragoon. The two extremes send her head spinning, render her skin sensitive, every nerve alert and receptive. Heat builds up in her flesh, a familiar ache between her legs, and she can tell from every uncontrolled rock of her hips that they’re as affected as she is.

Aymeric sucks at the swell of her breast, dragging his teeth along the curve of it before taking her peaked nipple into the warmth of his mouth and Aly hisses, attempting to arch into him but his arm around her torso keeps her in place. She squirms between them, desperate to be touched, desperate for a release from the tension wound up in her belly. Estinien chuckles, low and sly, one hand pinching her chin and holding her gaze to his as the other strokes along the inside of her thigh, soft, teasing brushes of skin against skin, getting closer - but never quite touching - that place where she burns with a wet heat. “Eager, aren’t we?” he echoes her taunt from earlier, but his voice is gravelled with lust and the sound of it makes her moan. “How should we begin, then?” His attention flicks to Aymeric. “Do we take turns?” he asks, before dropping his eyes back to her flushed, sweat-beaded skin, lips curling into a devilish smirk. “Or do you want your pleasure first?” He punctuates the offer with a slow glide of his fingers up her folds, offering her the most feather-like, unsatisfying strokes against her clit.

Aly pants into the air, desperately attempting to shift her hips to seek out more of his touch, but once again she’s thwarted by Aymeric’s hold on her. “Please,” it bursts out of her – she’s not sure what she’s asking for, but she wants – she needs – more.

Estinien’s smile grows wider, near-vulpine. “You beg so prettily,” he praises in a low, elated croon, reinforced by Aymeric’s lips pressed up against her temple. He coaxes her knees  further apart, stroking her thighs, scraping his nails along her thighs and the back of her knees to pull a whine out of her before dipping his fingers into her folds. Aly jerks at the sudden stimulation, a deep moan pushed into the crook of Aymeric’s neck as Estinien eased his fingers into her.

“Fuck,” he groans at the feel of her, both awed and amazed.

“Please,” Alyzen begs again unashamedly, rolling her hips, trying to get him to move, to give her the friction she needs.

Estinien presses deeper, curling his fingers, and she cries out, loud and wanton. Aymeric’s hand trails along her side, his knuckles brushing the sensitive undersides of her breasts, before his long, calloused fingertips land on her clit.

Aly whimpers. It’s so much, too much, being touched by them both; and then Estinien starts to fuck her, a slow, curling push-pull of those combat-honed digits while Aymeric strokes her clit even slower, much, much lighter than she wants, than she needs, and her brain short-circuits and she can’t think of anything except the pleasure building up, turning her blood to syrup, her mind to mush.

She gasps something out - no words, just garbled sounds, her head tipped back to rest on his shoulder, an arm twined about his neck, fingers grabbing onto stray strands of his raven hair, gripping onto them like a lifeline.

Aymeric presses harder, firmer against that sensitive nub and she cries out, making sharp, quick little pants, straining against their hold as her body starts to shake. 

“Look at me,” Estinien demands, hoarse, gruff, desperate, and she’s helpless to do anything but obey, fighting to keep her eyes open and on his face as her nerves, already alit with pleasure, flood with ecstasy as he crooks his fingers against her walls. Aymeric’s free hand moves to wrap around her throat, keeping her head upright, his fingers resting against her hummingbird pulse.

Estinien’s focus on her is absolute, his attention almost tangible with how intense it is, and it is that concentration, that stark desire on those bladed cheekbones and within that honed gaze that breaks her and tips her over, a high-pitched cry falling from her as she climaxes.

Aymeric’s fingers on her clit gentle, drawing out her pleasure; she shudders with oversensitivity when Estinien pulls his digits from her cunt. For several moments it’s all she can do to catch her breath and regain her bearings. 

“All right?” Aymeric asks her, examining her face closely. 

She nods, shifting her release-heavy muscles to face him. He’s propped back against the veritable mass of pillows, his cock, erect and beaded with precome, resting on his stomach. The sight of it fills her with renewed heat - she knows how it feels in her, and she wants it. Wants him. Wants to watch him take his pleasure from her. The core of her starts to ache with that need. “I believe it is my turn, is it not?” she teases, her voice husky, as she crawls over him.

“Are you certain?” he asks. “We do not have to do anything–” he breaks off on a choked gasp as she slides her wet slit against his length, rocking back and forth, coating him in her slick.

“Do you want to stop?” she asks sweetly, relishing the deep, guttural groan he makes.

Estinien grips her hair, tugs gently to tilt her head back. “Stop teasing the poor man,” he murmurs against her lips, “and fuck him.” His face wears an tenebrous smile, his fingertips massaging her scalp as she feels Aymeric position himself against her entrance, and as he hilts himself in her - sure and certain, with a single, fluid thrust - Estinien kisses her, swallowing her moan, taking away the last of her air so she’s breathless.

Aymeric plants his feet on the mattress and thrusts upwards, knocking a cry from her, setting a slow, measured pace; each time he fucks into her, Estinien guides her down so she takes all of Aymeric’s cock, so she feels all of him, so she’s filled with all of him, again and again and again, and then he adds to the exquisite torment by strumming his fingers across her aching clit, pulling a wanton, lewd whine from her that she barely registers over the frantic drumming of her heart.

Bliss burns through her; she climbs inexorably to a peak that she’s then taken past, taken higher, the tension growing till she’s all but feral from it.

“Aly,” Aymeric stutters out in a strained gasp, and she peers at him through sex-drunk lids. His face is a rictor of pleasure, jaw clenched, that plush, clever mouth taut with desperate tension; his fingers, splayed out on her thighs, dig in deeper, harder, keeping her pinned to him. She knows he’s close - she can hear it in his voice, in the urgent, stuttered way he buries himself in her and she whines, wanting to reach her own peak, bending over him to kiss his mouth, to taste his pleasure.

Estinien plants a kiss behind her ear, scrapes his teeth down the length of her neck and circles her clit with a firmer touch, and she comes with a strangled shout as he sucks a mark onto her shoulder, distantly aware of Aymeric pulling out of her a moment before his spend spatters across her stomach as he reaches his own end.

Her body limp post-climax, she’d fall onto Aymeric’s chest if it weren’t for Estinien’s hold on her. Panting, gasping, she lets him guide her off the lord commander, one arm thrown artlessly over her face. She feels the bed shift and ripple as someone climbs off; she peers through her fingers to see Estinien make his way to the chair and pick up the discarded towel. Sensing his intent, she flushes and sits up, suddenly very aware of how sticky she is. She holds out her hand and he gives her the towel; she can’t seem to look at either of them as she cleans herself off.

“Alyzen.” Aymeric’s voice, soft and filled with concern, breaks the suddenly-tense silence. She ignores him, focuses on cleaning a spot below her belly button that’s already clean, but she needs something to do.

“Aly.” Gentle fingers guide her head up to meet Aymeric’s worried expression. Next to him, Estinien is blank-faced, his eyes carefully watching her every move. “Are you all right?” he asks.

She sighs. This is silly, she thinks. We’re all here because we want to be, so why am I embarrassed?

As though reading her mind, Aymeric says, “There’s nothing to be ashamed about,” his thumb gently stroking the curve of her cheek.

“I know,” she sighs again. 

“I did not hurt you?”

“No! Not at all,” she rushes to reassure him. 

“Would you like me to leave?” Estinien asks, gruff but cautious.

“No,” her hand lashes out, whip-quick, and latches onto his wrist. “Give me a moment, will you? I– I’ve not done this before, I don’t know the– etiquette.”

Estinien smiles, if that barest lift of his lips can be called that, but she can see the relief in it. Her chest warms at the sight - he’d thought they’d hurt her. 

“Come here,” she tells Estinien, carelessly casting the towel aside. He moves slowly toward her, giving her plenty of space to pull away if she chose to. “I’m going to kiss you,” she says. “I’m going to kiss you because I want to. I’m going to kiss you because I want you to fuck me,” and she leans in, giving him time to back away if he so desired.

He doesn’t.

This kiss is soft, tender. Slow and hesitant and sweet, each taking the time to let the other get acquainted, get familiar, each better learning the shape and taste of the other. The embers of her earlier need slowly start to glow again, her skin warming with each brush of his lips against hers. Estinien shifts, curls his hand around the back of her neck, and angles her so he can deepen the kiss. She whimpers into his mouth, quiet, needy; behind her, Aymeric shuffles closer to her, trailing his fingers up and down her back, his touch soothing even as it inflames.

Alyzen lets her hands glide downwards, finally exploring the planes of his chest the way she’d wanted to. Estinien bears as many scars as she does, and she gently touches each one, silently acknowledging the ordeals he’s been through, ducking down to press a kiss to the bigger ones. He groans, capturing a hand and guiding it even lower; she takes the hint and wraps her fingers around his cock, giving him a slow, experimental stroke, gratified by the sharp gasp he makes.

Aymeric and Estinien exchange a look over her head; she doesn’t understand the unspoken communication, but the next moment Aymeric is flat on his back and Estinien drags and drapes her over his chest. Still confused, she stares down at Aymeric’s face, a puzzled frown on her face. “Sit on my face,” he says in a low voice that drips with sin, and Aly flushes bright red but does as he asks, her cunt hovering over him until he grips her thighs and yanks her down. At the first touch of his tongue against her slit she whimpers, falling forward onto Estininen, one hand gripping the dragoon’s shoulder for support. Estinien grins at her, his eyes glinting wickedly; he leans in and she thinks he’s going to kiss her, but instead all he does is whisper, “A fine throne you have, ma belle,” just as Aymeric flicks his tongue against her clit, and whatever retort she’d had melts into a strangled, choked moan.

She has her revenge when she curls her hand around his length, her thumb swiping over the moisture gathered at the tip and spreading it down. He kisses her when she starts to stroke him, his moan pressed against her tongue, bucking into her grip when she lightly squeezes. 

It’s all she can do to maintain any semblance of rhythm, especially when Aymeric is systematically taking her apart; his tongue, silvered as it is in matters of diplomacy, is practically a weapon of pleasure as it laps at her. Heat fills her veins, lightning sparks down her nerves, and she can’t help but grind her hips against his face. All too quickly - perhapy alarmingly so - she’s close to her peak, and she gasps out a stuttered, “Wait,” as she tugs on Aymeric’s hair to get him to stop.

He halts instantly, looking up at her with a crease between his brows. “I’m close,” she explains, forestalling his concern, trying to get her weak, shaky knees to cooperate with her as she climbs off him. Aymeric understands, rolling away from her as she settles onto her back, one leg hooked around Estinien’s waist.

