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#if yes then I'm indeed a witch
darkdragon768 · 11 months
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Is it that big of a witchcraft to draw with your fingers on a phone?
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(genderly) chill as hell if i was only ever glimpsed / detected like this
#Shrouded In A Rectangle neither sleeves nor an open front to be besieged with? yes#just doing whatever else like doesn't matter. tee cargo shorts which is my best guess rn of my ideal outfit. + sandals Absolutely#unfortunately my hair could never do that. somehow neither am i yet like forties fifties? have i not been at this for eons?#i Can be like uh let's just nobody talk to me i'm busy pensively perceiving truths that you don't ever actually wanna hear about#just the other day it was like hey....a [way Having To Talk could be a difficulty / problem] was under my nose in this lifelong pattern#certainly noticing the Verbal Exchange Demand heaped upon burnout as like [delay delay delay struggle weariness stress]#but also who knows like spent plenty of time just probably indeed Not having to have such exchanges while burned out. not noting them#anyway like this isn't even [dysphoric Ideal Outfit until i could [whatever supposed even more ideal than that gender euphoria]]#though shoutout to that but like nah get shrouded anyway. the only [how do i look] im motivated to consider is: when it's a costume#when it's just me it's like. i guess whatever pants and a comfortable enough tee. need glasses. hair's w/e so cut quite short ig#might accessorize w/things that are fun to me like hey yeah yknow i might want a calculator watch#[yea as a kid it was like :( im actively appreciating the animals supposedly Gross or Bad] if i had hated little friends Sure yaay#if i had disorienting light effects like a pelagic creature. but you don't even need that. like hey i'm nd in real life. i got it#chat i'm in the walls too bestie lmao. if only my bigfoot pose reference Step was this good#tl;dr long rephrasing of my being like; now the gender slay....#& nodding & Noting when [worksheet exercise: what's your gender euphoria look?] is like shrug idk. but this is serving maximally to me; so#going Chat how can i up my uncanny stats. looking up ''isn't it like Uncanny knowledge e.g. so like why not....canny''#but i think the un canny is the Uncanniness Accuser's perspective. not of My ken. your literal weird one maybe#so again apt to be like jk i'm just autistic & shit; i got it....horror shit challenge impossible: Don't have sm typical mundane#[disability moment] as like Unsettling danger/malice cues. challenge impossible; again#subverted here like as [horror holding hands touching foreheads w/comedy] w/o Rescinding just casual disabled behavior/qualities#just remembered like three witches weird sisters etc macbeth. weird uncanny soothsaying gendering. word#anyway i should be shrouded (made no any connection whenever i put the blanket now over my head & shoulders in place min ago)#perhaps the real Ideal Look insight: i do not have any way i wish to be observed by people. secret passages / removed room anytime
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prythianpages · 2 months
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Take Her To The Moon | Cassian
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cassian x love witch reader | summary: Curious over what it'd be like to watch Velaris from above like the stars do every night, you ask Cassian to take you flying.
warnings: fluff
word count: a little under 2K
a/n: I already had a flying fic planned for this au and when I saw that Day 1 of @cassianappreciationweek was flying, I thought why not join? This is my first time participating in a character week! and ofc it's last minute, I promise I'll be more prepared next time.
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A canvas of shimmering stars were stretched infinitely above you. Cassian sat beside you, on the rooftop of your shop, his membranous wings folded neatly behind him. Your legs dangled over the edge, the pale moonlight reflecting off your shiny, pink boots. Your eyes were bright as they traced the constellations.
Our child. Our beloved.
Cassian’s head turned to glance at you. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“The voices.” Cassian replied, a faint furrow appearing on his forehead. Was he going mad? He was sure he had heard them–a distant echo of ancient voices. Yet, you continued to sit beside him, completely unfazed.
So beautiful.
“Oh!” Your eyebrows lifted in realization. Your fingers reached up to brush the earrings you wore, delicate pieces made from the dust shooting stars emitted. “It’s my earrings. They were made from the stars and sometimes speak to me.”
Cassian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do they say?"
“They whisper compliments, mostly. Such as the way I'm as radiant as the cosmos, as beautiful as the night sky…”
Yes. Yes.
You tilted your head in amusement, your eyes reflecting the stars above as if they took residence there. A beauty from the cosmos, indeed. Cassian let out a small chuckle, his ears now being able to distinguish those ancient whispers. You grinned at him, leaning back on the palm of your hands, your hair falling gracefully off your shoulders. 
“They also whisper other things.” You added. “The stars, they see things we don’t. They’re always there, patient and watching. They know our secrets, our deepest desires. They hear our pleas, you know.”
Cassian’s head tilted upwards, lifting his gaze from you and toward the night sky. The moon was full and beautiful. The stars, eternal and steadfast, winking at him, sharp and bright. A sweet fondness had the corner of his lips tugging up. 
“I know.”
A blissful silence enveloped the two of you, both lost in deep thought. Memories of that lonely night swirled in Cassian’s mind—the night he had stood under these very stars, heart full of longing and soul overcome with loneliness. He yearned for someone to gaze up at the stars with, and pleaded with them to send him someone.
A soft sigh escaped you, pulling Cassian from his reverie. His wings fluttered in response, a subtle reminder of the present moment. Perhaps, his pleas had been answered. Because he was gazing up at the stars this very moment with you by his side.
You. Such a bright and beautiful soul. Like a fallen star reborn through the magic of love, and though he hasn’t known you for long, your presence was already illuminating his life in a way he had never imagined.
Take her to the moon.
Cassian's heart skipped a beat, head turning back to you. But you were still fixated on the sky, eyes full of longing, as if you hadn’t heard the whispers of the stars. He wondered what had you so deep in thought and the question was tumbling from his lips.
You blinked, the constellations gracing your cheeks enough for him to see the blush that had settled there. His eyes narrowed briefly. In the the time he’s known you, you have never shown an ounce of shyness.
“The stars are lovely tonight.” You said, dancing around the question. Sensing his gaze on you, you met his eyes, and something lit up in those sparkling eyes of yours. “Want to make a bet?”
“A bet?”
You nodded your head, a bit too eagerly, making him suspicious. Surely, you were plotting something. He could only hope it did not involve any of those pesky little lovebugs you’ve been talking about, another blind date or any more of your love altars. 
One day when he had visited your shop, you had suggested for him to light one of the candles to the altar that spoke to him the most and ask for its blessing. He had meant to light one at the altar dedicated to romantic love but Honey, your cat, had brushed against his leg and startled him. He accidentally lit one of the candles from the altar of erotic love.
It would’ve been fine, really. An honest mistake that could’ve gone unnoticed...if it hadn’t for the old fae woman who had chosen to light a candle at that altar not even a heartbeat before him.
“By The Cauldron, I’ve been blessed!” The woman, who could have easily been his great grandmother, had exclaimed as she threw her arms around him. You had to save him, sweetly coaxing the woman and sending her off with a sleeping potion that’d make her dream of her late husband.
You always meant well with your plans, carefully and thoughtfully scheming to bring Cassian closer to what he desired most—true love. But it seemed fate had a different plan, weaving its own tricks into your efforts. Despite your best intentions, your schemes often ended in failure, leading him back to you.
“If I can accurately guess how many stars are shining in the sky tonight, you have to take me flying.”
A small breath of relief escaped from Cassian. Flying was his territory, his expertise. But the stars…He eyed your earrings, gaze narrowing in on them. “That sounds like a bet you won’t lose.”
He caught the way your gaze lingered on his wings, a hint of longing still shimmering within your eyes. Realization dawned on him then. Is that why you had been sneaking glances at his wings earlier?
“Sweetheart,” he chuckled. “If you want me to take you flying, you could just ask, you know.”
“I can't just ask that! I'm shy!"
“You? Shy?” Cassian laughed again, finding the small glare you sent his way amusing. He shook his head in disbelief. There was a moment of silence and then: “So…are you going to ask me or not?”
You took a deep breath, and Cassian took pleasure in the sheepish look on your face, his wings twitching in anticipation. He watched as your mouth parted before shutting again and raised an eyebrow at you.
Then, finally, you said. “Will you take me flying?... Please."
Cassian stared at you, as if considering your words, even though he had already decided on his answer before you could ask the question. You’ve already done so much for him–have given him hope. He would do anything in return for you. He just wanted to tease you further for a bit but the longer he stared at you, the more he began to lose his resolve.
And when you batted your eyelashes at him, inadvertently striking him with your effortless charm, he was a goner. It was now him feeling bashful. Did you have to be so beautiful?
He barely managed to choke out a “yes” before standing. He could’ve sworn he heard raspy sounds coming from your earrings—like a snicker, almost.
˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 
Cassian’s wings spread out magnificently behind him. He felt the blood rush to his neck at the way you regarded them in awe, stepping forward to admire them more closely. “Beautiful,” you murmured, the stars at your ears whispering in agreement and his wings shuddered at the compliment. “They’re so big. I’m envious.”
“Envious?” Cassian echoed. His chest swelled with pride. You had called them big.
You stepped back, leaving Cassian unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. He had anticipated the usual temptation many non-Illyrians succumb to—reaching out to touch his wings. But you hadn’t. 
“I always wondered what it’d be like to fly among the clouds and stars, to feel the wind rushing past and see the world from above. That's what I was thinking about earlier...and you can do it so easily with those.”
“It is nice,” Cassian commented thoughtfully. 
His wings, though scarred from countless battles and injuries, were one of the things he cherished the most. Each scar told a story of resilience, and he took immense pride in them–in their ability to let him soar through the skies.
And he loved flying. The joy, the exhilarating thrill that coursed through his veins. Flying connected him to his Illyrian heritage but also brought a profound sense of liberation. A way to escape and transcend the limits imposed by the ground and a way to be closer to the stars.
Take her to the moon. He heard those very stars whisper again.
He looked at you, the soft fabric of your ruffled blush top swaying gently in the night breeze. You were patient, hands clasped behind your back.
So with a smile, he said, “Well, what are we waiting for?”
Your eyes sparkled with excitement, and when he gestured for you to come closer, you approached without a word. His hazel eyes, tender and soft, lingered on you, silently asking for your permission. With a nod from you, he bent down slightly. One arm went beneath your knees the other behind your back and then he scooped you into his strong arms.
As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he felt the rapid, eager beat of your heart—a rhythm that matched his own. But his also carried an undercurrent of something deeper, more intense, spurred on by the feeling of you in his arms.
Standing at the edge of the rooftop, he glanced down at you, searching your face for any hint of hesitation or fear. “Ready?” 
“Yes.” You replied and he found nothing but your enthusiasm reflected back at him.
His smile widened and he made a show of his wings. They unfurled further behind him in a graceful manner, a delicate sound reminiscent of a sail watching the wind, resonating in the air. 
“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”
Your arms tightened around him and then you two were taking off, the ground disappearing beneath you.
˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 
Your eyes were wide with wonder, the cool night air ruffling your hair as you gazed out at the world below. Moonlight wove silver patterns across the rooftops, and the Sidra River shimmered up at you. As the clouds drifted by, you reached out with a hand, pink magic fluttering from your fingertips. A gasp of delight escaped you as you felt the misty tendrils of the clouds brushing against your skin.
From this height, every scent was vivid—the fresh, earthy aroma of the forest below mingled with the sandalwood warmth enveloping you. It was all a sensory overload that left you breathless, but in the best way possible.
“This is incredible!”
Cassian chuckled but he couldn’t agree more. He was happy to share this joy with you, the powerful rhythm of his wings beating steadily as you soared through the night sky. The world stretched out in every direction, a vast expanse of shadow and light.
It felt as if you were the only two people in existence, suspended between the earth and the stars…and the stars…
The stars seemed so close that you could almost touch them, and your laughter rang out, pure and joyous. Cassian watched you, mesmerized by the radiant joy on your face, pink stardust fluttering around you both. As he flew higher, the moonlight bathed you in a soft glow that made you look as celestial as the stars themselves...
What if you had been that shimmering star he wished upon?
A strange, profound shift occurred within him, causing his wings to falter for a brief moment. You were too absorbed in your wonder to notice, but Cassian’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. 
He savored the sensation of having you so close, wishing this moment could stretch on forever as the stars did. 
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a/n: The star earrings were inspired from Aquamarine's starfish earrings! I'm saving the fic of where Love witch meets the IC as part of my 2K celebration so the next part might be kind of an angsty one, depending on which comes first. If you asked to be on the tag list and don't see your name, please let me know!
series masterlist
series taglist: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,
@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon, @talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning, @anuttellaa
General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho
@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe
@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna
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simplygojo · 17 hours
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I Like Your Tie...
A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.
Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)
My requests are always open :)
Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader
Word count: 3.8K
Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish), pet name
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The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.
But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.
There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 
You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 
You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 
But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.
As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.
There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.
And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.
There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 
Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.
But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 
The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.
His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.
“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.
“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.
You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 
You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.
“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.
Your heart pounded in your chest. 
“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.
Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 
“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.
He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.
“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 
“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 
The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.
"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.
Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.
“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”
Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.
“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.
The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.
The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.
“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.
That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.
His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.
Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.
You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.
His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 
"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"
His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 
His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.
His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.
He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.
Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."
Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 
His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.
The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.
“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.
He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.
“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 
Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 
With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.
“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.
“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”
You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.
"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.
He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.
You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”
The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 
He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 
“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.
You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.
“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.
“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”
His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.
The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.
He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”
His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.
Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace
His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.
Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.
“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”
Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 
The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.
“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.
His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.
“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”
His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 
Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.
Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 
But he didn’t stop. 
Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.
Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”
Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 
"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.
He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.
“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"
You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.
Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.
Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”
With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.
Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.
"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."
He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 
His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 
“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 
Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”
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Can you please do a Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair x Male Reader imagine? Where Reader is from a popular family of hybrids and tribrids, where Reader is a Vampire, a Witch and a Shapeshifter. And the three of them became roommates temporarily because there were no more available rooms for him in the boys' dormitory.
Tri-problem (Male)
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Art by TanyaF2022 on X/Twitter.
You sigh as you feel the bumps of the road as the family chauffeur, Jack drives you to Nevermore Academy. You pull out your phone and start swiping on Instagram to see all your "friends" stories and whatnot. Rolling your eyes you start to block them all one by one. "Are you okay young sir?" Jack asks as he looks at you in the rearview mirror. "I told you to call me Y/N," you said annoyed. "But if you must know I'm just annoyed. Why am I being punished for something that my parents agree was the right action?" "Well, I doubt the school board was happy to hear you almost ended the life of your classmate," Jack said causing you to roll your eyes. "Please. No one would've missed him. He deserved it. He assaulted Normies to feed his ego. There is no excuse for that." "Yes, but you decided to, hex him, suck out almost two liters of his blood, and shapeshifted into a silverback gorilla to break both his arms," Jack said flatly. "And?" You said as if it wasn't a big deal. Jack just sighed.
"Well Mister L/N your father had informed me of your... predicament," Larissa Weems, the principal of Nevermore said as you sat across from her. "We have had your uniform custom made as your family requested but... I- uh..." she stumbled over her words causing you to raise an eyebrow. "We have no space in the boy's dormitory... and well... since you have no family in Jericho... I'm afraid you'll have to stay in the girls dormitory..." "You gotta be kidding me..."
She was indeed not kidding... here you were... standing in front of a dorm in Ophelia Hall... "Fuck my life..." You sigh and knock. Not like you had a choice all your stuff was there... "Enid. The door," you heard a flat cold muffled voice on the other side of the door "Coming~" you heard a second, sweeter warmer muffled voice. Soon the door was opened. "Hello...~ oh- I don't think I know you... have I seen around?" The girl asked her wide smile which showed off her sharp canines never faltering. She was about 5'2, had fair skin, rosy cheeks, pale blue eyes, blond hair with pink and blue tips, a pink sweater with white and maroon diamonds, a maroon skirt, and white thigh-high socks. You see that inside the dorm another girl was sitting at a desk writing in a typewriter. She had pale skin, black hair that was tied into two even braids, anthracite eyes, and a blank yet focused expression. She wore a pair of black boots, black jeans that went over the boots, a black shirt with white stripes that were slightly above her belly button, a black shirt with Ghostface on it that was the same length as the undershirt, a black vest, and a pair of black fingerless gloves. Before you were able to answer the blond girl's question, the ravenette turned and looked at you, her cold piercing gaze locked with your gaze as she spoke. "Y/N L/N. Correct?" Her voice was cold and monotone. "...Y-Yeah..." You mumble as the blonde's expression lit up. "You're our new roomie!" She exclaimed grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. Now inside you, we're able to see the room clearer. It was split in half, the spider web window was only halfway filled with color on, what you assume is the blonde's side, the other side had no color and was just normal glass with no tint. The blonde's side of the room was very colorful. Her bed frame was white and her blanket was splattered with multiple colors, her bed was on top of a puzzle-like rug with each piece being colored differently, ribbons were hanging from the ceiling, and a desk littered with notebooks, markers, pens, etc. A bean bag chair, posters, and so much more. The ravenette's side was the complete opposite. There was a lamp, a black cello, a black sheet music stand, a desk with a black typewriter, a black bed, and a black leather chair. All your stuff was neatly set in a corner of the room. The blonde let go of her hand as she looked at you her grin somehow wider. "My name is Enid Sinclair! I'm a Fur, AKA a werewolf! Nice to meet you roomie!" Enid said excitingly as she went to the ravenette and grabbed her cheeks making her look at you. "This is Wednesday Addams! She may look gloomy but she's a softie!" Enid exclaimed before Wednesday leaned away scowling. "...Nice to meet two..." You mumbled. "So~," Enid said as she leaned closer to you so close you could feel her breath on your face. "What are you? Fur, Scales, Fangs, Psychic, or something else?" She asked curiously. "Personal space Enid," Wednesday reprimanded her from her chair causing Enid to lean back pouting muttering "I was just asking..." under her breath. "I'm a tribrid... I'm part Vampire, Witch, and Shapeshifter," You explained as Wednesday stood from her typewriter. "Your family is known for that are they not?" Wednesday asked rhetorical. "Your family is known for giving birth to Hybrids and Tribrids," She said monotone with her cold expression. "Yeah... they are," you said as Wednesday nodded. "Weems had informed us of your... incident. Try to behave yourself," Wednesday said as she headed for the door. "Unpack and try not to make a mess of things," she said before leaving. "She always like that?" You ask. "Pretty much," replies Enid.
As the next two weeks passed you got accustomed to living with the two. You found out that Enid would try and snoop when you were on your phone or laptop to find something to put on her blog. When you caught her she blushed and turned away but after that day she would randomly ask to things, favorite color, would you rathers, song taste, etc. You got used to "Addams schedule," as Enid calls it. Basically when she did her writing when she wanted to be left alone, when she would leave for coffee, etc.
As time went on Wednesday had admitted she got used to your presence and even let you watch her write. Yoko, a fellow vampire and friend of Enid said that most Vamipres have a calming presence around them. Ironic. So since Wednesday hadn't really spent a prolonged time near vampires she was getting a heavy dose of it.
Enid on the other hand would paint your nails, do your hair, take you on friend dates, etc. You would talk to her about werewolf stuff, since you had cousins who were part werewolf you could relate in some aspects. After five months of living with the roommates, Weems came to visit.
"Hello girls, and Mr. L/N." "Yo," you did a two-finger salute from Enid's bed, your head in her lap as she dyed the tips of your hair. "I have news, one of the boys has moved out of his dorm as his parents found a suitable house in Jericho, so that means that Mr. L/N here will finally be moving to the boys' dorm. Fun!" Weems said with a smile but Enid stood up causing your head to fall onto the mattress. "What!? B-but he can't- I mean-," Enid stammered but Wednesday spoke I'm her usual monotone and cold tone. "What Enid is trying to say is we don't wish for Y/N's leave. He's been here for six months now. We have grown attached. So much so," Wednesday said as she stood from her desk and walked over to you, who had sat up. She cupped your face, causing you to raise an eyebrow, she then leaned down and kissed you softly. Her hands were cold to the touch. Her lips were soft and plush and tasted like coffee. Wednesday soon pulled away and looked at Weems. "We've started a polygamous relationship," She said as she looked at Enid who was blushing. Enid quickly walked over to you and kissed you as well. She was nervous, unlike Wednesday. Her lips were warm and soft. They also tasted like milk tea. Weems blinked a few times at this action. "W-well... this certainly complicated things..." she said as she looked at you. "I will... talk to your mother... see what she says about this...," She spoke before leaving. You were flustered and confused. The room was silent for a few seconds before Wednesday spoke. "I have him Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We share Sunday." "T-that works..." Enid mumbled. "The fuck just happened?" You ask as Wednesday rolls her eyes. "You just got two girlfriends."
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fixyourwritinghabits · 5 months
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Listen, I know we all have stuff to do and summer is coming up and aaaaaaaargh, but in the name of Optimus Prime I'm begging y'all to shed the habit of using descriptors like 'the shorter one' or 'the blond one' instead of using proper names.
This is a very common trope in fanfiction, and I get it, it gets so boring to write the character names over and over again. I also know it will be so hard to unlearn, don't ask me about the pain and suffering I have endured. But you have to break yourself out of this habit, because all it's doing is making your stories harder to follow and losing your readers.
Let's say you're writing an Avengers fanfic, and you've got Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor in the room together. The following scene might go a little something like this:
"We must stop Unicron," the blond one said, flexing his muscles.
"Indeed," the dark-haired one replied. "If only he weren't so handsome for a metal monster."
"Thou is speaking nonsense," the bearded man said, subtly flexing his biceps harder. "Also, who is speaking right now?"
(Yes, I did write Unicron instead of Ultron like I'm pretending not to be a nerd, shut up.)
The actual dialogue tag indicators above are nonsense, pure gibberish, and those exaggerated for effect, wouldn't it just be easier to follow if you just used names? Also, sometimes Tony's goatee is more beard-like so it's even less helpful in figuring out who's talking. Depends on what era of comics you're reading.
ANYWAY, Who is doing what is one of the most important things you need to convey. In a busy dialogue scene, in a high action scene, especially in a romance scene between two people of the same gender, clarity is key. It feels boring to write, I know. It will be a better scene in the end.
So when should you use character descriptors in your writing?
When you need to reiterate an important character feature that is either relevant to how the main character views them or how they view themselves. Example: Her brother, the soldier, the Hobbit, etc.
When you need to reiterate an important character feature to the plot. Example: The god of thunder, the stowaway, the white witch, etc.
When you have a minor character who is better defined by their job or role than there name. Example: The second mate, the boatswain, the cook, etc.
When appropriate to the scene. This one is harder to define, but if you have a quiet moment where the main character reflects on the scoundrel he has a crush on, long paragraphs of just using the name Alex might be better peppered descriptors of his personality or notable features, or - depending on your character - 'that cocky asshole.'
When shouldn't you use character descriptors? When they are boring, unhelpful, and not distinctive. Referring constantly to someone as "the taller man" or "the blonde" will come back to haunt your ass years down the road, believe me. Break free from this prison before you snap awake at 3am, haunted by the one stupid scene you can never unwrite.
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br0kenangel · 2 months
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀
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꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝐴𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑛 𝑥 𝑊𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱
♡ㅤ𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝅄ㅤೀ
˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
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The afternoon sun bathed the garden in a warm, golden glow as you strolled through the vibrant blooms, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The sound of small, hurried footsteps caught your attention, and you turned to see little Aegon toddling towards you, his face a mixture of excitement and frustration. "P'etty! P'etty!" he called, his words slightly garbled in his eagerness. You knelt down to his level, smiling as he reached you, his tiny hands grasping at your skirts. "Aegon," you said, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "What's got you so worked up?" He took a deep breath, his violet eyes wide with the importance of his news. "P'etty, 'dwagon! Fly!" he stammered, his little face scrunching up with effort. "Dragon? Flying?" you repeated, trying to piece together his fragmented words. "Did you see a dragon, Aegon?" He nodded vigorously, his curls bouncing. "Y-yes! Fly! An'...an' big!" His arms flailed wildly, trying to illustrate the size of the dragon he had supposedly seen. You couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. "A big flying dragon, you say? My, that must have been quite a sight." He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the garden. "Come! See! P'etty!" You allowed him to lead you, his little legs moving as fast as they could manage. "All right, all right, I'm coming," you said, trying to keep up with his pace. "Show me this big flying dragon." He led you to a patch of flowers, stopping suddenly and pointing at a particularly large butterfly resting on a bloom. "Dwagon!" he declared proudly. You bit back a laugh, kneeling down beside him. "Ah, I see," you said, your tone serious but affectionate. "That is indeed a very impressive...dragon." Aegon beamed, clearly pleased with himself. "Yes! Dwagon! Fly!" You nodded, patting his shoulder. "You're right, Aegon. It does look like a dragon, doesn't it?" He nodded solemnly, then suddenly his face lit up again. "An'...an' biddie! Chirp chirp!" He mimicked the sound of birds with his high-pitched voice, looking at you expectantly. "A bird, too? My, you have had an exciting day," you said, ruffling his hair. "Where did you see the bird?" He pointed up at the trees, his finger following an imaginary bird's flight path. "Up! Chirp chirp! An'...an' g'one!" You nodded again, trying to keep up with his energetic storytelling. "The bird flew away, did it? Well, you must have very sharp eyes to see all these wonderful things." He grinned, clearly proud of himself. "Yes! P'etty, come 'gain?" he asked, his voice hopeful. You smiled, taking his hand. "Of course, Aegon. I'll come with you anytime." He tugged you along, pointing out every flower, bird, and bug he could find, his words a jumbled mix of excitement and mispronunciations. But you didn't mind. His joy was infectious, and you found yourself laughing and exclaiming along with him. After a while, you both sat down, Aegon climbing into your lap and resting his head against your chest. "P'etty...happy," he murmured, his voice sleepy now. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'm happy too, Aegon," you said softly. "You make me happy." He sighed contentedly, his eyes drifting shut. "P'etty...love." Your heart swelled with affection as you held him close. "I love you too, my little dragon," you whispered, watching as he fell asleep in your arms.