Estinien doesn’t waste any time, taking his cock and sliding it through her slick, coating himself  liberally before pressing the tip against her entrance. He lets out a low moan as he slides in slowly, his eyes trained on her face, watching for any signs of discomfort. He stills when he hilts himself fully, waiting for her to adjust, until she grows impatient. “Move,” she demands, rocking against him. He does, setting a pace that’s hard and rough, just as she wants it, and then Aymeric’s mouth is on her breast, his fingers strumming across her clit and Aly cries out, toes curling into the sheets, the layered pleasure taking her past the peak she’d expected into something higher.

“Let go,” Aymeric murmurs into her ear, placing a soft kiss to her cheek; his fingers sharpen their torment, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves the way he knows will break her, and she does - she falls into her climax so intensely she nearly shrieks, her eyes opening just in time to catch Estinien’s blissed-out grimace as he reaches his own end.

Exhausted, her body little better than a puddle of bones, she’s content to lie where she is and catch her breath, only twitching as someone - she doesn’t even bother to see who - cleans her up. Aymeric’s scent, noticeable even through the heavy haze of sex, meets her nose a second before his warm body presses up to her side.

“All right?” he asks as he pulls a soft woolen blanket over her, and she cracks open an eye to give him a tired, but satisfied, smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The rustle of cloth catches her attention, however, and she lifts herself up on her elbows to find Estinien pulling on his pants. “What are you doing?” she asks, something knotting uncomfortable in her chest.

“I’m getting dressed,” he remarks. “It would not do for me to stay.”

That knot grows bigger. “Don’t,” she says quietly.

He stills and looks at her, something unreadable in that slate gaze. 

“Stay,” It takes every onze of her strength, but she manages to push the word out. “Please.” It comes out so quiet it barely reaches her own ears.

“Are you certain?” Estinien frowns, but his breeches still remain untied. “Were someone to hear of this, it would reflect poorly on the both of you.”

Alyzen tips her gaze away, unsure what to say. She’s been called worse things, but she would never risk Aymeric’s reputation. Any yet, she wants Estinien to stay, to have the comfort of both their presences close as she slumbered. She doesn’t know when she’ll have another chance, given her upcoming journey to the Dravanian hinterlands. She wants the comfort of touch, especially after… this. Estinien leaving, so casually, so carelessly, makes her feel a touch… used.

But she doesn’t want to cause Aymeric a scandal. Ishgard has too great a need for him, whether they know it or not. His image is more important than her petty desires…

“She wants you to stay, Estinien. Surely you cannot mean to deny her? It is a simple enough request.”

Startled, she catches a similar look on the dragoon’s features before her gaze lands on Aymeric. He looks perfectly placid, his features calm and untroubled, a small smile on his mouth.

“But–”

“No one will know of this, and if they do, well. It would merely be yet another rumor among the dozen or so that relate to my ‘escapades’. You know as well as I do how the nobles talk, Estinien.”

“I don’t know, ‘Meric. Maybe he’s right,” she says, gnawing on her lip. “It’s a risk, staying here. I don’t– there’s too much at stake. I should also go.” She moves to climb out of the bed, but Aymeric’s hand latches onto her forearm and brings her to a halt. 

“Should it not be my choice to decide whether or not this is a risk I wish to gamble on? I know full well what the hazards are, and still I want you to stay. Please, Aly.” He look over to Estinien. “You too, Estinien. Stay the night. It would be inconceivably rude to–” 

“Dramamongers, the both of you,” Estinien interrupts. “Far be it for me to keep you from your flowery speeches, Aymeric, but I’m in no mood for them. There’s still a blizzard outside–”

“You were the one who wanted to leave,” Aly narrows her eyes, her indignation rolling off her in waves.

“Aye, and seeing as I’ve no wish to wander out into the cold, I’ll be staying,” He makes his way to her side of the bed, and nudges her shoulder with his hip. “Move over.”

She rolls her eyes, but shifts to give him space. Estinien climbs in next to her, lying flat on his back, doing his best impression of a wooden plank. Alyzen stares at him incredulously, wondering for a moment just why she’d wanted him to stay as she lets Aymeric coax her back down. She’s not a cuddler - not usually - but it feels nice to rest her head on his shoulder, so she does. Her eyes drift shut to the sounds of their breathing, interspersed with the soft crackle of the fireplace, but it isn’t until she feels Estinien press up against her back that she’s able to fully relax.

“Go to sleep,” he grumbles, placing a foot atop hers.

“I would, if you stop talking,” she mutters against Aymeric’s neck.

Aymeric sighs and kisses the top of her head. “Sleep, cherie,” he says.

There’s something very, very soft in her chest, and it winds, like satin ribbons, around her ribs, soothes the snarls in her heart. Here, now, In this moment, she is warm. Held.

She is safe.

For the first time in months, Alyzen has no nightmares.

[lunavadash-creates]

Have I ever told you that you are the sweetest cupcake ever?❤️ It’s impossible to not smile at your posts! I sincerely thank you for all your sympathy towards me! My heart just melts! It’s so rare to find such a pure and kind soul like you. Please, don’t change. Ever.

You made me worried a bit with your last paragraph - maybe I am oversensitive, but I am really worried. It breaks my heart honestly, I feel like you belittle yourself. Babe, you are wonderful! I am not saying this just for you to feel better, but because you REALLY are. Think for a moment about things you’ve already achieved! Darling, you graduated! It’s really something. It is even more something when you study two different majors at the same time and study in language school at weekends. It’s real hardcore! I am proud of you. SO FREAKING MUCH! You did so well and you did so much! Please, be aware of it. You are incredibly talented and creative. YOU are hard working, not me. And you know what? Please, have a proper rest. Don’t overwork yourself anymore. You have to have some space just for you. You have to rest and regain your balance. Don’t think about writing as your duty. I know you feel responsible for all requests you have. But they really won’t run away or disappear. They all will be waiting to be written when you rest. Don’t pressure yourself, I beg you. You know I love your writing. We all here love it. But we love you even more. Taking a break it’s not bad. It’s necessary. When you rest you will be able to concentrate, you will have a fresh mind and new ideas. Just remember that you are a priority.

Speaking of your visit to Prague. OMG, THIS ASTRONOMICAL CLOCK!! I envy you soooooo much! I wish I could see it by myself someday! Thank you so much for the photo! And geez, you are the very first person admitting that museums are wonderful! No one amongst my friends likes them and it hurts so much, because I couldn’t go to the Uffizi museum and Palazzo Vecchio in Florence. I would love to go to any museum with you then! Museum of sex toys sounds really interesting, mostly because it’s not about modern toys. Like, I would never thought that people could have such rich sex life! I heard that in Amsterdam and Paris there are similar museums. But! I bet you would love icelandic museum of punk. Ohh, I am pretty sure you would enjoy it! It’s really small, because well..Its former public toilet. Buuuut, if you like non-obvious museums this is definitely for you. Whale museum was also pretty good. Or I enjoyed it just because I love whales. I was also in a museum of teddy bears in Seoul and it was the cutest museum I have ever been in! Tell me more about that vegan restaurant! What good did you eat? I am not vege myself, but I avoid eating meat on a daily basis so it’s easy to make me excited with such things!

I am not sure if I am better. I mean, I changed my mind about being able to sleep all day. I am not able to sleep at all at the moment. I am tired and my eyelids are so heavy, but sleep never comes. I guess insomnia hits again, it's a never-ending circle. But I am concerned about your leg! I guess you had spoken with doctor since you got xray and usg. Did they say anything? Any ideas of what it could possibly be? It has to be something serious if you have problems with walking! How did you manage to go sightseeing in Prague? Babe, please, take care of yourself! And what does “health problem AGAIN” mean?! Have you had such a problem before?? It scares me like.. we just started adulthood? My friend sneezed and it made him lay in bed for 6 days not being able to move. Literally.

Yeah, I was in South Korea, but please, do not perceive me as your role model. Gods, it would be a terrible decision, really. But, I would love to share some stories with you if you want! I know it's a popular destination these days because of kpop. I used to listen to it, but I think a few years ago kpop was better? More interesting? Now I’m more into khh, but I think I can’t say that I’m into it anymore.

Talking about music! I discovered two new songs and I bet you know them already, but for me it was huge woah woah woah! First of it - Sabaton. Thay covered Metallica’s For Whom The Bell Tolls and they did it so good! Secondly - The Heart Asks Pleasure First. They basically made their own song based on one of my favourite piano songs. Oh my.. it’s sooo good!

And still talking about music! I just wanted to say that I also love our Wombo edits! That one with Ezio singing Stressed out was perfect! Mr Auditore looked very believably singing it. I liked the one with Edward and Haytham. I don’t know the song but it had such a christmas vibe! It made me think of Edward and Shay singing Last Christmas or some other shitty Christmas song together. Why them? No idea. I love Altair, but your latest headcanons could make me love them even more.

And! I just wanted to tell you that you inspired me to take japanese lessons on Duolingo. I am aware that such app won’t help me with learning such a language, but at least I can tell you that katakana sucks. Gods, I hate it so much. Hiragana is so pleasurable to learn. And I know katakana is visually similar, but it is a no no from me. I have learnt some basic kanji signs. And I just admire you so much more.

I hope you will have wonderful and peaceful week, Babe! Once again, please take care of yourself. Remember to have proper rest, sleep at least 8 hours and drink water! I hope your leg will be better soon!

🔪

Hey Knifey! I finally have the right mind set to respond to this ask!

So first of all thank you. You always make me blush with your kind words and I have no idea how to react! I want to squeaze you in a hug and give you all the sweets in the world!

As for the rest. You see i have always worked to hard on studying, so hard it actually burned out everything inside so now all i want to do i nothing! But i cant, i really want to go back to spending my free time in more creative way!

Omg Knifey! Finally i met a museum lover! And gods i want to visit them all! And you know? That Icelandinc museum sounds like such a goal, i want to go there 🥺 and Seoul museum of teddy bears?! I want to go there!

Honestly I love all museums and generally history. I enjoy visiting ruins of castles and villages, going to museums of everything! Art, machines, objects! There are always so many things and so many different ways to find the inspiration! And I always take so many photos for 'future references'. Some time ago i was in a gardens which showed different time of gardens of the world and there was this amazing exhibition of demons from Slavic mithology. That was so awesome! As well as Japanese garden!

In began restaurant i have this fried soy bites in some sweet-spicy sauce. So tasty! Im trying to recreate this recipe but so far its 1:0 for the soy :/

As for my leg. Its swollen AF bht i just... Put on my shoe and pretended it didnt exist. I can walk in good shoes but still im worried. As for that little again... I generally have some weird health issues. I had 5 surgeries for different stuff (spine, tumor, nose) so like... Generally i am healthy... Or at least i was until thst damned foot decided to show off. Its been 4 weeks and im still looking for a solution, running different tests and all. Hopefully they will figure out whag is going on.

Yes TELL ME ALL THE STORIES ABOUT KOREA.! I love stories, tell me everything!

Tbh i never listen ed to k-pop. I guess its just nkt my type of music but I enjoy some Japanese and Chinese songs (one i like is Arrogant by Xiao Zhang). I know songs you sent me and gods they are amazing! I love sabaton, rock/metal im general but I listen to all kind of music. Like Italian soundtrack from Winx, music from burlesque, Dragonforce, shanties. If there are k-pop songs you like you can always send then to me! Ill gladly listen to them all!

Im glad you like those wombos i guess i should make more! 😂😂

And gods. Katakana. 4 years of learning Japanese and I still need katakana board to remember those signs! And tbh i feel like Japanese duolingo has some mistakes ;/ but for Japanese i used lingodeer app and it was nice!

Knifey Im very sorry you have troubles sleeping. Is there something you can do to make it easier for you? Maybe you can take some melatonin pills? Maybe you are stressed? Can you maybe contact doctor, maybe they can help? I dont want anything bad to happen to you! Please take care of yourself? Pretty please?

Love you so much Knifey, you are such a sunshine and I just want you to be happy and healthy!

[amethystaqua]

Of mugs and secrets (Or how Dante found out about your relationship with Vergil)

I finally finished after entire week of writing and editing! I never thought my first fanfic would be of 2223 words! I really hope you enjoy it! :D

The room was still dark as calmness reigned; the only sounds were the soft breathing on your ear of the man sleeping next to you. Vergil was spooning you, the warm feeling making a real struggle having to get up to start your day. You wiggle trying to move the least required, not wanting to disturb your boyfriend’s sleep, you almost made it, until he made some soft grunts. You froze fearing you might have woken him up, but he just turned to his side of the bed.

A smile found its way into your lips as you approached to kiss him ever so lightly on his mouth, then proceeding to leave the bedroom. You started to go through your day’s agenda in your head, the pendant paperwork waiting at work, visiting Nico to pick up your beloved, just repaired sword Polaris, and the appointment with a possible client. However, all your plans came to a halt the moment you notice a dark figure lying on the living room’s couch. Quietly you summon your spear Morgenstern out of thin air and approach the figure, looking around to see if something else was hiding in the shadows.

“Well now this is what I an exciting welcome (Y/N)” a sleepy familiar voice said making you jump out of the impression.

“My god… Dante! I was this close to stab you!”

“As you know, you wouldn’t be the only one sweetie” he sat on the couch while stretching his arms with an audible pop from his bones.

You met Dante when you were just a kid, with no family left, he rescued you from being a sacrifice for a greater demon since you were a Nephilim, however that seemed to be only the beginning of your problems. Demons appeared to be drawn to your blood like moths to a flame and thus, the week that you hadn’t been attacked by a demon, extremely uncommon. So instead of going to every orphanage or school you assisted to save you, Morrison decided it was for the best if Dante just adopted you. That way he could keep an eye on you, so no more civilians were put on danger, and also train you. Dante wasn’t in any sense qualified to adopting a little girl, but with your help (The motherly interventions of Lady and Trish, and some extra cash from Morrison) you two worked it out and in the process, perceived each other a bit like father and daughter.

“What on earth are you doing here?” you made Morgenstern disappear, heartbeat slowing down now that there was no real danger “And how did you get in?”

“Perks from my brand-new powers, and as for your first question… Let’s leave it I had kind of an emergency”

“Ok let’s review your concept of emergency” You leaned into him, taking carefully his face on your hands checking for any sings of cuts or bruises “does it involve injuries?”

“Not this time” he chuckled as you were still inspecting the rest of his body. After confirming the man was in one piece, you decided to head to the kitchen to start making breakfast with Dante following right behind you.

“An angry Trish or Lady?” you opened the fridge to start looking for the ingredients to make pancakes, you really stomach really needed some food now.

“Nah we just had drinks last week” he took a seat on the small kitchen table.

“Another powerful demon king about to be resurrected?” once you gathered everything you needed; you poured some flour along milk on the crystal bowl you took from the kitchen cabinet.

“Funny (Y/N) but no, not a demon, and somehow way more terrifying then one…Patty wants go out on a date with me” you almost dropped the egg you just grabbed for the batter, staring at him in disbelief on what he just said heard.

“Wait… so you broke into my apartment at” you looked at the clock next to the fridge “at 7:00 am just because you’re scared of a 19-year-old who wants a date with you?”

“I was coming back from a job! Morrison called me and he said a miss was waiting for me at DMC! Then I heard her voice on the phone! I’m not going anywhere with her when she’s faking a promise!”

“Dante…” Calm, take a deep breath you thought as you focused on inhaling deeply, he sure had a talent for making you lose your temper sometimes “are you serious? Both Morrison and I were there! I perfectly recall you saying when she’s turned old enough you would date her!

“Damn, so you’re saying she isn’t lying and I must keep my promise?”

“Yeah sure because I definitely want Patty to come on our already uncomfortable family dinners at Nero’s home” you answered sarcastically as you mixed the bowl’s ingredients “Just take her out to eat pizza or something, keep it as casual as possible so she doesn’t get her hopes up”

“Or... you could allow me to stay for a few days”

“Dante...”

“Please (Y/N) only 2 days!” he lifted up the chair and moved next to you “Just until she’s tired of stalking me!”

“Since you’re here not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“I knew I could count on you!” Dante said while lifting you off the ground, on really strong hug just like he has done all these years since you were a kid.

“Be quiet!” you whisper loudly, squirming a bit in his tight embrace “Vergil is still sleeping!”

“Wait, what’s Verge doing here?”  he dropped you while looking at you quite confused.

Oh, you just fucked up big this time… Dante was the only one who didn’t know about your relationship with Vergil. Unknowing of your past together when he was V, Dante’s father instincts awakened, as he warned you to stay away from Vergil, after noticing the constant glances you shared with his twin, fearing his brother got interested in you just because you were a Nephilim.

“He uh... went on a job yesterday, and uh he got poisoned by a demon so he needed someone to cure him!” That was the only excuse your sleepy brain was able to scheme in those few seconds, thinking Dante would buy it… then you remembered the eldest son of Sparda never asked for help.

“So, he decided to come here was the best idea?”

“Yeah” you tried to smile at him to look as convincing as possible.

“My brother looking for you to heal him?... All right never thought I’d see the day the dumbass put his pride aside and ask for help!”

“Heh… guess he still remembers one of the times I cured him when he was V” You sighed in relief, turning your attention on the coffee machine to prepare some, thinking you got away with your little lie until…

“But why he didn’t return to Devil May Cry?”

“I-it was really late and cold outside so I suggested he spent the night here “blush adorned your checks, once you realized the size of the stupidity you just said. “Al-also, I needed to be certain I cured the wound properly.

Dante just hummed and returned to his seat, whether he believed that poorly made answer or not, he didn’t say it. You were about to change topic, but were interrupted by a growling.

“Geez...” you couldn’t help but laugh lightly “I suppose you haven't eaten anything”

“Can’t lie at this point” You smiled at him. Once the coffee machine finished you poured some coffee on 3 cups that you placed on the counter. With all the noise, probably Vergil would join you both for breakfast.

“Stay right here, and don’t touch anything” you said as walking past beside him.

A shower was really much needed. You were already a bit late and didn’t want to waste more minutes, after all, you could always buy something to eat at work if you didn’t have time left. On the hallway to the bathroom you found the elder son of Sparda already got up.

“Oh, hi I thought you were still asleep” you stood on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on his cheek “Didn’t want to wake you up”

“To whom I must thank for making Dante grace us with his presence this early in the morning?” his icy blue eyes showing an evident annoyance.

“That would be Patty… apparently the poor girl really wants a date with your brother to the point she’s waiting for him at Devil May Cry as we speak”

“I’m afraid that doesn’t justify why he’s here” a frown taking over his features.

“Well… “you played with a loose lock of your hair “Lady and Trish aren’t home, Nico still wants to bang him and I’m not letting that happen, and finally Nero made crystal clear last time I spoke to him, he wanted Dante at least 10 mts away from Kyrie and Credo” Your best friends had just had their beautiful son, the last thing Nero needed was having Dante in their house with Kyrie so delicate after her pregnancy.

“Hmpf still he isn’t staying here” Vergil crossed his arms, his answer just as you predicted.

“Please I can’t kick him out of the apartment just like that! I bet if you were the one in his…”

“I would never find myself in such a ridiculous situation like this”

“Right, forget what I just said” you said a bit ashamed while scratching your head.

“Even if I did unlike Dante, I could find a solution on my own”

“My point is! He needs help” you cupped his face in your hands “I know we had plans but come on, it’s going to be just a couple of days” you gave him the best puppy eyes you could.

It wasn’t as frequent as you wished for Vergil to stay in your apartment, between your jobs and the constant efforts to hide the truth to Dante. That’s why those days where two of you just sat on a couch to read, or did any other silly activity together, became so precious memories.

“I promise I’ll make it up for you when he leaves” you whispered in his ear face turning red with the possible implications.

He pushed you carefully against a wall lifting you face and grazing with his thumb your plump lips.

“You should not take promises so lightly my dear angel” you melted at his words, his lips mere inches from yours “I fear you may have acquired my brother’s demeanors”

“Have I ever broken my word before?”

An almost imperceptible smile, one only you got to recognize adorned his face as he claimed your mouth on a passionate kiss, that to your perception didn’t last enough. But you didn’t complain once Vergil separated from you, the risk of being caught by Dante was way too high.

“He’s in the kitchen” you cleared your throat, trying to control your small gasps for air.

“I expected no less” he fixed his hair and clothes, erasing any sings of the kiss you just had.

“Welp I’m going to shower now, not taking long” you passed beside him and closed the bathroom’s door only to open it a few seconds later “Vergil wait! Geez I almost forgot; I left some coffee for you and Dante on the kitchen counter. I’m pretty sure you’ll know which mug is yours since your favorite mug broke in our tiny accident a few nights ago”

You winked playfully at him, but he only limited to clicked his tongue in disapproval and directed to the kitchen. Once Nico knew about your relationship with Nero’s deadbeat father (as she always called him) the mechanic wasted no time to tease, giving you a little present: a white mug with big blue letters that read I’m your daddy for your boyfriend to use. Obviously, once Vergil found out the existence of the mug, the first thing he wanted was to toss it on a trash can, but you didn’t allow it being a gift from Nico.