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More baby Aegon and witch reader:
𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶
𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦
𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵
@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.
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cherriegyuu · 1 year
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in which you tell mingyu about a movie you watched as kid.
pairing: mingyu x fem!reader genre: fluff word count: 839 warnings: slightly suggestive, not nsfw
a/n: the movie mentioned is practical magic (yes, i'm old). this was not proofread
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There’s no way I got this lucky, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t move your eyes from the bathroom door, where your boyfriend stood in nothing more than sweatpants that hung a little too low on his hips. His chest was exposed, arm flexed, as he ran a towel through his hair.
Really lucky.
In pure amazement, you watched as Mingyu tossed his towel inside the washing machine and turned it on. A second later he sat by your side. 
“When I was a kid I watched this movie with my sister, right?” you started.
Mingyu furrowed his eyebrows, a playful look in his eyes. 
“You really were a TV only kind of kid, weren’t you?”
Rolling your eyes, you laughed. That was kind of a recurrent conversation with the two of you. Mingyu always made fun of you for watching too much TV and you mocked him with whatever embarrassing story his friends were willing to tell you whenever you met one of them. Seokmin was always one who seemed ready to share a different memory Mingyu would like to keep a secret.
“I was trying to have a moment with you, but you ruined it” 
Being as dramatic as you could, you sighed and stood up. Mingyu laughed loudly, pulling back down on his lap so you were straddling his thighs. He pulled you closer to him, your chest against his bare one, and rested his hands on your waist.
“Tell me about this movie” he all but whispered.
A small shiver disturbed your skin at the sound of his voice, because of how close he was to you. His eyes suddenly felt too intense. Still, you put your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the short strands of his hair. 
“When we were kids, there was this movie. These sisters were witches and did all sorts of spells” Mingyu was trying his best to hold in his laugh, pressing his lips together. You squished his cheeks together with one of your hands “You can’t laugh, this is serious”
Mingyu took a deep breath, swallowing his laugh. His hands moved back and forth over your body, from your waist to your hips to your ass, then back up again. It was really hard concentrating on what you wanted to say.
“I won’t laugh, I promise” he gave you a quick kiss on the lips and settled back against the couch. 
“Once, when they were kids, one of them did this sort of spell and it was her wish for a partner, husband, or whatever” your relationship was still quite new to just go throwing the words husband around but Mingyu didn’t seem to mind “From what they would look like to their personality. And we had quite similar lives, you know, sisters who were raised by their aunts. So we decided to try the spell. We were ten, so give us a break, okay?”
Slowly, Mingyu dropped kisses on your skin, from your eyes to your neck. 
“What did you wish for?”
You pulled on his hair, dragging his face away from your neck.
“Mingyu, focus” he nodded at you, a smirk on his lips “I wished for someone who would whistle my favorite song, who would be marvelously kind, who could flip pancakes in the air, whose favorite shape would be a star”
The first time you saw Mingyu, he was, indeed, humming your favorite song in that cute voice he always did — the poor man couldn’t whistle to save his life. He probably was the kindest person you ever came across in your entire life. The first time you spent the night at his place, you learned that he could flip pancakes and cook whatever weird idea you could come up with and still make it delicious. And he liked stars as much as the next person. 
“First, I asked for a tall man. This is a very important part of the spell. My sister didn’t wish for it. And now look at her, dating tiny Jihoon”
That drew a laugh out of Mingyu and he squeezed your waist.
“Then I asked for a man with a mole on the tip of his nose” you placed a feather like kiss on his nose, then on his temples “Someone with eyes that would wrinkle whenever he smiled too hard. And finally, someone with a vampire like smile”
He really tried to hold back his smile, but he just couldn’t. He pulled your face close to his, kissing you with all that he had. Although he never made a spell when he was a boy, you too were the kind of woman he had dreamed of.
“You are, quite literally, the man I wished for as a kid” suddenly Mingyu stood up with you in his arms. Out of reflex, you wrapped your legs around his waist “What are you doing
“I think we should go to the bedroom and be really, really, quiet because Seokmin is bound to get home at any second now”
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wheres-mylove · 1 year
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damsel in distress | sihtric kjartansson x fem!reader
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Summary: Sihtric arrives in Winchester for Aethelflaed’s wedding, and finds a princess for himself by the way - the bride’s younger sister with a feisty temper and an overpowering desire to break Aethelred's nose. But there’s a little more to the story than just that.
Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language!
Word count: 2.9k
The young warrior stared at the ground, not daring to look his lord in the eye. He had warned him. Everyone had.
“She's gone?” Uhtred asked, trying out a sympathetic tone, realizing it was not the time to mock his friend's misplaced feelings.
“Yes, my lord,” Sihtric confirmed quietly. “The silver too, before you question me about it. Gone with her.”
“No woman, no silver,” Uhtred summarized and crossed his arms over his chest. “Just so we're clear, I would have agreed to the marriage. Suffer if you're foolish. But not for too long. You need to find someone decent.”
“We would have named our first son Uhtred, lord,” he said, absentmindedly staring ahead.
“No, you would not,” the older warrior replied, visibly grimacing.
“It doesn't matter now,” Sihtric muttered, earning a comforting pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile from Uhtred.
“Find Finan, we'll meet in the main square.”
Sihtric Kjartansson walked gloomily ahead, pondering why he had such bad luck in life. He took out his anger on a few pebbles scattered on the dusty road. The gods were not too kind when it came to sending him a woman who...
“Sorry, sorry!” He heard a girl's voice behind him and several other irritated grunts or a hushed 'Watch out.' He turned his head slightly and it was a miracle he avoided colliding with a cloaked figure in a visible hurry.
“If you'll excuse me, lord,” the girl quickly spoke, not even bothering to give him a passing glance, squeezing past him and running into a narrow passage between a stable and a nearby dwelling.
Sihtric furrowed his brow and observed the stranger leaning against the wall, anxiously looking towards the main street. With her slightly tilted hood, he was certain she was a young woman, clearly running away from something or someone.
What was he if not a hero?
“My lady,” he began, but faltered at the sight of her angry gaze.
“Are you crazy? Go away,” she snapped, waving her hand at him dismissively. The hood fell back, revealing the girl's face in all its glory.
Sihtric didn't know what to do. The lady was beautiful. But also pissed off.
“God, you idiot,” the girl said with a heavy sigh. Then she grabbed his arm forcefully, pulling him into a dark alley with her and positioning him with his back to the street.
Sihtric still didn't quite understand what was happening. Being pushed around by a mad gorgeous woman was not part of his plans for today. He didn't have any plans at all since the last one ran off with the remnants of his wealth.
“If someone is hiding, they have a reason for it and don't want someone standing in front of them, announcing it to the world,” she scolded him like a disobedient child, and Sihtric felt himself blushing.
“Right. Makes sense. I apologize, my lady,” he stammered, not taking his eyes off her.
She was even more beautiful up close.
“Discreetly look behind you and see if a monk is coming this way,” she instructed him gravely, to which he gave her a half-surprised, half-amused look.
“A monk is leading the chase?”
“Yes, you see, I'm a witch, and I was about to be burned at the stake this afternoon.”
Sihtric chuckled softly, but he complied with her request. He thought the girl was joking, but indeed, a monk was heading their way. Slightly bewildered but definitely annoyed, he was looking around vigilantly.
“Are you really a witch?” Sihtric suddenly asked with a hint of uncertainty.
“I sacrifice boys like you,” she replied without a trace of a smile, but mischievous sparks danced in her eyes. He smirked. “But seriously, you might come in handy. The holy man won't sniff around here for long. Let’s make him look away.”
She threw her arms around his neck, and without hesitation, Sihtric placed his hands on her hips.
Only after a few heartbeats did the absurdity of the situation dawn on him. He stood very close in a dark alley with a girl whose name he didn't know, protecting her from the wrath of a monk.
“But honestly, what about your troubles?” he asked gently.
“Brother Ceolwulf sometimes gives me calligraphy lessons. My father says I scribble rather terribly. I ran away to avoid that pleasure. And apparently, Lord Aethelred is due to arrive soon,” she almost spat the name as if it left a foul taste. “Maybe I'll go see that prick. Quite a commotion over a simple farce.”
“You don't fancy lords from Mercia and royal weddings, my lady?”
The girl didn't answer; instead, she scrutinized Sihtric intently. He felt a wave of embarrassment under the piercing gaze of her sharp eyes.
“And what business does a Dane have here?” she asked after a while, smiling slightly at the sight of his blush. Brother Ceolwulf flashed behind Sihtric, so she tightened her grip and rested her head on his chest. The warrior held his breath. A stream of muffled words reached him. “No, no, you can talk; that rascal is just behind you. You could also use a bath, you know? Great, he went searching on the other side. You could also tell me your name, for the sake of appearances and decency.”
“I'm Sihtric, lady,” he said with a laugh, which (Y/N) not only heard but also felt. “Together with my lord Uhtred, we arrived…”
“Uhtred?” the girl interrupted, raising her head with surprise. “You serve Uhtred?”
“Do you know him?” Sihtric tilted his head, intrigued.
“Oh, I'm in trouble,” she said barely audible, more to herself than to him. “I have to go. I apologize for the assault.”
She took a few steps back before Sihtric panicked. He didn't know her name. He didn't know where to find her. And he definitely wanted to see her again.
“What's your name, lady?” he called after her, but she had already blended into the crowd heading to the main square. He wasn't sure if she had gone to greet Aethelred. Even if she had, he wouldn't find her in that mass.
Brother Ceolwulf came to the same conclusion. The reprimand for the princess of Wessex would have to wait.
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The delicate fabric of her blue dress fluttered with each touch of the wind as she gracefully crossed the courtyard. They strolled towards the main hall.
“I only have two options: jump out the window or become a nun,” Princess (Y/N) announced in a calm manner.
“Only jump out the window, my dear,” Father Beocca specified. “Nuns would chase you with crosses and torches in their hands.”
(Y/N) looked at the priest. He had an amused expression. And a soft spot for the princess. According to Alfred's commands, he shouldn't tolerate certain behaviors and opinions. But how dull it would be if he asked her to stifle her carefreeness and restrain her sharp tongue.
“I was just praying a moment ago.”
“Yes, with the intention of our heavenly father making your sister run away from the altar.”
Aethelflaed didn't run away from the altar. She paid no mind to her sister's efforts, who, with sheer willpower, tried to steer her away from it. (Y/N) saw that the bride was enchanted by her groom, and she wanted nothing but all the happiness this world could fit for her. But something in the back of her mind warned her about Aethelred. An unbearable premonition. She blinked a few times, telling herself that she simply didn't consider any man worthy of her dearest sister's hand.
She scanned the gathered guests with her gaze. At the back of the hall, she spotted Uhtred. She nodded at him slightly. He raised an eyebrow with a smile. They had last seen each other when she was a little girl and kicked him in the leg. She wondered if he still limps.
And then she noticed Sihtric.
The warrior paled the moment he saw her standing side by side with the king.
His stranger. The king's daughter. The princess.
Only he could have such damn luck.
“It's her. The girl I told you about. It's her!” He nudged Finan's arm, to which the latter chuckled.
“Sure. Your whole story sounds shady already. Don't involve noble families in it.”
“I'm telling the truth!”
“I believe ya. Yesterday, for example, when little ol’ me was drinking beer with king Alfred…”
Sihtric sighed, but he didn't try to convince his friend anymore. He didn't register the entrance of the bride or a word spoken during the ceremony, and especially not Finan's mocking. His eyes were fixed on the princess in the blue gown. He held his breath when she finally looked at him. She smiled faintly but immediately averted her gaze, with a violent blush on her cheeks.
Sihtric Kjartansson felt his heart beat stronger.
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Uhtred embraced the princess with laughter, still wondering how she had transformed so quickly from a snotty child into a breathtaking woman.
Sihtric paid special attention to that breathtaking part, as he was having trouble with that.
“The older you get, the uglier you become. Good to see you, Uhtred,” she greeted him politely. The man snorted and gestured towards his companions.
“Princess (Y/N), these are my friends…”
“Sihtric,” she greeted, bowing her head. He smiled widely, and Finan's jaw dropped, before he realized he should probably bow too. The idiot wasn't lying. Unbelievable.
“Do you know each other?” Uhtred furrowed his brow, looking at the young Dane, then at the princess. “Is there something I don't know?”
“Yes, we've been secret lovers for the past year,” she replied, rolling her eyes. Sihtric's face took on various shades of red, much to Finan's delight.
“You haven't changed at all,” Uhtred commented with a wave of his hand.
“I would be more at ease if this reception wasn't so dull,” she said, wistfully glancing at the cup in Uhtred's hand. “Is he watching?”
Uhtred glanced at the king and nodded. (Y/N) groaned.
“So, after Edward, it's your turn?” Uhtred inquired, earning himself a murderous glance from the princess.
“He'll probably be a twat or at least hundred years old,” she grumbled in disappointment. “Beocca presented me with a list of potential candidates. About each one, he says they are pious, as if I were looking for a personal priest and not a husband. Why can't he say that one of them is kind? Wise? Or handsome.”
She shifted her gaze to Sihtric and smiled mischieviously.
“We only hope to be invited to your wedding, Princess,” Finan laughed, observing his friend's bashful demeanor. "I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he'll be no older than ninety-nine.”
“That's kind of you. By the way, Sihtric, did you take that bath-”
“Princess!” Father Beocca called out as he passed by. “Maybe nunnery isn't the worst idea.”
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Humorous remarks and a grin froze on her lips when (Y/N) looked into her sister's eyes. The food tray nearly slipped from her hands.
Aethelflaed didn't have to say anything. She didn't have to scream or complain about her misfortune. (Y/N) understood everything from that one look and felt the unpleasant sting of tears.
“I will kill him,” she declared forcefully, slamming the tray onto the wooden table with a loud bang. “I will kill that arse.”
“(Y/N), please...” Aethelflaed whispered. “It won't do any good. And I am capable of handling it myself.”
“You shouldn't even say that,” her sister protested, getting closer and gently placing her hands on Aethelflaed's cheeks. They were wet. “It's alright, sweetheart, it's alright.”
She planted a kiss on the top of her head and headed towards the door.
“Don't tell anyone, (Y/N). Especially not father,” she begged, getting up.
“I'll only speak to those who already know,” (Y/N) replied, barely containing her anger towards Aethelflaed's pathetic husband. “You're the Princess of Wessex, for God's sake. You're his woman, and he shouldn't treat you like this. He won't have a cock if he lays a hand on you again, trust me.”
“You'll get into trouble, (Y/N),” Aethelflaed warned, shaking her head nervously. “He can hurt you as well-”
The princess didn't listen, for she had already left the chamber. Blind rage consumed her, but so did a sadness so great that it was even more dangerous than her anger. She knew there was something wrong with him. She shouldn't have allowed this marriage to happen.
She should have protected her sister.
Aethelred appeared just in time. He strode down the corridor, his posture straight, absentmindedly trailing his hand along one of the tapestries.
“Lord Aethelred,” she snarled, making no effort to be polite. “I was hoping to have a word with you.”
The man turned slowly, bestowing upon her the sweetest and most deceitful smile.
“Little princess.”
(Y/N) tried to calm herself, but she wasn't making much progress.
“Let's get to the point,” she hissed, finally getting Aethelred to reveal his true face from behind the mask he wore daily at the royal court. “I saw my sister and the state she's in. I will not tolerate such insolence or cruelty. Who do you think you are? Hurt her again and I...”
That pile of shit started laughing.
“Terrifying is the barking of an angry bitch.” He took a few lazy steps in her direction. “I almost pissed myself in fear.”
“And you should, because I promise that...”
Aethelred rushed forward, pressing her against the wall with a hand around her throat.
“Well, what? What will you do? Maybe you'll switch places with her to spice up this tedious life of mine a little bit."
Sihtric wandered through the palace, looking for lord Uhtred his excuse, but in reality he hoped for an encounter with the princess. They were about to head out from Winchester soon. Leaving without saying goodbye was not something he wanted.
He found them just in time as (Y/N) pushed Aethelred back with all her might and punched him in the face. They all heard the unmistakable crunching sound.
Lord of Mercia was trying to regain his balance, clinging to his bloody face in shock.
“You whore,” he snapped, but Sihtric was already nearby, placing his hand warningly on the axe.
“Hope I misheard something,” he said to Aethelred, voice dripping with venom, and then looked at the princess. “Are you alright?”
“She broke my nose, of course she’s fine,” the man snorted, trying to stop the flow of blood. “You will answer for it. Just wait. And your heathen friends won’t rush to your rescue, I assure you.”
(Y/N) took a deep breath, holding on to the fist that struck Aethelred. She watched him leave with an absent look in her eyes, and then as if she finally registered Sihtric's presence.
If he had come a few moments earlier, he'd surely fling himself at that arsehole in her defense. But it turns out she was perfectly able to fight back. Sihtric felt a sudden surge of admiration and respect for the princess in a beautifully embroidered dress, who did not hesitate to throw a punch.
“Are you sure he didn’t do anything to you? Shall I go after him?” he asked, but instead of answering, (Y/N) slid slowly down the wall. Sihtric crouched beside her, worried as never before. He gently held the injured hand. He raised her bruised knuckles to his lips, but left only the ghost of touch on them. “Princess?”
“He hurt her,” (Y/N) sobbed helplessly. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but she had a feeling Sihtric would know how to keep a secret. “He hurt her and he will hurt her again, and there’s nothing I can do. He will hide behind his title, behind his lands, wealth and nobility. He was right. I can't do anything."
She was shaken by a wave of tears, and Sihtric instinctively embraced her with one arm and supported the back of her head with the other. She cried there on the cold floor, in the arms of a warrior who couldn't stand the sight.
He knew what was going on. And his heart ached at the thought.
“You were very brave,” he whispered, letting her lean on his chest. “Others would look away. You confronted him. You are a brave, brave girl.”
He kept saying it like a mantra, holding her in his arms until the crying subsided. He wiped the tears from her face with the thumb of his hand when she finally lifted her head.
“I won’t run away from that either,” she whispered in a faint voice. Sihtric raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture. “I can laugh about it and put it off, but I’m just a woman with a cursed title before my name. They'll hand me over to a man I won't choose. And he will have the right to violence as soon as we tie the knot.”
Sihtric shook his head. This fate wasn’t meant for her. There was strength and courage in this lady’s heart that demanded freedom. And demanded love, the wild and untamed kind. 
“It can not be like that. I won’t allow it.”
“You don’t have much power in this matter, Sihtric. You don’t make the rules.”
“Let me decide for myself.”
He looked into the eyes of the princess and knew that the battle he would have to face was beyond his means. The only witnesses to this promise were the faces on the ancient tapestries. Men's faces behind unbreakable laws, traditions and customs.
But Sihtric Kjartansson was a warrior. And if there’s one thing that warriors can do, they can fight.
832 notes · View notes
thisgirlnamedblusy · 8 days
Note
Hi! Hope you’re doing well! 😊 I was wondering if I could request something fluffy? How about a story where reader moves in with Donna, bringing along her cat? At first, Donna might be scared of the cat or worried it will scratch and ruin her dolls. But over time, she starts to really like R's furry friend.
And btw, you’re my favorite author on this app! Love you!
Yesss!!!!! Thank you for your request and for you words of support :)))!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!!
A furry member of the family
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Fluff,
Word count: 6,701
Summary: You think Donna doesn't like your friend...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
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“That's all, I guess,” you sighed after your last trip to the estate, one from which you would never return.
Those cracked walls, that humid and floral essence that made up the old mansion were not simply a place to visit. It was finally your home.
Of course, a mansion was much better than the humble cabin you had in the village.
You were always a happy, cheerful girl, one who saw the good side of things, the light in the middle of so much darkness. It might seem very daring to smile at the life that had been offered to you, but still, you did it.
The Cult, the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, the Lords... Everything that surrounded you seemed enough reason to bow your head and pray for, every night that you closed your eyes, you would still be able to open them again.
Fear, submission and faith were things you lived with, that you ignored as much as possible so your smile would never disappear. Neither the lycans, nor all the sermons, nor the rumors surrounding those divine authorities scared you.
In that village there was no bogeyman, no deceiving witch, no terrible wolf with an insatiable appetite. No, the fear with which mothers cradled their children didn’t come from legends, the danger was real. But… did you care? Not at all.
Living alone in that dark world seemed terrible, but actually, it wasn't.
But your days of solitude, your humble and quiet life in that old cabin would not last forever.
As if you were the pagan mockery of the Gods, you made your way through that dark corridor, into that blind spot that people refused to look at. The Lords seemed like monsters, but deep down, they were people.
That almost utopian thought with which your eyes turned to those dangerous figures could have cost your life, but it didn't.
Among all those mysterious beings, there was one in particular that had caught your attention: A woman who was said to be deformed, sick, dangerous, disturbed, the youngest of the Four Lords, the woman in mourning, covered with a black veil, Donna Beneviento.
It didn't matter how many times you had heard absurd things about that woman, about what she was capable of. Curiosity overcame the irrational fear of the unknown.
Convinced that things weren't so dire, that those rumors were an exaggeration, you decided to put your own optimism to the test, to put the joy of living you had to deal with every day to the test.
Meeting that lonely woman was a risky step, knowing that, indeed, the rumors were true but bordered on legend, was the best decision of your life. Selling your handmade clay works, you got a glimpse of the mystery surrounding that woman in black.
You weren't particularly good at making and painting vases, but to her, it seemed like art. Maybe it was just because the clay resembled the porcelain she worked with.
What seemed like an innocent first visit, led to many more, led to continuous commissions from the lady in black. It could be a boost to your humble business but... You never saw it that way, especially when, after a rainy afternoon, you stopped being a saleswoman to become a guest.
A quiet dinner, an unknown kindness… Donna was strange, yes, a few words woman, with a hoarse voice, a stoic pose. As time went by, the rain and the inclement weather stopped being excuses for you to spend time with her.
Like a story marinated over time, cooked slowly with patience and curiosity, you came to understand that the joy that characterized you only came to light when Lady Beneviento was near.
Sad in her solitude, happy in your company.
 It seemed like a difficult phrase to decipher until, after seeing the horror that the veil claimed to contain, you gave a name to your feelings. Yes, you loved her. She was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Nothing, not her scar, not her problems were reasons to come back home that night, the night in which your lips finally met.
It was an unexpected love, a welcome one, a love you would never regret, one you would enjoy day after day until, after her constant insistence, you decided to take that last step and move in with her.
Her little pleas, her fear of losing you, her crises… Everything would be much better with you always by her side. You couldn't say why it took you so long to accept that house, with that woman, even with that sinister and rude doll, was the place you wanted to be.
“Is that all?” the lady asked, nervously playing with her hands while you looked around at that pile of stuff you brought from your old cabin.
You looked at her and nodded with a smile, walking slowly to calm her nerves with a small kiss.
“Well, I was missing, but here I’m,” you whispered affectionately, losing yourself in the brightness of that beautiful eye, of those features that only you had the privilege of admiring.
“So... I won't have to wait to see you through the window anymore?” Donna asked, gently grabbing your waist while you shook your head.
“No,” you said amused, panting when, with a grip typical of romantic novels, the lady bent you over, held by her grip while she kissed you again, in a way that you could only see in her movies. “Hey... Donna...”
She laughed after kissing and again, and again. That woman with a hidden smile, who never laughed, who didn't feel, who had no heart according to her legend, seemed happier than ever.
“I'm so happy, tesoro...” she murmured, helping you to get up, playing with your hands affectionately. “I can't believe you're here…”
“Well, well,” you laughed, fighting those quick kisses with which your face was adored. “Anyway, it was like I lived here.”