While you showered the guilt took over you for hiding Dante about you and Vergil. Maybe it was time to tell him the truth, after all, didn’t he always wanted for his brother to embrace his humanity and live a somewhat normal life? You stepped out of the bathroom once you finished, so deep in these thoughts that it wasn’t until you were on your way to the kitchen, that you noticed how quiet the house was. At this point you were so used to whenever the twins were together their heated conversations escalated quickly to an argument that sometimes required a third-party intervention, so the silence was really unusual.

“Ok now, is it okay for you guys to eat pan…cakes...”

Your voice lowered the volume as you looked at the scene before your eyes. Vergil and Dante were staring fixedly at each other with a murderous gaze, each one with a hand around the infamous cup, now you knew the real reason for the unusual silence, Dante must have assumed the mug was his.

“So…” you laugh nervously “I guess the cat is out of the bag.

The end

[ashtree11]

Never Fret None

Going through the doc folders and cleaning up some old stories. I still got a lot to learn but this was fun to write/edit :3

Summary: Dame Victoria Arrington had been chosen to become the personal guard to Princess Evangeline. It is a great honor indeed, but there was a time when the princess was simply Eva and she was Tori, childhood friends. For years, Tori could only admire the princess from a distance and while their banter seem to come naturally as adults, the question of whether it is possible to be a dedicated protector and have such feelings for the princess weighs heavy on Tori's mind. AO3

Violin strings filled the ballroom as ladies and gentlemen danced across the chandelier illuminated floor. From my post in the northeast corner of the grand room, I kept my gaze fixed on the guest of honor of this ball. Princess Evageline glided through dance steps with ease, even as she was traded off to one dance partner to another within the span of minutes.

She wore a violet dress with shimmering rhinestones that reminded me of the sky at twilight. Her dark hair fell to her shoulder blades in soft waves that swayed languidly as she danced.

“See something you like, Victoria?” Markus commented. In his hand was a near empty glass of wine. He was one of the knights, like myself, tasked with overseeing the festivities. He must’ve been relieved of his duty for the night if he’s indulging himself that much. Then again it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done so while on duty.

“Shut up,” I groused and shoved him away, albeit half-heartedly.

“Here I thought that you being her favorite would guarantee you a dance.”

I rolled my eyes. “Regardless of the status you seem to perceive me to possess, I still have a job to do.” 

I resisted the urge to fiddle with the purple neckerchief, the one thing about my attire that set me apart from other knights. Being her personal guard doesn’t make me her favorite, I wanted to say, though I knew I shouldn’t as it would only serve to encourage him. If there was one lesson I could take from my years of training, it’s that there are some opponents you just don’t engage. 

“So noble,” he mocked, voice dripping with sarcasm before he finished the rest of his wine. “Well I hope you have a good rest of your night, Victoria. I have a cot calling for me to retire. Don’t have too much fun with the princess now.”

I went to shove him once more, but he was ready for it and ducked out of the way before disappearing into the crowds. I heaved a sigh and returned my posture to its original diligence. The musicians changed their tunes to a slower waltz and the guests responded in kind as they found new partners. My gaze combed through the sea of faces, looking for the princess. But she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Had she stepped outside?

Just as I thought about searching for her, a gentle hand laid itself on my arm.

I turned to address the person and came face to face with Princess Evangeline. My heart leapt to my throat and my mouth suddenly felt like I had swallowed sand. She was already beautiful from a distance, but up close she was breathtakingly radiant. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was slightly tousled from the dancing. Her blue-green eyes, alight with energy, held me captive. I swallowed.

“Good evening, Dame Arrington,” she greeted with a breathless smile.

I offered a deep bow. “Happy Birthday, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Twenty two years old, I can hardly believe it.”

We’ve become the same age now. “But you’re having fun, I hope,” I said.

“Of course I am and I wish to extend the festivities onto you as well. I can’t imagine that standing here for hours on end is entertaining.”

“Observing the guests offers plenty of entertainment.”

“Not as fun as you sharing a dance with me, perhaps?” There was a familiar mischievous glint in her eye, the same one she wore when we were children and magnets for trouble.

Yet no matter how much I’ve experienced her boldness, had I been drinking something, I would’ve undoubtedly choked on it. “I-I still on duty,” I stammered.

She raised a brow, challenging. “Surely not for the whole night.”

I straightened my posture. I am a knight, not a guest, repeated itself in my thoughts. “I am your personal guard and so I wouldn't be opposed to the possibility of keeping watch for the remainder of the ball. Especially when it means keeping you safe.”

The princess hummed. While her head may have nodded at my reasoning, the devious smirk on her lips dashed away any hope of my words swaying her from what she wanted. “Well, considering that it is my birthday, would it be unreasonable to ask that you stop being my protector and instead go back to being Tori my childhood friend? Just for tonight? Please.”

Tension deflated from my shoulders as I sighed. Who the hell am I to deny such a request? Giving her a small, fond smile, I held out a hand out to her. “As you wish. I must warn you that I’m terribly out of practice. I’m afraid training with a sword doesn’t allow much time for dancing.”

She giggled, took my hand, and pulled me to the dance floor. Once there, she guided one of my hands to her waist while she gently gripped the other. She pulled our bodies closer and said, “That is perfectly fine with me.” Then she grinned, exposing her canines as she teased, “It’s not the first time I’ve had to lead a dance.”

***

“You didn’t have to come all the way done to the training grounds to watch me, Your Highness,” I grunted in between push-ups. “Especially not at this ungodly hour.” I nodded my head towards the still rising sun peeking up from the mountains. The birthday ball was just last night, but I couldn’t allow it to deter my morning routine. What I didn’t anticipate was the princess herself standing outside of the armory, waiting for me.

“And why ever not, Dame Arrington? According to the law, a princess is not allowed to leave her guard’s protective sight,” Princess Evangeline quipped from her seat off to the side.

I did another five push-ups before coming to a rest. I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. “You make it sound as though you have no agency. The castle is your home, you shouldn’t have to wait on me. Besides, watching me train all morning can’t be the most exciting thing you could be doing.”

A slow smirk grew on her lips. “Perhaps. But I enjoy your company.” 

I laughed sardonically. “I didn’t think you were so drawn to mechanical demeanors and stoicism.”

“You seem to forget that we’ve known each other since we were children. So I have the advantage of knowing that under all that knightley pride is still the Tori I grew up with.”

Fair point. Being the few people of the same age of course we’d end up being close, especially as children. I watched as she grew more into a politician from my designated corner of the meeting rooms, while she visited the training grounds with her father the king to oversee the progress of their knights, myself included.

“If you’re still not convinced, then consider this an opportunity to get to know my protector better that isn’t from opposite sides of a room,” she amended when I made no effort to respond.

Then her grin widened as her tone turned teasing. “Besides, it isn’t like I don’t have a pleasing view.”

For the briefest of moments, my eyes darted away as bashfulness overcame me. But I shook myself out of it. We’re in the training grounds, there are several other knights present that she could be admiring. “If you say so, Your Highness.”

I glanced around for my towel. Where did I leave it again?

As if reading my mind, the princess cleared her throat to catch my attention. Waiting in her outstretched hand was the towel.

“Thank you,” I said with a curt nod as I reached out for it.

“My pleasure.”

I had the towel in my hands, yet I didn’t immediately pull away. Nor did she release it. For a moment, we hung in a suspended space, staring at each other, regarding the other as if curious about who would break the spell first. 

I cleared my throat and pulled it away. Running the towel over my sweaty hair and face, I shielded myself from the princess’s glimmering light eyes. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever inquired about what made you want to pursue knighthood,” she remarked. “I remember seeing you swinging a wooden sword quite a lot whenever we played together.”

I thought for a moment as I made my way over to the weapons rack for a blade. “I believe I was about five or six years old and watching the sword tournament with my family when I decided that I wanted to be a knight.”

Princess Evangeline raised an amused brow. “So it was the art of the blade and thrill of the fight that enticed you?”

I chuckled, reminiscing fondly on my old naivete and wooden sword that she mentioned. “At that age it was. Training under Captain Kai made me learn that there is honor and tremendous responsibility in the title, not just knowing how to wield a sword. I value those above a good fight.”

A hum. “Well, I hope it means something when I say that your training and discipline paid off. I’m glad that I have chosen the right knight to be my personal guard.”

Her teasing lilt was gone and replaced with genuine praise and what I assumed was a pleased smile. I couldn’t help but grow warm under the praise. But then the doubting part of my brain poisoned the moment, thinking it too good to be true.

It was just easier to choose someone you already knew than a stranger, came the mocking thought. Regardless, I bowed my head in thanks before focusing my attention on the straw mannequin. I went through the familiar series of strikes and thrusts, hoping she wouldn’t see how I blushed at her words and instead assume that it was due to physical exertion.

***

I’d be lying if I said that the princess wasn’t beautiful. 

Growing up and training within the castle grounds reminded me of this fact constantly as servants and visiting princes went on and on about her. However, her beauty didn’t just lie in how her long raven hair was almost always braided, or how her dark skin looked so soft. It was also in the way she carried herself with effortless confidence in herself and her abilities to the point of coming across as carefree and even unserious at times. She has a bit of a reputation amongst the nobility and outside monarchies to be childish and immature. But I’ve seen her fall into the monarch facade on more than one occasion, especially when she attends business meetings alongside her father. Not to mention how intimidating it was to see how easily she transforms from young Princess Evangeline, to the future Queen Evangeline of Mani.

As cliche as it sounds, I couldn’t help but wonder when I fell for the princess... 

It must’ve been when we were eleven years old. That’s the earliest memory I have of her, yet it feels as though it happened yesterday. It was a few months into my official training, and my mentor had a meeting with the king. To keep me out of the confidential meeting he posted me outside of the door, claiming it to be a “practice in vigilance.”

It was that day that the princess came by hoping to eavesdrop. At first I refused her, taking my duty seriously. She even attempted to make sad eyes at me to guilt me into allowing her through. I stood strong, proud of myself that I was able to resist such a look. 

But then the way she argued her case, how she wished to know more about running the kingdom, and the fiery determination in her eyes, made me cave more than her sad eyes ever could. I stepped to the side with a sympathetic nod, and allowed her to press her ear against the oak door. Thinking back on it, perhaps it was the first time the two of us—a commoner knight-in-training and an aspiring politician princess—shared something in common. We were both chasing a dream bigger than ourselves, determined to persevere against all odds and customs.