“But you always left… You always left me…” she lamented, caressing your cheek.
The sparkle in her eye was erratic. She could transmit happiness, but also madness, sadness and fear at the same. Luckily, you had already gotten used to it.
You shook your head, sighing as you heard her verbalize her greatest fears again; the fear of you abandoning her, of being alone again.
Only your smile was enough to calm her nerves, just one look, one to which the two of you had become hopelessly addicted.
“Ahhhhhhh!” an irritating squeal took you out of that romantic moment.
It shouldn't have surprised you. Donna and you weren't the only inhabitants of that place. Always by Donna's side, always ready to remind you of your simple village status, there was Angie.
“Angie, per favore… Don't squeal…” the lady whispered, annoyed by the interruption.
You shook your head, downplaying it, pulling her chin so your lips would collide again.
“Donna, Donna!” the doll shouted, ignoring her owner, running towards you and pulling her dress hard. “Donna, you fool, stop mixing fluids with (Y/N) and listen to me!”
“Oh, Angie, che vuoi?” Donna said, with a look of disgust, causing the puppet to let her dress go.
“Mo-Mo-Mo-Mo monster…” the doll stammered, pointing towards your stuff. “Monster!”
“Monster?” you asked amused, looking where the puppet had pointed. Oh, yes, surely for Angie it would be a monster. “Oh, that's right…”
You separated painfully from your lover, walking slowly towards your luggage and taking the box the doll indicated.
“Don't bring it near here!” Angie protested, taking refuge behind her owner, who looked at you with curiosity. “Donna, a monster…”
“It's not a monster,” you said, with a firm voice, opening the small gate of the box and taking out its contents.
“Don't take it out of there, silly!” the puppet shrieked again, causing a sigh of annoyance from the doll maker, who seemed to look at you perplexed.
“Why?” you asked amused, cradling your pet in your arms. “It's such a cutie…”
Oh, that's right. You forgot to mention to the lady in black that you didn't live completely alone. On one of your days out, you found what would become your faithful companion, a cat, one with black fur and bright eyes.
“(Y/N)? What is that?” Donna asked with a frown, looking at the feline suspiciously.
You, with the animal still in your arms, smiled, moving his paw in greeting.
“A cat,” you said amused. Donna was confused, gently shaking her head. “My cat.”
“Your cat? Since when do you have a cat?” the lady asked, stepping back, with Angie cowardly taking refuge behind her dress.
“Oh, for a couple of years now,” you explained, extending the animal's paw towards her again. “Meet Bubbles.”
“Bubbles,” she repeated, with a confused sigh.
You nodded, proud of your cat, of its black fur, of the company it offered to your strange life.
“Yeah, I found him in the river. The poor thing was frozen to death. I rescued him and well...” you said, petting the animal, who purred peacefully in your arms.
“Get that furry thing out of my sight, silly!” Angie shouted, comically poking her head out.
You put on a haughty look, hugging the animal closer while shaking your head.
“Oh, come on, are you scared of a kitten?” you joked, putting it down on the floor.
“I'm not scared!” Angie shouted, following the curious animal with her gaze.
“Um, (Y/N)...” Donna said, in a low tone, approaching again but trying to surround the cat instead of interrupting its exploration. “You didn't tell me you had a cat.”
“Didn’t I? I think I really did,” you said, blinking in confusion. “Don't you listen to me when I talk to you, darling?” you joked.
Donna smiled shyly, not finding the right words.
“Yes, I... You're just so beautiful...” she sighed, biting her lip and running a soft hand over your neck. “Sometimes I get lost in your gaze.”
“Donna...” you murmured, laughing amused by the compliment, by her eternal flattery. “Hey, there's no problem, right?”
Donna moved away a little, glancing sideways at the cat, which also seemed attentive to the conversation.
“No, but...” she whispered, scratching the back of her neck. “(Y/N), I... I wasn't expecting a cat.”
“Relax, it's a good boy,” you said, with an innocent look.
The lady laughed nervously, shaking her head.
“Good? He’s a scratching and biting machine! He can’t stay here!” Angie protested, running away from the animal, which seemed to have caught a curious interest in the doll, who fled cowardly.
“You’re a biting and scratching machine too, and here you are,” you said in a cocky tone, crossing your arms.
“I’m the Great Angie, silly,” said the doll, comically running away from Bubbles. “I live here, not like that furry thing.”
“The Great Angie…” you muttered, rolling your eyes, seeing how Donna seemed to think the same as her doll, looking at your cat distrustfully. “Come on, it’s just a cat.”
“A cat…” Donna sighed, blinking erratically. “(Y/N) I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“Why not? He keeps a lot of company,” you said, a little worried about the lady’s reaction.
“Yes, but…” Donna said, tilting her head towards the animal, which comically, like in a comedy movie, did the same. “What if he scratches the furniture?”
“He won't,” you answered immediately, starting to get nervous.
“Oh, okay but…” she murmured, stopping looking at the animal and getting closer to you. “My, my dolls, (Y/N), he might, might ruin them.”
“Yes, and that includes me!” Angie added, without taking her eyes off your furry companion.
“If you don't want him to live with us, say it clearly, Donna,” you said, with a cold look.
“It's not that, it's just…” she said, breathing heavily, walking towards you, putting her legs over the cat and grabbing your shoulders. “He could, he could stay on the grounds and then he'd have… Freedom to… Well, to do cat stuff.”
“No, I'm not leaving him,” you denied, with a more intense look. “He's my friend.”
“Your friend…” Donna snorted, turning her head back to the cat, which was walking elegantly around you. “Tesoro, I…”
“He was so alone…” you said, pouting. “You can't ask me to leave him…”
“I didn't say that,” the lady said, frowning.
Okay, plan B.
“Please, Donna…” you said in a sweet voice, bringing your hands together and making puppy dog ​​eyes as you leaned towards her. “Let him stay… Please…”
“Don't get fooled, Donna! She's a manipulator!” Angie squealed, eliciting a subtle growl from you, who never lost that innocent look.
“Please, please…” you insisted, gracefully moving your lower lip, your eyes shining.
“Oh, Io…” she stammered, looking at you and then at the cat repeatedly. “But, but…”
You tilted your head, emphasizing your pout.
“Va bene…” she finally sighed, causing you to throw yourself into her arms with a dazzling smile, covering her cheek with kisses.
“Mmm, thank you, thank you, thank you,” you said as you jumped for joy, picking up your pet from the floor. “Did you hear that, Bubbles? You can stay.”
“But, but…” Donna interrupted, putting a hand on your chest to get you to move away. “You’ll be the one to take care of him.”
“Sure,” you said, nodding, kissing the cat’s head, which purred pleased. “Say hello, Bubbles… Say hello, Donna… Come on, pet him.”
“Um, I…” the lady stammered, slowly bringing her hand closer to the animal, a trembling hand that passed through the cat's black fur. He meowed surprisingly, causing the lady to back away in fear.
“Oh, don't be scared,” you said amused. “He’s an adorable ball of fur, you'll see.”
“If, if you say so…” she murmured, playing with her hands, with a confused look.
“Donna, you silly…” Angie hissed, tugging at her dress again. “He's an evil beast. He's going to bring us a lot of trouble.”
“You are an evil beast,” you said, amused, placing some of your stuff away while owner and doll watched the movements of the cat, which sniffed around curiously. “Honey, help me with this.”
Donna approached cautiously, helping you move your delicate clay bowls. “Do you think there will be room for everything?”
“Yes,” she answered dryly, without losing sight of the animal, which climbed onto the small table where Donna sewed from time to time, looking with interest at one of the wool balls.
“Stop worrying...” you sighed, cupping her face in your hands. “He won't give you any trouble.”
“Hey, you furry burglar!” Angie shrieked, causing a loud scandal when Bubbles grabbed one of the balls in his jaws, fleeing in terror, leaving a trail of yellow thread around the house.
Donna looked at you with a frown while you blushed.
“Um, I'll buy you another one…” you said shyly, scratching your head.
“You mean I'll buy another one,” she said in a low voice, sighing annoyed.
You shrugged your shoulders with the best weapon you had, your innocent smile.
The lady in black reluctantly agreed to live with Bubbles, although she wasn’t able to hide her dissatisfaction. You were not going to get rid of your companion, that was clear. You would have to work very hard for Donna to adapt to this new member of the family.
The days passed calmly, well, relatively calmly. The doll maker was tense, she wasn’t comfortable with the intruder. She always watched him from afar. She didn’t approach him despite the fact that, since you rescued him, he didn’t stop following you everywhere, day and night.
“Donna, please…” you begged one night already tucked into bed, while the brunette was quietly reading, or rather, pretending to read.
“No,” she replied with a sigh, with a cold look.
“He misses me,” you repeated, using your best acting skills.
The days were simple. The house was big and it wasn't hard for the lady in black to avoid contact with the cat, but… The nights, oh, the nights were very different.
The agonizing meows of poor Bubbles echoed off the walls of the mansion despite being in the basement. You, like every night, begged your girlfriend to let you take him down with you.
“I said no,” Donna hissed, frowning every time the cat meowed desperately. “Oh, taci… Taci!”
“He meows because he wants to be here with us,” you explained, pointing at the ceiling. “He was used to sleeping with me.”
“Well, he'll have to get used to not doing that,” Donna murmured, turning a page of that book she wasn't reading.
“But Donna…” you said with a sad look. “I promise he won't bother us, just…”
“No,” she insisted, shaking her head. “He can meow all night long if he wants.”
“You're… Ugh,” you protested, waving your arms exaggeratedly. The lady in black didn't flinch at your gestures, blinking disinterestedly. “You're a grumpy witch.”
“What did you call me?” she hissed, with a dangerous look.
“Grumpy witch,” you repeated cockily, looking at your nails with disinterest. “Aren't you a powerful Lord? I can't believe you're scared of a cat…”
“I'm not scared of the cat,” Donna protested, putting the book on her lap, gritting her teeth.
“Please…” you said amused. “You haven't been near him in two weeks. He scares you, admit it.”
“Okay, yes, he scares me,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm scared because he'll destroy my dolls, and my house.”
“Our house,” you joked, with a raised finger. “And he doesn't do that, you've already know.”
“Mm, yes, I've seen how, mysteriously, all my wool balls have disappeared, and how curious, that thing always seems to be present at the crime scene,” the lady in black commented, with a proud look.
“Oh, you're such a great detective,” you mocked, running a hand over her shoulders and kissing her cheek. “It must be very stressful for him to be in a new place, you have to understand.”
“No, it's not stressful for him, it's stressful for me,” she said, gently pushing you away. “Shut up once and for all!”
“Shhh, don't yell,” you protested. “He would shut up if you let him down.”
“No,” she said again, with a dark look.
You shrugged and lay down on the bed.
“Fine, enjoy the concert then,” you said angrily, covering yourself with the sheets.
Donna sighed, getting a little closer to you and resting her head on your shoulder.
“I think we could do something to distract ourselves,” she purred in your ear, kissing your neck. You tried not to smile at that seductive display of affection, but you couldn't help it.
“Mm, what are you thinking?” you said, with a mischievous smile, letting the lady lay you down on your back while kissing you.
“I don't know...” she whispered with a mischievous smile.
“Meow”
“Ah!” Donna squealed, when a too close meow interrupted what seemed like a night of passion.
Bubbles appeared on the floor of the room, sitting, looking at you with curiosity.
“Bubbles!” you shouted, a bit scared too. “But what are you doing here?”
“I let him go down!” Angie said, entering the room too, with her hands on her hips. “He wouldn't stop meowing!”
“Angie…” Donna protested, moving away from you and looking at the cat with distrust.
“I can’t sleep with that evil beast next to me!” the doll protested.
“Were you sleeping?” you asked, stroking the cat, who had climbed onto the bed, satisfied, rubbing himself on your body. “Are you even aware of being sleepy?”
“You don't have a brain and you’re alive, so don't ask stupid questions,” Angie mocked, with a cocky pose.
“No, no, get down,” Donna said, pushing the animal, who, apparently, wanted to greet her too. “Down, down.”
“See? He just wants some company,” you said, watching how, despite Donna's rejection, the animal insisted, climbing onto the bed again and again.
“Angie…” she sighed when the puppet also climbed onto the bed, settling into her favorite spot, between you two. “Go away, and take that furry thing with you.”
“No! If he stays, so do I,” the doll said, pushing you. “Get away, silly.”
You laughed in amusement, shaking your head.
“Well, it looks like we have company tonight,” you commented, letting your pet lay down net to you.
Donna groaned and turned around.
“Just tonight, you hear me?” she hissed, turning off the light.
“Yes, yes…” you said amused, closing your eyes.
Of course, that warning didn’t come to pass.
The days passed and the nights stopped being little, solitary moments just for Donna and you, well, almost all of them.
It seemed that the lady in black was slowly adapting to the animal, but a show of affection on her part was still just a fantasy.
One afternoon, you and Donna were reading quietly. Your body on hers lovingly, her breathing calm, everything was perfect. The lady in black turned the pages while caressing your hair, giving you soft kisses from time to time, kisses followed by tender giggles, sincere smiles.
But, also from time to time, the lady looked up, observing Bubbles, who sat in front of you, looking at you with curiosity, almost without moving. Donna looked at him briefly and went back to her reading, moving uncomfortably.
That gesture was repeated several times, which made you have to hold back your laughter.
“Your cat won't stop looking at me,” Donna whispered, frowning, watching the animal over her book.
“He probably finds you curious,” you said, leaning a little closer to her. “Don't pay attention to him.”
“Curious?” she asked, turning the page while you shook your head.
“Hey, I wasn't finished yet,” you protested, returning the book to its previous page. “Are you actually reading?”
“It's hard for me to read with those eyes piercing through my soul,” she commented, with a serious voice, looking at the animal whenever she could.
“Donna...” you sighed, kissing her cheek, a gesture that finally managed to get a tender smile from the lady in black. “You know I love you, right?”
“Not as much as I do,” she whispered with a sweet voice, emphasized by her subtle accent, one that you adored. “Ti amo così tanto…”
“Mm,” you purred amused, rubbing your head on her shoulder with a tender smile, closing your eyes. “You have to teach me to speak Italian…”
“Mm?” she murmured, curious, running her free hand over your body, bringing you a little closer to her. “Do you want to learn?”
“Yes, I would really like to be able to say those beautiful words you say,” you whispered, sighing relaxedly. Donna looked at you and nodded, kissing you briefly on the lips.
“A language is neither pretty nor ugly, (Y/N). The important thing about words is the feelings with which you say them,” she commented, sighing too, without looking at you, with her eye fixed on the book.
“Oh, is that the first lesson?” you asked amused, biting your lip.
Donna nodded slowly, looking up, and startled.
“Hey, where did he go?” she asked in a different tone, sitting up.
“Who?” you asked, annoyed due to the lack of contact.
“Your, your cat, where is he? He was here just a moment ago,” the lady said, looking around.
“Leave him alone, he must have gotten bored of watching us read,” you said in a calm voice, burying yourself in her chest again.
“Mm,” she murmured, changing the calmness of her face to a tense one, with her one eye half-closed.
“Hey, get down from there!” Angie's screams interrupted that peaceful calm, that romantic moment.
The two of you looked at the source of them.
Apparently, Bubbles felt like doing some climbing, and had gone up onto one of the cupboards in the living room, walking dangerously among some of Donna's dolls.
“Cazzo…” the lady growled, closing the book and approaching the cupboard. “Come down from there!”
You stood up a bit worried. Bubbles was certainly not the most agile cat in the world.
“Bubbles,” you said, approaching slowly. “Come down, come on,” you ordered the animal, pointing to the floor.
The cat, as if he wanted to make fun of you, meowed, licking one of his paws and continuing on his way.
“Oh, no…” Donna said, running towards the furniture when that furry body dangerously passed by one of the dolls, causing it to fall.
The brunette picked it up before it crashed to the floor and, after that, many others fell.
With almost impossible juggling, the lady in black picked up each of those four dolls, having to throw herself to the floor to pick up the last one.
You and Angie looked at each other briefly at Donna's funny moves and nodded, starting to clap.
“Bravo, Donna,” you said amused, under the intense gaze of the brunette, who played with the dolls in her arms.
“That was spectacular, Don,” Angie joked, clapping at the same time as you, in a comical way.
The lady growled, but before she could protest and get up from the floor, a furry ball landed on her stomach, making her protest.
“Ow!”
Bubbles, proud of his actions, rubbed his body against the brunette's face before leaving her body.
“Gatto…” she hissed, rubbing the spot where your pet landed while you, holding back your laughter, extended a hand to help her up.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” you asked amused, helping her put her dolls away from the cat claws that surrounded them.
“I'll be fine when that… Thing…” she mumbled, alternating unpleasant murmurs with what were surely insults in Italian.
“Well, there are no victims,” you commented amused, placing a hat on one of the dolls while the lady shook her dress.
“Teach that creature some manners!” Angie protested, pointing at the cat, which was once again looking at you with curiosity. “He almost killed my friends.”
“How dramatic,” you mocked, helping the brunette regain her composure. “I'm sorry, Donna.”
“You're sorry…” she growled. “Angie is right. You should train your pet better.”
“It's a cat, I can't stop him from wanting to climb on things,” you said, glancing sideways at the animal that seemed to starting to harass Angie.
“Donna!” the doll squealed, fleeing from his timid claws. “I'm not a toy!”
“Bubbles…” you sighed, rubbing your eyes as the cat chased the doll. “Come on, be a good cat.”
Your words, which normally had no effect, seemed to stop the animal, who meowed playfully, moving away from you when the doll, tired of being chased, distracted it with one of the wool balls, his favorite toy.
“Donna, are you okay?” you asked, placing a hand on the brunette's shoulder, who seemed to be putting the clothes on those dolls. She nodded reluctantly as you pulled her towards you.
“That cat... He's going to give me a lot of trouble,” she whispered, letting herself be comforted by your caresses.
“He still has to adapt,” you defended him. “It's not easy for him.”
“You've spoiled him, that creature needs rules,” the lady snapped, moving away from you a little so your charms wouldn't dazzle her again.
“Oh, come on…” you sighed, rolling your eyes.
“My sister's cat had better manners,” she explained, crossing her arms.
“Did your sister have a cat?” you asked curiously.
Donna nodded with a frown.
“Yes,” the lady answered dryly.
You knew you couldn't insist, that her family was a dangerous subject, but you couldn't help it.
“I'm sure she spoiled it too, am I wrong?” you said with a haughty tone.
“It was on the grounds, we never let it to enter the house, my father didn't allow it,” Donna said, shaking her head. “It's where cats have to be.”
“What nonsense,” you said a bit annoyed.”-I'm sure your sister wanted it to be with her, didn't she?”
“That doesn't matter, the rules are the rules,” she said, with a tone that was darkening little by little.
“Yes, of course,” you sighed angrily, crossing your arms.
The lady didn't answer, as if she had suddenly remembered something, as if she had realized who she was talking about without meaning to. Her hand began to tremble and her eye opened as she blinked nervously.
“Oh, Donna... Donna...” you said in a different tone, observing the brunette's reaction, the trembling of her body and the erratic movements of her head. A condition that, unfortunately, you already knew. “Hey, Donna, my love...”
“Claudia!” she shrieked, furious, squeezing her head between her hands, shaking it effusively. “Claudia! È colpa mia!”
“No, no, no, no, darling, calm down...” you said nervously, putting a hand on her shoulders to reassure her, something that didn't work, as she pushed them away abruptly, kicking furiously.
“Claudia, perdonami, sorella!” Donna shrieked again, completely losing control, pulling at her hair as she growled angrily. “Claudia, tesoro!”
“Donna, no, no, hey, don't do that, stop, my love…” you said hastily, fighting against her grip. “It's okay, my love, I'm with you, it wasn't your fault.”
“Chiudi il becco!” she shouted, pushing you away furiously, with one eye shining with the madness of her soul. “È colpa mia! Mia!”
“No, darling, it's not true, it was an accident, remember?” you said in a soft voice, unable to handle that crisis.
“Look what you've done, stupid! Donna's nervous again!” Angie protested, helping you calm her owner's madness, something impossible.
“No, no, lasciami! Lasciami stare!” the lady shrieked, slowly lowering herself to the floor, crawling along it as if she was running away from something, from her own demons.
“Donna,” you said, also lowering to the floor and putting a hand on the wall so Donna wouldn't hit her head against it. “Shhh, darling, please come to your senses. Donna, my love… I'm here with you.”
“Sono una stupida… Stupida!” The mad lady kicked while the cat, apparently unaffected by the screams, approached her.
“Shit… Bubbles, not now…” you said fearfully watching how the animal approached the lady, looking at her curiously. “Go, please…”
The animal didn’t listen. He simply walked elegantly towards Donna, climbing up her body, purring strangely.
“Bubbles…”you said with a nervous look, watching as he settled on her chest with a soft meow, rubbing against her face.
Donna stood still, breathing heavily, but making no effort to push the animal away, in fact, her hand moved to the black fur, caressing it with a trembling hand.
Her breathing miraculously calmed as her hand ran along the animal’s back, which seemed not to want to leave her, rubbing affectionately against her, soothing her tormented soul.
“Wow…”you sighed, watching as Donna’s gaze stopped being erratic, as her eye returned to its usual shine.
The cat purred triumphantly, briefly licking the brunette’s face before climbing down from her body with a discreet meow.
“(Y/N)… What?” the doll maker stammered, blinking in confusion. “Gods…”
“Oh, Donna, my love… How are you feeling?” you asked, ignoring Bubbles and grabbing your girlfriend's face, looking for possible wounds or scratches.
“F-Fine, I think,” she murmured, blinking nervously and turning her head towards the cat who, with a graceful movement, climbed onto the couch to take a well-deserved nap.
“Okay, up,” you said, helping her up and running a hand over her forehead. “You're soaked, honey… I'll prepare a hot bath for you, would you like it?”
She nodded, her gaze fixed on the cat, who was licking himself disinterestedly.
Well, crisis over. You didn't expect Bubbles' help, of course, but apparently, it was one of the reasons that made the lady regain her sanity, something admirable, of course.
After the hot bath, it was time to make dinner. Donna hummed quietly in the kitchen while you, having nothing better to do, kept her company.
“You look fine,” you commented, leaning on the wooden counter. She smiled tenderly, stirring something in a small pot.
“Yes, I'm much better, thank you, (Y/N),” she whispered gratefully, focused on the kitchen, as always.
“What are you cooking?” you asked, hugging her around the waist.
Donna, after kissing you quickly, pointed with her head to a bowl with a salad.
“Do you fancy some?” she asked in a low voice. You nodded curiously, looking again at that small pot.
“Yes, of course,” you said, pointing to its contents. “Boiled chicken?”
“Yes,” Donna replied, turning off the gas.
“Well, I prefer grilled chicken for salads,” you commented, scratching the back of your neck.
Donna laughed, shaking her head.
“It's not for us, tesoro,” the lady said, picking up a clay bowl, one you already knew, one with a name engraved on it. “It's for Bubbles.”
“For Bubbles?” you asked suspiciously.
“Yes,” Donna said, nodding slightly.
“Oh...” you murmured. “Wow, it's the first time you call him by his name and not a furry thing, or a vermin, or a scratch-everything monster or...”
“I admit that I have to thank him, he's helped me a lot,” she said, sighing. “You know, before, when... I lost, I lost my temper.”
You nodded with a smile as she prepared that delicious reward lunch.
“Honestly, I didn't know he was good at it,” you commented, tilting your head.
“Me neither,” she whispered, winking at you. “But hey, I think he deserves a reward. Will you help me?”
You nodded a bit confused, but you obeyed.
“Kitty?” Donna asked with a radiant smile, looking for the feline around the house and showing the bowl with his food. “Look what I have for you.”
“Bubbles?” you called him, something that wasn't necessary, because, as soon as he heard Donna's voice, he walked quickly towards her.
“That's it... Good cat...” the lady said, bending down to run a hand over his head, something the animal thanked with a meow while purring, looking at the bowl curiously. “Do you like chicken, little one?”
“Oh, sure,” you said amused, putting your plates on the table. “He likes anything.”
The cat rubbed itself on your lover's legs while she, laughing shyly, approached you, closely followed by the hungry Bubbles, who licked his lips with pleasure.
“That's it... Good kitty, I hope you eat it all, huh?” Donna said affectionately.
You frowned and looked at Angie, who shrugged with a gesture of disgust.
“Damn manipulative beast...” the doll whispered. “Look at that…”
You obeyed, watching the affection your pet gave to the lady in black as she served him his reward, one that he gladly accepted, of course.
“Donna,” you said, drawing the attention of the brunette, who looked at the black cat with curiosity. “Are you coming to dinner or should I serve you another bowl?” you joked.