When the meeting was finished, she pressed a finger to my lips, “Can you keep a secret?” she asked. Then scurried to hide behind one of the giant urns that decorated the hall before I could even answer.

“Did anyone come by?” my mentor asked as if he were talking to one of his soldiers carrying a report.

My gaze flicked towards the urn for a split second before I shook my head. “No, no one.”

He ruffled my hair with a proud grin and followed behind the king. I fell into step as well, but not before sneaking a look at the hidden princess. She beamed at me as I walked by.

My heart fluttered at the sight. Seeing her smile like that... I didn’t want it to leave her face. It was because of that smile that I haven’t told a soul about her little eavesdropping venture even to this day. It’s childish to hold this secret with such high regard, but I like the feeling of keeping my word to the princess. To me, it’s an unsung layer of devotion as her knight that predates this formal arrangement, one that I carry with private joy.

***

After my morning training, I accompanied the princess to the library where she scrawled notes on parchment as she navigated an atlas and toiled over a record book of trade routes in preparation for a council meeting regarding business with... some kingdom or other I don’t actually know. Politics isn’t my strong suit unfortunately. Attempting to keep all the names of kingdoms and their respective rulers straight is a struggle.

Similar to how the training grounds were my domain, the library was the princess’s. She embraced her monarch prowess here the best, where she can gather her wits and align her facts the most effectively. On occasion she practice her speeches with me as her audience. She’s a captivating speaker that much I can say, one is capable to be as persuasive or as threatening as she needs to be. Though I already knew about the latter even before she honed the skill.

I smiled wistfully, remembering when we were sixteen and I witnessed her fire firsthand. I was in the advanced stage of training while the princess was being visited by princes leading up to her 16th birthday ball. She handled herself fine, each day ending with a proposal that she gracefully rejected, or adamantly refused. It was from my vantage point in my favorite tree branch that I was able to witness adamant refusal. I wasn’t spying per se—not on purpose at least. I was taking an afternoon nap when I was roused by the sound of a prince desperately calling out for the princess.

“Princess Evangeline, wait just a moment,” he pleaded.

I peeked open an eye, grumbling at the annoying disruption.

“I have nothing to say to you Prince Brenden,” came her response.

“But if I could just have a minute of you time I can—”

“You’ll convince me that you are the best suitor, I assume?” she finished. Her voice was like ice, cold and halting. “I wager that you count on your wealth to fulfill such a claim. Or would you rather convince me that I would make an ideal wife based on my looks and my bloodline.”

Curious, I peered through the branches for a better look. The princess was in her riding attire and her hair was in its signature braid, though it looked a tad disheveled, a clue that she had gone riding earlier. Perhaps the prince interrupted it. Quite a mistake to make, if you ask me; the princess enjoyed her moments of reprieve horseback riding. I almost felt bad for the prince. Almost.

The prince, meanwhile, was dressed in a stiff navy blue suit with golden epaulettes and brass buttons. His black boots glinted in the sunlight, and I remember nearly having a headache both from the obnoxious shine and the obvious showboating he was putting on.

The princess didn’t relent and continued her tirade. “Save your breath in any attempt to compliment my ‘kindness’ or ‘soft-nature,’ Prince Brenden, because you’ll find none here. Not after having to endure several days of your relentless pursuits — endurance, it would seem, that you’ve mistaken to be ease and invitation.”

“I, uh, I mean—” the prince stammered.

“Don’t waste my time, I refuse to be another one of your playthings. Oh yes, I am aware of your escapades with other nobles. I have a kingdom’s future to care for, and you have no place in it. Now leave me.”

The Prince of Tanzina walked away as red as his hair. Serves him right. His eyes seemed to have been in a permanent state of leering ever since he stepped off his godforsaken ship. Rage boiled in my chest at the mere thought of him looking at the princess in such a way. It was pathetic for someone like me to be jealous of these monarchs as they vie for the princess’s affections, albeit unsuccessfully. I hoped that perhaps the feelings would fade over time. After all, the princess needs a prince not a lowly knight in training.

The princess lingered beneath the tree, watching the retreating prince with her arms crossed. Then she scoffed.

“I know you’re up there, Tori,” she called without looking.

At the sound of my name, my hand slipped and I fell with a loud, embarrassing yelp. Leaves rained down and me along with them, until I managed to catch the lower branch so that I was dangling three feet above the ground.

The princess glanced up. There was an amused grin just on the cusp of laughing. “That was an adorable sound you just made.”

I let myself fall the rest of the way and bowed deeply to hide my reddening face. “My sincerest apologies for eavesdropping, Your Highness. It won’t happen again.”

Instead of responding, she returned her attention to the prince, who was now a mere speck in the distance. “What did you think of him?” she asked.

That caught me off guard. I straightened up, looking at her curiously. “Of... the prince?”

“Yes him. What did you think?”

My thoughts went back to his constant leering, then to his audacity to pursuing the princess despite her explicit refusal. The reference to his reputation wasn’t unwarranted either. The rumor mill was so ripe with fruits of his more scandalous acts, it’s a wonder how he was even permitted to set foot on our shores. 

Again, it was pathetic that I was jealous of the likes of him.

But that didn’t stop the growl in my throat, or how through clenched teeth I answered, “You’re wise to reject his advances. While I hate stooping down to levels of mere gossip, the things revolving around the prince are less than savory. ”

“I’m glad we agree.” She nodded to herself and heaved a sigh. “These suitors are beginning to wear on me.”

I hesitantly laid a hand on her shoulder, hoping that it offered some solace. I couldn’t imagine being in her situation. “I’m sorry that you have to be burdened with such a thing.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “There’s hardly anything you should be apologizing for.  I’m the one who should be sorry, I know that this is your favorite spot for your reprieves, no doubt I interrupted your rest.”

“You... know about that?”

“Of course,” she smiled bashfully. “It’s a bit selfish, but I hoped that you’d be here. I’m happy to see that you are, especially now that I got rid of that prince.”

I furrowed my brow. “But why?”

She smiled wryly. “Like I said, it’s selfish. Just know that I’m in a better mood. Although,” she took measured steps closer until she was nearly speaking into my ear. My heart hammered against the leather armor on my chest as I held my breath. “I like to think that this simply makes us even.”

“Your Highness?”

Her smile didn’t waver as she picked a leaf out of my hair and released it to the breeze. “The eavesdropping. It is just like when.... Oh never mind. It’s just an old memory.” 

She walked away after saying that, leaving me alone to ponder her words. Or, more likely, to figure out what memory she was referring to. 

But I already knew. And elation filled my chest knowing that I wasn’t the only one who remembered.

A frustrated huff pulled me out of the memory. I’m reminiscing an awful lot today.

From where I stood, I could see a crease between Evangeline’s brows and her tongue poking out from the corner of her lips as she was deep in concentration. As an admirer, it was a habit that I couldn’t help but think was adorable. As a knight and citizen of her kingdom, the respect I had for her with how she took her responsibilities emboldened. But as a friend hopelessly in love, I knew that her time spent over books for countless hours were detrimental to her health and I couldn’t allow that to happen.

With a determined breath, I walked up to the desk and shook her shoulder gently to get her attention.

She didn’t so much as flinch at my touch, a testament to how she’s grown accustomed to my company. She blinked up at me, her eyes glazed and unfocused from exhaustion, further obstructed by stray locks of her dark hair that fell out of its bun. “Yes, Tori?”

“Forgive me for saying, Your Highness, but maybe a break from your work is necessary.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, Tori, but I must have these charts made before the next council—”

“Which isn’t until two days time,” I reminded. Then I realized that I had just interrupted the princess and quickly added, “With all due respect, Highness.”

Thankfully, she didn’t comment on me speaking out of line, instead her eyes widened in surprise. “Two days? I could swear that it was tomorrow.” The princess paused, her brows furrowed in thought. Eventually they relaxed with realization. She shook her head, scoffing at herself. “I’m turning into my father if I could lose track of time and forget something like that. Thank you, Tori, for reminding me.”

I smiled reassuringly. “Of course, Your Highness. Think nothing of it.” Before my brain could catch up to my body, I brushed away the stray lock of hair and tucked it behind her ear. As soon as the strands were in place, my senses slammed to a halt and I jerked my hand back.

“I— my apologies, Your Highness, I don’t know what came over me,” I stammered.

A giggle filled the tense air as the princess stood up from her plush velvet chair to better meet my gaze. “Tori, if I minded such a gesture I would tell you, don’t worry. And regarding your helpful reminder, I’d have to disagree with ‘thinking nothing of it.’ On the contrary, I appreciate your attentiveness very much. I’d catch my death if not for you—in more ways than one it would seem.”

Princess Evangeline replaced her quill in the inkwell, restacked her books, and raised her arms in a long stretch. “At any rate, what shall I do to divert my mind from this task then?”

“You’re.... you’re asking me?”

“You are the one to suggest it,” she chuckled. She pulled her hair out of its bun and set to work on finger-combing it before weaving it into its familiar braid with expert precision.

“Um...” My mind scrambled for a suitable answer. Sunlight shone through the drawn curtains, placing the time of day at least a little after midday. It’d be easy to suggest horseback riding, but somehow it didn’t feel like the right answer. Then I remembered something that she may be interested in. “Have you ever been to the market district when the caravan merchants are visiting?”

She tilted her head curiously. “I cannot say that I have.”

“It’s a newer event that happens once a month or so where foreign travelers come to sell wares that Mani doesn’t produce itself. They usually last a few days, so I try to stop by when I’m able to buy spices for my mother.” My hand went to rub the back of my neck, ruffling the violet neckerchief resting there. I stared up at the ceiling to avoid the princess’s eye. All the while my stomach churned with nervousness. “Never mind, it was just a suggestion. I know you like horseback riding this time of day I can send word to the stablehands to get your horse ready to ride—.”

I stopped when I felt a hand grasp my forearm. The touch pulled my attention down towards the princess’s excited expression. “Actually, I think the market sounds lovely. Do they sell books by chance?”

 She.... liked the idea. I didn’t make a fool of myself. Relief flooded through me. I straightened my posture from the burst of confidence. “Some do, hopefully one will be there for you to see.”

“Then it’s decided,” she said. She grinned, and there was also a playful glint in her eyes, a clear sign that she had shed her monarch persona. Then her eyes flicked to my neck. “But first you need to look presentable for the public.”

“What are you—?”

She reached up to adjust the neckerchief around my neck, and the words died in my throat. Rubbing the back of my neck in my nervousness had turned it askew. Aside from my lighter armor pieces consisting of a breastplate and some arm braces, the accessory identifies me as a personal royal guard rather than a conventional knight. 

I didn’t dare move. My hands shook at my sides and I could feel my breaths going shallow. For the briefest of moments, her fingers brushed against my jaw as she tugged at the soft fabric until the knot was once more behind my neck. As a final touch, Evangeline repositioned the folds until she stepped back to observe her handiwork. After a beat, she nodded in satisfaction.

“There, much better. Care to lead the way, Dame Arrington?”

I stood there in a daze until I finally managed to clear my throat, salvage whatever knightley dignity I had left, and led her out of the library.

The walk to the market district passed by in a blur. Though I was excited to be visiting the caravans again, my mind was reeling with thoughts of the princess. Not only that, but I could feel the princess’s hand lightly bumping against mine as we walked side by side. Despite the white noise of the citizens milling about in the streets, the paranoia that she could hear my pounding heart wouldn’t leave me.

Glancing at her from time to time, the princess’s face was alight with curious anticipation the closer we got to the market district’s gates. All the while, she rattled off questions about my experiences with the caravans. What sort of things did they sell? (Jewelry mostly, and home decor). Where do they come from? (most are northerners but I’m not entirely sure). Have I ever bought anything interesting from them? (aside from spices, I once bought a woven blanket for my mother during the winter

As I answered them all with ease , I could feel myself relaxing. I wasn’t observing the surroundings as I was trained to, rather my focus was entirely on the princess as we conversed as if we were friends enjoying a leisurely stroll. It was... nice. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this at rest with myself. In all honesty, being with the princess like this was what I’ve always wanted since I was a teenager, even though such a thing could never possibly happen. Yet there we were. It was as if we were children again, children without a care for our responsibilities and status.

Soon enough though, the metal clanking of my armor and the ruffle of the princess’s delicate dress reminded me of my place as her protector. I corrected myself immediately, returning my hand to the pommel of the sword strapped to my waist with eyes forward. A look flashed over the princess’s face as I did so—disappointment?—and she turned away from me entirely and fell silent.

Finally we arrived and the princess wasted no time in perusing the nearest stall where tapestries hung from drawstrings. I stood dutifully behind her as she looked, all the while I scanned the area for suspicious activity. Though I couldn’t help but grin whenever the princess praised the merchant’s craftsmanship or inquired about their homelands.

“Don’t you want to look around yourself, Dame Arrington? You sounded excited to be here again,” she said.

I shook my head. “I’m here to protect you, Your Highness. Besides, seeing you enjoy yourself is enough for me.” I realized too late that I said that out loud.

Before I could take it back, that same toothy grin returned on her face. “I’m glad to hear that then, Tori,” she said. 

I stood there frozen, watching her as she casually walked away to another stall. Stay focused, damn it, I berated myself and followed after her. It was a jewelry stall, not by way of gold and silver and gems, but rather they were woven bracelets and leather cuffs with engravings and brass clasps. The woven bracelets were vibrant, coming in a number of different colors and patterns. The princess eyed a baby blue bracelet, running her fingers over the threads and the knots there. The pattern was arranged like arrows tied off by an adjustable knot. She turned it in her hands, eyes full of awe, which didn’t go unnoticed by the merchant.

He was an old man with a snow white beard and rounded spectacles. I’ve run into him in the past—Mr. Kaellin I believe his name was. I knew him to be a reasonable businessman who wasn’t there to swindle customers for his wares. He took pride in his work and took even more pride in people who took genuine interest in them. “See something you like, young lady?” he inquired to Evangeline.

“Yes, all of these are beautiful. The colors are so bright, I don’t think I’ve ever seen bracelets with such life in them.”

Mr. Kaellin laughed gleefully at her words. “Well. First time I ever heard someone talk about my work like that. I’m very flattered, ma’am.”

“I’m happy to say so, sir! You should be very proud,” she gushed. Suddenly her attention was diverted as a merchant next door served up fresh sweet treats. Ever the sweet tooth, the princess replaced the bracelet, albeit reluctantly, and flitted over to the stall. I shook my head, smiling fondly after her.

“That’s a very sweet girl right there. You’re a lucky gal,” Mr. Kaellin mused with a hearty chuckle.

I flinched, making my armor clatter. “Oh n-no I’m not — she isn’t — I’m just her escort.”

“Bah!” the old man dismissed with an emphatic wave of his hand. “I may be old, but I ain’t blind. If there’s one thing I learned in my age, it’s that life’s too short to be denying things and second guessing yourself.”

My shoulders slumped in defeat. There’s no point in arguing, what was there to even win? I eyed the baby blue bracelet. It was nowhere near as extravagant as the jewels she owns and never really wears outside of banquets and balls. But I could help but notice that the color was soft and bright, complimenting the princess’s own light eyes and the sort of childlike aura she possesses that reminds me of the sky on a spring day. The bracelet itself may not suit a princess, but it certainly suited a woman who enjoyed horseback riding and craftsmanship.

“How much for that one?” I asked, jerking my chin towards the bracelet.

“Two silvers and it’s yours,” he answered without hesitation, as if he was waiting for the question.

I looked to make sure that Evangeline was distracted by the food merchant, then pulled out my coin pouch for two silvers. I thanked the old man only to be rewarded with a coy smile as I walked away. Slipping the bracelet away, I pondered when would be a good time to give it to her.

Caught up in my own musings, I didn’t notice a piece of caramel beneath my nose until I nearly ran into the person holding it up.

Evangeline was unfazed and still held the treat up to my mouth. “It smelled so good I couldn’t help myself. Try one!”

“I don’t think I—”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on now, I’m sure you knights can afford a small piece of caramel. Or are you all truly so stuffy and disciplined to not have your resolve shattered by such little morsel,” she challenged.

While every part of me as a knight saw this to be frivolous and not at all a part of my duty to protect the princess, a challenge was a challenge. If she’s going to be cheeky then so can I.

I took the caramel into my mouth, my lips ghosting her fingertips as I did so. The caramel was indeed tasty, rich and sweet. I haven’t indulged in sweets in quite some time. I solely focused on chewing lest my thoughts finally catch up to what I just did. 

“Thank you, Your Highness,” I said after swallowing the candy. Surprisingly, I managed to speak without tripping over my words. 

“Y-you,” Evangeline paused to clear her throat. “You’re welcome, Dame Arrington.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes darting every which way. “You seemed to have proved me wrong. Well played.”

The sight of the princess blushing sparked something within me. In a foreign burst of confidence, I gave her a short bow and a sly smirk. “I aim to please, Princess. Though, I find that the caramel’s sweetness doesn’t hold a candle to you.” What in the world am I saying?

Panic began its crawl and, using the last flicker of confidence, I pointed towards the other end of the row of stalls. “Oh, I believe that’s a bookseller over there, would you like to see?”

The princess, her mouth gaping at my words, could only manage a mute nod, and briskly made her way over to it. I was thankful her back was to me, that way she didn’t see that I was bent over my knees trying to catch my breath as the sheer reality of what I did set in. No, not ‘set in.’ The reality trampled over me like a galloping war horse. Meanwhile, Mr. Kaellin cackled from his stall, no doubt having witnessed the whole thing. I couldn’t care less though as a singular question swirled around in every crevice of my mind: Why did I do that?

By early evening, the princess and I exhausted ourselves in exploring the district. The moment with the caramel wasn’t brought up, both to my relief and disappointment. Relief in the sense that I was still agog at the fact that I invaded the princess’s personal space and said such things to her, but disappointed in that our banter had all but ceased. The only reassurance I had was the redness still in her cheeks and the occasional sidelong glances she gave me. 

Eventually, Evangeline realized that we were going to be late for dinner with her parents and so we rushed back to the castle.

Dinner was uneventful for the most part. The princess ate while she discussed the prospects of the future meeting with diplomats with the king and queen. As the three were caught up in conversation, I stood to the right of the princess’s chair, hand on my sword pommel and eyes drifting to and from the windows and doors in the dining hall. I don’t know what I expect to happen, what with guards already posted outside the entrance and more patrolling the outside. Perhaps the anticipation of something kept me from staring at the princess in front of her parents, but it did little to stop my thoughts from dwelling on our time in the market. The incident with the caramel was especially embarrassing to remember. 

I was such an idiot why didn’t I just accept the piece like a normal person?

Then again she held it up to my lips instead of gesturing for my hand. Right? 

I resisted the urge to bury my face in my palms to wallow in frustration and shame. Regardless of her intentions, I still didn’t ask for proper permission and must’ve made the princess uncomfortable. 

My mind was made up: after dinner I will apologize to the princess for my misdemeanor.

“Some of the servants were talking about how the two of you ventured into the market district today,” the queen said offhandedly, pulling me away from my self degradation. 

“Oh yes, it was a lovely outing. Dame Arrington suggested the idea,” Evangeline said, turning in her seat to smile up at me. 

Lovely? She thought it was... lovely? Gods, maybe wasn’t as much of a disaster as I’ve made it out to be. Holding on to that shred of hope, I gave her a smile in return.

“And what brought that idea about,” the king wondered with a raised brow. 

“I was studying charts from past trades in preparation for the meeting when Dame Arrington reminded me that I should take some time away from it.”

“Did she?” the queen hummed then looked to the king with a mischievous glint. “Doesn’t that sound familiar, dear?”

“Oh here we go,” the king chuckled.

Evangeline perked up. “Mother was always the one to pull you away from work?”

“And now it seems you have Dame Arrington to pull you away from yours,” said the queen before turning to me with a conspirator’s grin. “The things we have to do to make sure these two don’t catch their death, yes?”

I shakily nodded. “O-of course, Your Majesty.”

“You’re an odd one, Dame Arrington. In all my years I don’t believe I’ve had a royal guard to be so attentive to their charge outside of basic protection.”

If my face could grow any warmer I’m sure I’d catch fire completely. “M-my apologies, Your Majesty. I didn’t realize—”

“Nonsense,” the king dismissed with a deep chuckle. “I’d say it’s the opposite of the problem. I should thank you for getting my daughter out of the library. I’m not above admitting that my own work habits are unhealthy, I’d hate to see her fall into the same situation.” 

“Alright, alright, Father, I get the point,” Evangeline interjected.

The king merely shook his head goodnaturedly in response before addressing me once more. “Regardless, you’ve taken to this task very well for the short amount of time that has passed. Captain Kai has trained you well, Dame Arrington. Much like him, you’ve allowed me to rest easy with the knowledge that this family’s safety is in capable hands.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said, beaming at the compliment.

“Yes I can imagine that knowing each other from childhood would help some,” the queen commented casually, though there was a subtle layer of mischief in her tone. I can see clearly where Evangeline gets it from. “I remember you being such a shadow to Captain Kai, such a small girl you were. And my, you’ve certainly grown into your role.”