She stood up nodding, smiling at the cat and sitting in her chair.
“Is that chicken?” Angie asked, pointing at the feeder. Donna and you looked at each other and nodded. “How lucky, Your Majesty! Hey, Donna, Donna, you've never done anything like that to me!” the puppet protested, tugging at her owner's black dress.
“You don't have a stomach,” Donna murmured, elegantly serving you a glass of wine.
“No, well… But, but I've helped you more times than that furball,” the doll defended herself, looking up and down at the feline, who was licking his delicious food, looking at Angie with curiosity.
“Don't be jealous,” you joked, of course, causing an annoyed gasp from the puppet, who protested by kicking the floor.
“Jealous? Donna, I think we need to talk,” Angie said, crossing her arms while Bubbles sniffed her. “Hey, get away! Get away!”
The cat meowed curiously, licking Angie briefly, something that calmed her protests.
“Did you see that?” the doll asked. Donna smiled and looked at her, nodding. “It's adorable!”
“Wow, your mind changes quickly,” you teased, continuing with your dinner as the puppet cautiously ran a wooden hand over the cat, who rubbed himself against her, causing Angie to fall comically.
“Oh…” Angie moaned, getting up and wrapping her arms around the cat, something the animal didn't protest about, but instead meowed happily. “He loves me too.”
That was a turning point.
Miraculously, everything changed after that horrible crisis. You couldn't say why, whether it was because of Bubbles' loving altruism, or because Donna had already gotten used to his presence, but... Everything seemed different.
The lady in black seemed much less bothered by the black cat, in fact, she no longer protested every time he got on the couch, or every time he approached her to play.
You even started to get a little jealous. Yes, he was your cat, but mysteriously, he increasingly preferred the company of the lady in black, even Angie’s. It didn't bother you at all, although many times those hands that caressed you stopped doing so, moving on to your pet's black fur.
Well, of course your love continued to burn as always, only that, in addition to an irreverent doll, in your routine, there was always Bubbles, eager to receive Donna's displays of affection, as well as her delicious special meals.
You couldn't compete with a boiled chicken or desalted tuna, you just couldn't.
“Bubbles...” you said, one morning, spending your time with clay while Donna was working on her dolls in the basement.
Everything seemed normal but... There was something strange in the house, or rather, there wasn't something.
Bubbles, although dazzled by Donna, was still your faithful companion, one who stayed by your side while you worked. That day you couldn't find him and you started to worry.
“Where are you?” you asked, getting up from the lathe and looking under the chairs. Nothing, no sign of the cat. Your gaze went to the doll, which seemed distracted, wandering around the house like she always do. “Angie...”
You growled nervously.
Yes, the puppet had also gotten used to the cat, but it was a terribly jealous doll, she cared day after day to prove it to you, to remind you that you had "stolen her Donna."
She had no reason to hurt the animal, in fact you thought she had already gotten used to its presence but, deep down, you feared she had carelessly (or on purpose) let it out of the mansion.
“What do you want, silly?” the doll asked, annoyed by your interruption.
“Where is Bubbles?” you asked, crossing your arms and stamping your feet impatiently.
“Do I look like a zoo keeper? I don't know where he is,” Angie said, with the same cocky gesture as you.
“Ugh…” you protested, walking through the house. Nothing, no sign of the cat, again.
Scared that it had escaped, you started to get nervous, walking quickly towards the elevator.
“Donna, Donna,” you said hurriedly, opening the doors of the workshop.
The lady turned around a bit surprised, bringing a finger to her lips.
“Shh,” she hissed at you, making you roll your eyes.
“Hey, I know you don't like me disturbing you but…” you said in a calmer voice, walking towards her. “I can't find Bubbles. I don't know if that evil doll has something to do with it but…”
Your words faded away when the lady in black turned more, showing you a black lump that camouflaged itself with her dress. Bubbles, that traitor cat, slept peacefully on her lap, something he didn't do even with you.
“Oh, I don't believe it…” you sighed in disbelief, being reprimanded again by a brusque gesture from the lady.
“Hey, lower your voice, tesoro, you're going to wake him up…” she whispered, running her hand over the cat's head, who purred at the contact.
You blinked several times and shook your head.
“I can't believe it,” you murmured with a surprised expression. “I thought Bubbles was totally forbidden to come down here.”
“Well…” she whispered, smiling at the animal with a tender look. “He's insistent…”
“Yes, and a treacherous manipulator too,” you joked, petting him.
Donna laughed, shaking her head and showing you what she was working on.
“Look, tesoro, I'm making a little bed for him,” the lady said, proudly. “We can put it in the bedroom, what do you think?”
“What do I think?” you asked amused, bending down to kiss her cheek. “I think I love you, Donna.”
Well, at least Bubbles was now a member of the family, an important one for all of you.
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ilsole · 1 year
Text
Stupidly in Love
A flourish of ribbons fly in the air as a certain jester lays out a nifty little fabric square upon fresh grass, a clearing within a great field, the forest behind, sun in the sky, birds singing their little theatre songs.
Fool gave a synthetic breath in, before turning to his companion.
Misuta glared up at the bright skies above, before he himself turned to Fool, a slight look of confusion coming to his face.
"When you asked if we could go out together, I wasn't expecting... this."
Fool gave the man a cheshire smile.
"Why not? A beautiful day to spend with someone I hold so nice and dear to the heart?"
Misuta sat down in a huff, but Fool had noticed those flushed cheeks immediately.
"... It... is nice today, you're right."
"As I am so often~"
Fool deftly landed on his behind beside Misuta, twirling his baton in his limber hands before settling it down upon the blanket beneath.
Today, there'll be no sun nor moon, just him and the heart stealer beside him.
Oh yes...
"What's in the basket? We can't eat..."
Misuta asks a very promising question, responded to with a curved eye smile.
"Oh, my sweet man~ I'm very glad you asked!"
Fool reaches out, lugging the basket closer before popping the lid up, exposing its treasures like a trove untold.
"Books-?"
"I know how much you love reading, so, I may have sneaked a few books from our little Sweetling~"
A leer was sent the fool's way.
"You stole from them."
'Not unlike how you stole my heart', Fool was so close to saying the words on his very lips, yet he refrained, it was too soon.
"No, no, this fool would never go so low. My... what do you take me for?"
Fool had leant back, a hand to his chest in mock offense, yet he peeked open an eye to view Misuta as silence ringed between them.
Crossed arms met him, a single raised eyebrow with the most unamused expression greeted him in return.
"A thief."
"You hurt me."
"Good."
To anyone else, it'd be rude, but the two shared a coupling laughter.
Misuta would reach into the basket, pulling out the top book.
'The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe'
Misuta hummed in thought, sitting back on a palm as he flipped open the hardcover entertainment, eyes already starting to flitter over the words and read.
Fool picked up his own book, yet he knew he wouldn't be reading, for his attention was taken by another, just as intriguing, thing.
Minutes passed, a comfortable silence settling between the two, one reading, the other attempting.
Fool took in no information, his gaze glancing up to the source of his warmth and love that had spiraled way out of his control.
He wanted to reach out, hold Misuta close to him and never let go, yet there was something holding him back, he wasn't sure...
"Fool...?"
Misuta was looking up at him, why was he so close suddenly? Fool shifted an arm, realizing exactly what was going on.
In his little daydream, he had indeed gotten closer to Misuta, their bodies touching, and Fool's arm had wrapped around Misuta's back, fingers a breath away from his waist.
Fool brought his mismatch up, meeting Misuta's own fuchsia.
"I-I..."
For once, Fool was speechless, his smile drooping at the corners as a flood of nerves was thrust upon him, he's sure he'd be sweating if he could.
He was frozen in place, staring, fake heart pounding with real love, one he felt when around the man in his arms, and the precious Sweetling.
Time stilled as the two stayed in their places, like deer under a scope, they were too nervous to move.
Until Misuta's eyes flicked down.
Fool took that as a sign.
He leant in, lips pressing to Misuta's so softly, he'd have melted, and felt like he would when the pressure was returned soon enough.
Fool's book fell to his lap as he brought a hand up to caress Misuta's face, a small order to stay where he was, yet neither of them wanted to pull away, not even for a second.
They caressed each other, eyes closed as they laid in their shared embrace, an arm tightening around a waist, pulled closer.
Until, they parted, while they had no breath to lose, they still wanted to see one another.
Eyes opened, and their love filled eyes met once more, a deeper understanding now felt within the two.
"Cariad… I… Rwy'n dy garu di…"
Misuta blinked at the foreign words before a soft laugh escaped his lips, and he presses another kiss to Fool's own.
"私も愛しているよ."
A mutual agreement of love, Fool almost couldn't believe it.
He wrapped his other arm around Misuta, hoisting the man upon his awaiting lap, making sure Misuta couldn't escape his grasp now that he was finally his.
"Oh… thank the very Heavens…"
Fool whispered into Misuta's neck, a sigh escaping the man as arms wrapped around his neck.
"Fool…"
"Mm… already with the pet names?"
Misuta rolled his eyes, though his amusement was as clear as the very sky they were under.
"Idiot."
"So mean to me…~ How could you be so rude to your boyfriend~"
They both stilled at that, realization dawning on each of their faces. Boyfriend.
They… are together.
They're in love.
A fluffy hood buried itself into Fool's chest, a heat being felt through Fool's flowy shirt.
"バカ…バカ…バカ…バカ…"
Fool laughed his sweet bird song laugh, his arms bringing Misuta closer to him even still, offering comfort to the flustered man.
"Mm… your stupid."
Stupidly in love.
For @venomous-qwille's gorgeous au Ghost in the Machien that hosts the best characters I've seen written in fiction and have my heart in a death grip <3
327 notes · View notes
spaceorphan18 · 4 months
Text
X-Men Fic (Rogue/Gambit) : Toys
A/N: Yes, this was inspired by that clip that's been going around of Gambit's VA for XM97 playing with action figures. I cannot believe this is what I'm writing for my first real fic for this fandom. Dear lord, forgive me for the shenanigans... also, unbeta'd. I just wanted to get it out into the world and be done with it.
I'll post this tomorrow on Ao3
Rated: T for suggestiveness
Summary: Rogue catches Remy playing with toy action figures of the X-Men. Shenanigans. Set in the 616 comic verse, but some fun meta-y references to XM97
****
Toys
Upon arriving home, Rogue comes in through the open kitchen window because why bother with stairs when you can fly? It’s been a long day, a long week, a long life… All she wants to do is curl up on the couch with the cats and a trashy book and hopefully Remy’s home so she can get a back massage.  Hell, forget the book, she’ll gamble for the massage first.  Save the trashy for later.  
She grins, thinking about her husband’s warm hands on her skin.  
Remy is, indeed, home; standing at the kitchen island, his back turned towards the window, so engrossed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t hear her come in.  And what he’s doing takes her by surprise.  
The kitchen counter is covered in half open boxes, plastic containers, cardboard, and little zip ties.  There are a good, half-dozen or so action figures all lined up in a semicircle; each one of them a well detailed, classically designed replica of, well… the X-Men.  Oh, dear god, what did she walk into? 
“I’ll take ya down in one slice, bub,” Remy says, holding the Wolverine figurine in one hand, his voice low as he attempts Logan’s gruff voice.  Remy LeBeau is good at a lot of things, Rogue would be first to give you a list, but doing impressions is not one of them.  She bites her lip, fascinated to see how this plays out.  Remy grabs the Magento figurine as his voice shifts to imitate Erik.  “You incels!” Remy screams; loud, exaggerated, and carefully enunciated.  “How dare you try to take down me; the questionably dressed, ego too big for my helmet, Master of Magnetism?” 
Rogue puts a hand up to her lips, holding back an amused snort.  Oh, Remy… 
Remy loses the impression as he lunges the Wolverine figurine at the Magneto one.  The Magneto one floats away.  “You fools! Don’ you remember I control the metal?”  Shaking the Wolverine figurine violently, Remy lets out a feral scream and the figure is flung to the side, landing with a clatter in the sink.  
Magneto is discarded for a moment as Remy picks up the Scott and Jean figurines.  Scott has his hand to his visor while Jean has both her hands on the sides of her head.  “Jean! I seem to have made a tactical error,” Remy cries in Scott’s no-nonsense voice.  His voice then slides higher as he mimics Jean.  “Scott, my telepathy.  It out o’ whack!  Oh, Scott!... Jean!… SCOTT!.... JEAN!!”