Evangeline nodded along. “I agree, Mother. I’m grateful to have known Dame Arrington beforehand. I can’t imagine a more suited person to be by my side.” The princess locked her eyes with mine as she spoke. Once more, the newfound confidence abandoned me as I became flustered.

Conversation after that devolved into more political dealings until, finally, the royals had cleared their plates of food. At least, only the king and queen finished. For some odd reason, Princess Evangeline had requested for another meal.

“Are you feeling alright, Evangeline? That’s an awful lot of food,” the queen fretted.

“I’m perfectly fine, Mother. The day’s journey to the market made me more famished than usual. It’s only a small plate, I’ll retire to my room in no time at all.”

“Very well. Just don’t make yourself sick by having bigger eyes than your stomach.” And with that the king and queen dismissed themselves from the dining room, leaving only the princess and myself. Right then, the servant came in with a fresh plate of food, placing it in front of the princess.

“Your Highness, were you not sufficiently fed while we were at the market? I apologize for not being attentive,” I said.

“You’ve been apologizing quite a bit tonight, Dame Arrington,” she observed as she cut into a piece of meat. “Why is that? You make yourself sound so inexperienced.”

“I... I was afraid that my behavior today made you uncomfortable. I suppose now I am over analyzing myself.”

“I can assure you that I am not uncomfortable at all. If anything, I was delighted to see that you still have a fun bone in your body. Always so serious all the time ever since you were knighted,” she jested with her signature grin. Then she gestured to the seat beside hers. “Have a seat, Tori, it’s only the two of us now.”

“What you call serious, I call dutiful,” I argued as steadfastly as I could, while taking the proffered seat. But I’m sure that my stiffened posture and the damn crack in my voice killed any hope of that.

“Of course, of course. I didn’t mean it as an insult.” The princess held up her fork with the piece of meat on the tines. “Could you taste test this for me, please?”

“...Your Highness?” Did I hear her right? 

“Do you wish to see your princess poisoned?”.

I stammered, “O-of course not.” She’s never asked me to taste test before, let alone after eating a whole meal already. I eyed the fork. It was beef from what I could smell; the seasonings stung my nose, but it smelled good nonetheless. I accepted the fork and ate the piece. It tasted even better than how it smelled. I had to fight to maintain composure. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

“Well?” Evangeline coaxed.

I swallowed the food and cleared my throat. “No poison, Your Highness.”

“Good,” she chirped and took the fork back to stab at a piece of her steamed vegetables. “And this one?”

What is she playing at? I wondered as I repeated the action. Again, no poison.

“Oh and you must try this as well,” Evangeline said and scooped up what looked to be diced potatoes. “The cooks have been especially experimental lately.”

I wanted to refuse, but my hunger and the bright, insisting look in the princess’s eyes crumbled any resolve I had left.

The meal was exquisite. The best I’ve had in ages to be perfectly honest. The food they make in the barracks on the regular were serviceable at best, and absolutely nauseating at worst. Before I knew it, the plate was empty and the princess was handing me her handkerchief. Once more, she fixed me with that damning smile of hers.

“Did you enjoy the food?” she asked.

“I did, thank you, Your Highness. But it seems that I’ve just eaten your entire second helping of dinner, I apologize for getting carried away.”

“Tori, you really must stop apologizing for everything,” she protested. “Are you so focused on your own shortcomings that you truly don’t see that it is I who should be sorry? After all, I kept you from your own dinner in my haste to return home. This was the least I could do.”

I froze, the handkerchief poised against my lips. “You never meant to have me check for poison.”

She shook her head, a resigned sigh falling from her lips. “Finally you notice my intentions.”

“But... but why? You didn’t have to trouble yourself like this, Your Highness, I was planning to eat once you’re retired.”

The princess frowned. Then she removed her tiara, and placed it on the table. “Perhaps I am not making myself clear enough to you, Tori,” she said as she stood up and, with a surprising show of strength, turned my chair so that I was only facing her. Instinctively, I clutched at the armrests as the chair squealed against the wood floor. She held my chin, tilting my head up to meet her intense gaze. 

I gulped, breath hitching and feeling utterly small. Her blue-green irises pinned me to the chair.

“Do you remember when we were young, perhaps eleven years of age, and you were “standing guard” outside of my father’s meeting room?”

How could I forget? I almost said, but instead I only nodded.

“I remember how adorable you looked, how serious you were because you believed in your dream so adamantly. That day felt like you were the first person to understand my dream, letting me listen in on that meeting. And you kept it our little secret after all these years.”

I laughed nervously. “Yes I suppose I have.”

“And here you are, a full-fledged knight. So strong and dutiful, it’s truly admirable.” Her fingers that held my chin moved to stroke my cheek. “I hope that I am being clear when I say that I admire you, Tori. I have for a long time, I would dare say ever since that day.” 

“Y-your Highness—”

She pressed a finger to my lips. “There is no crown on my head and it is just the two of us. Just Eva, please. Like what you used to call me before all these titles got in the way.”

“Eva,” I repeated. The name felt so foreign on my tongue, yet still so familiar. It was like an old habit being brought to life after so long how easy it was to call her that. It made my heart skip. “Are you absolutely certain? There are far better suitors worthy of your hand, I’m just a knight I obtained through training not noble blood I have nothing to my name.” I wanted to stop speaking such words, but it all felt too good to be true, I felt the need to find holes in her logic, her choice, to stave off the hope that was building within me before it grew too large to contain.

For a moment, Eva didn’t respond. I thought I had offended her. But she didn’t stop stroking my cheek, and she was smiling at me. “Those princes can’t even begin to hope they could compare to you, Tori. And I have no interest in inheriting wealth. There is no one else I would rather be with.”

“Truly?” my voice was cracked and small. I couldn’t care less.

Eva rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a soft giggle. Just as I assumed that she had something witty to say, she sat herself in my lap and her lips pressed against mine. Returning the kiss with equal fervor, my hands found their way to her hips. I swear my heart could burst from my breastplate. When we parted, I was panting for breath and Eva was smiling that signature grin. We met each other’s gazes and broke into a fit of giggles.

“Are you finally convinced?” Eva mused.

I couldn’t speak, at least not immediately. I was too breathless from the thrill of the kiss. Instead I pulled her into a tight embrace and buried my face into the crook of her neck. Her perfume was faded from today’s activity, but I could still smell a trace of lavender and the scent of caramel from the market.

“Please tell me if this is a dream. I don’t want to wake up,” I managed to croak out.

Eva threaded her fingers through my hair, soothing her nails over my scalp. “I promise it isn’t. What can I do to prove it to you?”

“Kiss me again?”

That earned another bout of laughter and Eva granted my wish not a second later. Unlike the first kiss, this one was followed by many. She lingered on my lips, then pecked the corner of my mouth, moved to my cheek, then ended on the tip of my nose. “How about now?” she asked, resting her forehead against mine.

I nodded mutely, unable to stop myself from smiling. “Well I suppose now is as good a time as any to give you this,” I said.

She tilted her head. “Give me what?” 

I pulled out the baby blue bracelet and her eyebrows raised in surprise. “The caravans only come once a month and often it isn’t the same people who come. So it’s best to get what you like right away.” Then I added in a conspiratorial whisper, “It’s how they stay in business for so long, honestly.”

Excited, Eva slipped the accessory onto her wrist. She her finger tip over the woven pattern, admiring it with the same awe she showed at the marketplace. “Thank you so much,” she said, her voice hushed. 

I felt myself melting at the sight and I laced her fingers with mine.

“It’s nothing,” I insisted.

Eva chuckled once more, bringing our faces closer until our noses were brushing. “I wholeheartedly disagree with you. It’s a beautiful and thoughtful gift. Though I appreciate your attempt to be humble nonetheless.”

Oh god the lewd attempt

Months later

It was a long day of meetings and a luncheon with visiting nobles. My mind was numb with boredom by the time Eva and I joined her parents for dinner. Afterwards, the princess practically dragged me towards her chambers where she pushed open the door and pulled me inside. The door slammed closed as she pinned me against it. The sound of my breastplate impacting the door echoed through the empty hallway, but neither of us paid it any mind.

“You’re becoming shamelessly forward now, aren’t you,” I said.

Eva pressed herself against me, bringing our faces mere centimeters apart. “I’m under the impression that as a woman of action you glean more from a direct approach.”

I brushed my nose against hers, grinning as I spoke. “Is that your roundabout way of saying I’m dense? Are you sure it’s not because you’re impatient?”

She raised an amused brow. “Oh you were dense alright. But look at you, you’re more outspoken. Could it be that you are finally comfortable around me?”

“I wasn’t dense, I was unsure,” I defended. “Besides, one of us had to remain professional as the protector, remember?”

“Yes of course, and it was incredibly frustrating.” She closed the gap between us with a deep kiss. Her lips tasted of the strawberry jam she had for dessert. She untied the purple neckerchief off my neck, tossing it aside before she threaded her fingers through my hair. “It still is,” she rasped against my lips before peppering kisses along my jaw and down the side of my newly exposed neck.

I drew a shaky breath. “E-Eva.”

“It’s so frustrating,” she said, her breath hot and hushed. One of her hands left my hair and traced a path down my cheek, to my collarbone, lingering at my chest, then finally grasping at my hip. “Spending all day in meetings with you in the same room, unable to ravish you.”

“Sounds an awful lot like impatience to me,” I jested despite my breathlessness. 

Eva pressed her leg against my core in retaliation. The hand at my hip dug her nails into the fabric of my breeches and pulled me closer. A shock of arousal shot through me from the friction.  “I’m sorry, darling, what was that?” Eva purred into my ear before giving the shell a languid lick. My head thudded against the door as I stifled a whimper.

“What a sight to behold; the strong and serious knight unraveling right before my eyes. What other sorts of noises can you make?”

I couldn’t respond. Not when the hand in my hair tugged once more to keep my neck exposed to her open-mouthed kisses. All the while, her leg made slow, deliberate thrusts against my core. Unconsciously, I moved in sync, desiring more of her. The room was growing warmer and warmer by the second, which wasn’t helped by the fact that I was still in my armor. Soon my attempts to stave off the moans and whimpers failed, and they flowed freely. At my sides, my shaking fingers curled at the door desperate for something to hold on to.

Without realizing, the straps of my breastplate came loose and Eva pulled away to lift it off of my torso. The sound of it clattering to the bedroom floor brought me out of my haze, but only for a moment before her lips were back on mine. Her hands were like fire as they trailed over my abdomen and raked their way up and down my back.

“Evangeline,” I finally managed to say in between heavy pants. “P-please.”

She broke away to meet my gaze. Her eyes were hooded and dark with desire. Yet there was a glint of mischief. “Oh? Now who’s the impatient one?”

I raised a brow. “You do know that I could easily switch our positions, right?”

Eva chuckled, unfazed by my comment as she traced a delicate finger across my cheekbone. “Of course. But the real question is do you want to?”

No, I don’t. But that was a challenge if I ever heard one. 

I gave her a smirk, savoring her curious head tilt before shoving off from the door and scooping her into a bridal carry. She yelped and soon devolved into a fit of giggles that lasted until I dumped the both of us onto her bed. I climbed on top of her, pinning her hands on either side of her head. I should be gloating in meeting her challenge, but the sight of her so flushed and carelessly happy, all sense of victory gave way to adoration.

“Why, Lady Tori, how very uncouth of you,” she mused.

“Coming from the woman who ravished me against her own bedroom door.”

“I believe the key word there is my own bedroom door. I do what I please here.”

“And what exactly do you want to do?” I inquired, squeezing her wrists challengingly.

There was a thoughtful pause between us. Only our mingling breaths could be heard over the pregnant silence. After a moment too long, I loosened my grip on her wrists as worry set in. “Eva?”

“I want to do so much, but I want your permission first,” she finally said, her voice uncharacteristically timid and quiet.

“And what would that entail?”

She paused. “You spending the night.”

Oh. 

I gulped. “Would... would that be all right?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

Despite her quick responses, her nervousness was apparent in how her eyes darted every which way and the way her bottom lip vanished under her teeth.

“The high and mighty princess has suddenly turned bashful?” I attempted to jest only to have my breathlessness betray me.

[mage-cat]

Style Brainstorming

Alright, reactions to this post convinced me write out the full concept. This is really just a quick pounding-out of the idea with minimal editing, and I still think it would play better visually than as prose, but heck, it’s more than I’ve written in one day in ages. Hope y’all enjoy.

In the wake of a Shorty Squad outing, Peridot was starting to wonder if she would able to keep herself from sticking a sharp piece of metal through the foot of the next human who began a conversation with her by saying something to the effect of “Not so fast, little lady.”

“Why do humans keep acting like I am incapable of performing basic tasks?” she vented to Amethyst after Steven had gone off to see to some biological requirement.

“Because they keep thinking you're a little kid. Wait, let me see if I can Peri-phrase that.” She cleared her throat and said, “They assume that you are equivalent to a juvenile member of their species,” before slipping back into her normal speech patterns. “I know it's annoying. It's kind of hard to avoid when you're on the Shorty Squad.”

“I don't see them treating you like that.”

“Not nowadays, no, but, like, back when we first met Greg, it took him months to realize that I wasn't a little kid. Of course, part of why he was confused was because I was sporting this look at the time.” The difference after the momentary blaze of light was startling. Peridot was certain that the only material difference was the loss of nearly three feet of hair and a change of outfit, but somehow, Amethyst's eyes seemed wider and her face seemed rounder. In addition her clothes had a blousey-ness to them that changed the overall impression of her figure from voluptuous to, well, chubby. The term “baby fat” came to mind. Peridot had heard it used a few times on Camp Pining Hearts, but she hadn't had a clear visual until now.

“You look… cute.” There was no other word for it. It wasn't that it was an unattractive look. It was just strange to see it on Amethyst.

Amethyst grinned. “Yeah, cute may not get respect, but it can help you get away with some shit. Humans assume you can't do stuff, but if you do something that normally would piss them off, they assume you just don't know better. I sowed some chaos back in those days.”

“So why the change?”

She shrugged. “I started hanging out with Vidalia, and there were a ton of cool things she wanted to show me in places where they wouldn't let you in if you looked too young. Plus, seeing Greg running around with long hair reminded me of how much I missed having it myself. Have you thought about what you want to do next time you reform?”

“Yes, but if I'm adding no longer being mistaken for a child to my goals, I'm back to not being sure where to start.”

Amethyst shifted again, this time into a perfect purple copy of Peridot. “Maybe I could help.”

“I'm still amazed that you can manage such an accurate likeness so casually. Well, the exercise certainly can't hurt.”

“Meh, it's just my thing. So, my first thought? I know the jumpsuit is a standard work uniform or whatever back on Homeworld, but I'm pretty sure that most humans see this and think 'footie pajamas,' and those are mostly worn by kids too young to dress themselves, and even then, not normally in public.”

“Garnet wears a jumpsuit.”

“Garnet is over six feel tall. She can wear whatever she wants, and no one is going to give her grief about it. Anyway, a good start is just making this look like separate pieces.” The top of the suit detached from the midsection, while the patterning below that point shifted. The resulting outfit was a crop top paired with high-waisted pants tucked into a pair of ankle boots. Peridot's diamond emblems were gone, but Amethyst figured that star placement could be left for a later design stage.

Peridot scrutinized the effect. “It's such a minor difference. Would it really change how humans perceive me that much?”

“Well, your main problem is that humans aren't really paying attention. I mean, height aside, no little kid is built like this.” She ran a hand from waist to thigh, emphasizing the generous curve between the two points, “The changes are sort of keying in on the stuff that they don't realize that they notice.”

“Interesting.” Peridot said as she tried to keep her mind focused on the task at hand rather than the sudden idea of Amethyst's hands on her body. “I... I'm glad you've made such a detailed study of human psyche and culture. I hope Pearl and Garnet realize what an asset it is to the team.” That got a blush from Amethyst. “Anyway, I've been thinking of a more drastic change, maybe something a bit closer to your look.”

Amethyst duly changed, but the pale tank top hung limp from her Peridot-shaped torso. “You deserve better than to look like a knock-off. Besides, a lot of my look comes from me being sort of round all over. Round gem, round face, round… well you get the idea. You've got interesting angles, they could add up to a powerful look if you used them right. Maybe something like this?” The top's outline stiffened, nipping in at the waist. At the same time, the shoulder straps widened and the hem adjusted to give the resulting tunic to overall shape of a geometric hourglass.

Peridot circled to get more complete look. “I like it. Of course, who knows when I'm going to get to use any of this.”

Amethyst returned to her own shape. “I know you're tough Peri, but it's just a matter to time before our lives get interesting again. You may get a chance before you know it. I'm sure whatever happens is gonna be a totally bad-ass way to usher in your bad-ass new look.”

[safarigirlsp]

I feel like this just ties into the main problem with fan fiction and racism in general. It is a white dominated space and you will never experience the exclusion it entails. It is technically true that you don't have to make fics for me. Hell you could probably write white!reader fanfics and they won't be much different a lot of the others. I don't think anyone's trying to cancel you or getting you to take it down but it is a good example of the exclusion. Cuz along with the hair and the eye color and the blushing and weight, we are not seen as the main character. That's not your fault or anything and you can do whatever you want but idk. It's kind of annoying to see a great fic made by a great writer and then discover this was not invisible with me in mind.

Good evening.

I appreciate you sending me a civil message to address your concerns, which are totally valid. I don’t pretend to understand the experience of others in this fandom or anywhere else. Which is why I have been pretty blatant about not touching politics around this issue. I have nothing to offer on that front and I wouldn’t presume to do so.

I assume that you have seen screenshots of the conversation between JynZ and myself. I will not modify anything I said in that exchange but I will elaborate.

As I stated in that conversation, it was literally not a deeper decision for me than that I wanted a setting that worked for Clyde’s accent and involved horses, war injuries like the character has, an old timey setting, and that wasn’t duplicative of my other stories or of someone else’s. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think that merely using a historical setting could be perceived in this way and that was of course never my intention. I am absolutely guilty of being naive/stupid/clueless/insensitive/you name it and that’s something I should work on. I am sorry that my lack of awareness is something that offended or hurt people. But that is what occurred- there was no malice. I had no intention of offending or hurting anyone.

Honestly, if JynZ or anyone would have approached me differently, it would have gone very differently. I’m still not prone to delete my writing bc I worked hard on it and I enjoyed it, so honestly that probably wouldn’t have happened either way. But if the approach was more along the lines of, ‘Can you try to be more conscious or aware in the future? This setting should be avoided because of XYZ’ I would have said absolutely. However, trying to bully me into making some public statement, delete my writing, etc or else is a bit much. That is not an approach to which I shall respond well.

I also think it’s wrong for anyone to expect that a writer shall produce content that everyone has to enjoy. I’ve stood up for many people on this issue before. You should absolutely expect not to be excluded from a fic and I am truly sorry that happened with my fic. But I don’t agree that because my story was written with some admitted oversights that renders it ‘inappropriate.’ It was also properly tagged so that potential readers could avoid it. Nothing was sprang on anyone who gets 1k words in only to realize that, fuck, this is set during the civil war. Ideally, of course, everyone will enjoy everything, but that’s just never going to happen. I do try my best to create a good product but at the end of the day, I’m just over here writing in my free time to enjoy myself. If other people like it, that’s the greatest compliment to me, but if they don’t, all I can say is that I’m sorry and I tried.

It was a conscious choice made by JynZ for this to blow up and at this point, I’m fine playing the game for the sake of the game. So that you’re aware, I am posting a smutty follow up to my fic in response to her publicity stunt. It shall be tagged appropriately. Reader shall be vague but I understand now that the setting itself is not something that everyone can stomach. I am sorry for any hurt or offense caused to you or to any other reader and I am sorry for stress caused to any bystanders of this cluster fuck. There has been a lot of fallout and emotional upheaval from a situation that could have been rectified privately, served as a learning experience for me, and any similar recurrence prevented in the future.

I do try very hard in my writing to make readers inclusive regarding physical traits, and if anyone catches exclusive language regarding physicality, please point that out to me civilly and I’ll edit it out. It is unintentional and I think that I’m pretty solid on that front. The only exception to this which I’ve said before is that I do and shall continue to write my male characters as BIG, which means they can pick you up etc. And I maintain that any of these guys can pick you up like nothing, regardless of your size!

I am not sure if you’ve read any of my other stories or if you’ve found me today after all the drama, but I am truly sorry if this has affected you emotionally or caused you hurt or distress. You should never be in a position of feeling excluded. This is supposed to be a fun place for everyone to come together and bond by thirsting over characters! If I have impacted that experience for you, I am deeply sorry. Please don’t let me, my bullshit stories, anything else on my blog, or anyone else here for that matter get to you or lessen your experience here. Don’t let me or anyone else bring you down. I’m just a weirdo on the internet anyway trying to write weird ass stories.