Rogue is dying inside.  She holds herself tightly, trying as hard as she can not to burst out laughing.  
Scott and Jean are shuffled into one hand as Remy picks up the Magneto figurine again.  “Enough of this!” Remy says, back in the Magneto voice.  He then lets out another dramatic scream as he tosses the Scott and Jean figurines onto the pile of boxes, scaring Oliver, who had been inspecting one of the twist ties.  
He picks up the Storm figurine next, raising her arms to the ceiling.  “An’ now you deal with Stormy, who will smite you with her lightning blasts.” He jolts the Storm hands into Magneto, making little sound effect lightning blasts as he does so.  “Fool, I am impervious to lightning…  How dat possible? Lightning an’ magnetism are not the same thing!... I can control static electricity!... Dat…still don’ make any sense!... Begone, weather witch!”  
Rogue has tears in her eyes. She’s biting her lip so hard, it’s beginning to hurt.  Thankfully, Remy is so lost in his make believe world that he can’t hear her snickering.  
The Storm figurine is placed gently face down on the counter as Remy picks up the Gambit figurine.  Rogue’s eyes grow wide, intensely waiting to see how this will play out… 
“Ohh, you goin’ down now, mon ami,” Remy’s voice grows low and serious.  He starts making explosion sound effects, as if the Gambit figurine is throwing little playing cards at the Magneto one.  Remy then throws his head back in a villainous laugh as he goes back to the Magneto voice.  “You seriously think a few mild explosions could ever touch me?”  
Remy stops, and grins that cocky, beautiful grin of his.  “Non, but it enough to keep you distracted.”  He starts turning the Magneto figurine around, as if it’s confused.  “See, I always gotta ace up my sleeve.”  
In a quick second, he drops the Gambit figurine, and grabs the Rogue one.  Her arm is out, one leg up, poised to fly.  Remy slams the fist of the Rogue figurine into the Magneto one’s head.  “Howdy, sugah.” 
Rogue tilts her head, amused.  Remy’s imitation of her own voice is so comically off, and yet incredibly endearing.  
“How ‘bout you leave my family alone!” The Rogue figurine crashes into the Magneto one again.  This time, Remy charges the Magneto figurine, causing it to glow purple.  He tosses the charged Magneto figurine up, letting it explode in mid-air with a bang.  The charred remains drop to the counter with a clang before it bounces into the trash next to the counter.  
Remy then picks up the Gambit figurine and brings it in close to the Rogue one.  “Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are when you’re punching people, chere?...Why don’t you shut up and kiss me, Remy…” Remy starts clicking the faces of the two figurines together, making little kiss-y noises and ‘mwa’ sounds as the action figures ‘make out’.  
Rogue grins wildly, expecting nothing less.  She crosses her arms across her chest, casually walking forward to let her presence be known. “Whatcha doing, sugah?” 
Remy gives a startled jump, the figurines dropping out of his hand with a clatter.  He’s not the least bit sorry he’s been caught, however, a devilish grin quickly sliding onto his lips.  “Jus’ havin’ a bit of fun testing some of these toys that show sent us.”  Rogue picks the destroyed Magneto figurine out of the trash.  “Some of dem defective,” he says slyly. 
“Defective huh?” She drops the figurine unceremoniously back into the trash and comes in close, wrapping her arms around his neck.  She knows the show is a sore spot, no matter how much free merch they’ve gotten from it lately.   “You still salty about all that?”
He lets out a grumble, but still wraps himself around her, just the way she likes.  “Don’ act like you wouldn’t be, too, if they killed you off like dat.   Middle of the first season, too.  What’d I do to deserve dat?” 
“They just knew you were the best one.” She runs her fingers through his hair.  “Who else gonna go out in a fiery blaze of heroism like that?” 
He smirks, though she can still see a hint of sadness in his eyes.  “It was pretty epic, non?” 
“The best…”  She draws him in for a kiss, sweet and gentle and comforting.  “Forget that show, Remy.  That ain’t our life.  This is.” She kisses him again, a little bit harder, grounding herself in his embrace.  He had tortured himself wanting to keep watching that show, but she couldn’t.  She wouldn’t.  She didn’t want to imagine herself going down a path she would never recover from.  “Besides…” she says, trying to keep it light.  “I’m sure season two will have me pulling your pretty ass back from the dead one way or the other.  And if it doesn’t, you best bet I’ll get those writers fired and write it myself.”  
“I ever tell you how sexy you are when pulling me back from the dead?” 
“Shut up and kiss me, Remy.”  He does and they do.  Forget the massage tonight, they’re going straight to the trashy.  She’s hungry to feel him everywhere tonight.  
They break apart once again, breathing heavily as Rogue leans her forehead against his.  “Hey, Remy?” 
“Oui?” 
“Why don’t we leave this mess for later and go play with some of the toys we’ve already got.”
He laughs into another kiss.  “You always have de best ideas, chere…” 
****
Later… 
In the stillness of the night, long after Remy’s fallen asleep, Rogue gets up for a glass of water.  
The kitchen is how they left it hours ago, a mess of trash and action figures scattered around the room.  The cats had gotten into some of it.  Poor Scott had fallen to the ground.  She picks him up, placing him next to Jean, giving him a little pat as she does so.  
She wants to ignore the others.  Wants to ignore the strange sensation it is to have your likeness in toy form.  Still, she’s drawn to the little action figure her. She picks it up, inspecting it.  It’s her old green and yellow uniform, one she hasn’t worn in years. She doesn’t even know where it is, probably having been trashed in some long ago fight.  Unsurprisingly, the boobs are a little too big, the waist a little too small, and the hair a bit ridiculous.  But it’s oddly still her.  A little version her.  
She looks down to the Gambit figurine and smiles.  The trench coat, the staff, the ridiculously abbed pink breast plate.  The cocky little grin.  They got his likeness perfectly.  And yet it doesn’t even hold a candle to the real thing.  
“Love ya, Remy,” she says softly, as she takes the Rogue figurine and gives the Gambit figurine a kiss with it.  She laughs at her own silliness, but still takes a moment to place the figurines together, resting against each other, as they should be.  
She grabs her water and turns off the light and heads back to the bedroom, where she’ll soon curl up against her husband and fall asleep.  
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mysteryshoptls · 11 months
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SSR Jade Leech - Platinum Jacket Vignette
"Happy 100th Anniversary"
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[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Jade: I see this art museum not only has many art pieces depicting tales from the surface, but also from under the sea.
Jade: I suppose this may mean that just as there are merfolk fascinated by land, those on the surface may have garnered interest in the ocean as well… Oh?
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???: These are the two moray eels that served the Sea Witch. And yet, their expressions…
Jade: I believe they look quite kind and gentlemanly. Do you not agree, Riddle-san?
Riddle: …Oh Jade, it's you. Unfortunately, I have to disagree with your opinion there. That's because…
Riddle: In this painting their grins look as though they are plotting something untoward, not unlike how you and Floyd tend to look.
Jade: Oh my, for you to say we resemble the great Sea Witch's subordinates like that… Fufufu, I am honored.
Riddle: That wasn't a compliment. However, it's true that their numerous benevolent acts have been passed down through history.
Riddle: I'm sure I'm only mistakenly seeing them as sinister, but in reality, they are kind moray eels, just as you say.
Jade: Indeed. I'm elated that not only are the tales of the Sea Witch widely known on land, but also that of her eels.
Jade: Back home, there is a very popular folktale in which those moray eels present a challenge to a mermaid who had fallen in love with someone of a different species.
Riddle: Oh that's… Are you talking about the mermaid who made a contract with the Sea Witch in order to be with the human she had fallen in love with?
Jade: That's right. The incident where they flipped the boat that the mermaid and her beloved were sitting in in order to test their love is a particularly popular tale…
Jade: It is said that their bond was strengthened thanks to the quick thinking of those moray eels.
Riddle: If I recall correctly, that mermaid's contract with the Sea Witch was conditioned on blossoming that love from her own efforts…
Jade: That is true. And yet, they continued to monitor her after she made the contract, and even provide generous support… They truly are most benevolent.
Jade: Now, speaking of boats…
Jade: Do you know of a strangely shaped boat, one that is completely different than the small rowing boat in this tale?
Riddle: Strangely shaped?
Jade: Indeed. For example… Think of a boat shaped like a bird that is rowed by pedaling your feet.
Riddle: Ah, you mean the swan boats.
Jade: Yes, that's it. Whenever I would poke my head out of the ocean, I would see many boats that were rowed with oars, and yet…
Jade: I had never seen one quite shaped like that, ever. I was quite shocked the first time I came across one. It is rather unique.
Riddle: If you like unusual boats like that, the Queendom of Roses have some in the shape of flamingos.
Jade: Is that so? I would like to ride one of those one day, as well.
Riddle: …As well? Are you saying that you've ridden on one of those swan boats with Azul, or Floyd…?
Jade: No, I rode alone.
Riddle: EH, YOU RODE ONE OF THOSE BOATS ALONE!?
Jade: Yes. It was too narrow for my legs to sit comfortably on one side, so I had to pedal the boat with one foot on what would normally be each person's pedal.
Jade: That was truly a fickle vehicle to maneuver. I had enough trouble trying to steer in the direction I wanted…
Jade: While I was riding it, that aforementioned anecdote of the boat and the moray eels came to mind.
Jade: I thought to myself… If somehow there was some creature bent on capsizing this boat, it could be quite the ordeal.
Jade: Have you ever ridden a swan boat, Riddle-san?
Riddle: No, can't say I have…
Jade: Well, that is a pity. It is very enjoyable, so I fully encourage you to experience it. We can ride together sometime.
Riddle: How could you possibly believe that I'd agree to do so after all we talked about just now…? I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be some other creature capsizing us, it would be you.
Jade: I would never. And even if we were to encounter trouble and capsize, it would be quite easy for me to swim us to shore. Fufu… Does that not help you feel safer?
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[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
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Jade: This is a painting depicting the myth of the child of a god who aspired to be a hero alongside his friends.
Jade: It is said that he trained his mind and body in order to become a hero. Perhaps this specifically depicts a scene from one of his training sessions.
Riddle: It seems so. From the look on his face, his training must have been going well.
Jade: I remember back while I was learning self-defense, I was also just as elated as he was in his painting whenever I perfectly executed a specific technique.
Riddle: Oh, so you know self-defense.
Jade: That's right. My father taught me.
Jade: He also taught me how to free myself if tied up and pick locks if I am locked up.
Riddle: EH!? Why would your father teach a child such things…?
Jade: Simply put, my parents are overcautious. After all, they do say "providing is preventing," right?
Jade: In fact, it is because of my self-defense training, that I've been able to avoid many an incident.
Riddle: Incidents in which your self-defense training was useful? That seems somewhat disturbing.
Jade: I wouldn't say that… Back in the ocean, there were a few sharks that had refused to honor their promises.
Jade: As I was entreating them to fulfill their duty, they all decided to bilk their promise altogether.
Riddle: That is absolutely unacceptable. If they have broken their promises, they should pay the price.
Jade: Yes, I thought the exact same. THAT IS WHY I USED MY SELF-DEFENSE SKILLS AND TURNED THE TABLES ON THEM.
Jade: Even though it was the result of their own actions, I couldn't help but feel some semblance of pity for them as they screamed every time I twisted their fins.
Riddle: I'm having a hard time believing this… I fully assumed that that kind of dangerous task would be more Floyd's specialty.
Jade: That was just an unusual case. I am usually reluctant to resort to such tactics.
Jade: When resolving issues, it is best to come to an amicable conclusion via communication, not fists.
Jade: However, that does not mean that there will never be a time in which those self-defense techniques will need to be used on the surface.
Jade: Here on land, it would be impossible to use any technique that requires the use of my tailfin. My human body still lacks the right experience.
Jade: I am hoping to strengthen my skills in order to be as proficient in my self-defense techniques on land in this body as I am in the ocean.
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[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
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Riddle: This is a painting of the Fairest Queen of All. In the background, we can see her peacock feathered throne.
Jade: Indeed. It looks as if the Queen is majestically spreading her own wings… What spectacular composition.
Jade: Moreover, that box she is holding up so delicately…  It draws my eyes with how vividly crimson it is.
Riddle: Seeing that it has a lock on it, it may be her treasure box.
Jade: A treasure box, hm. I remember I used to stuff as much as I could in a big, beautiful box of my own when I was younger.
Jade: At one point, I had collected so many various accessories that humans had dropped into the ocean, that I wasn't even able to close the lid.
Jade: I would take strolls every day just to search for possible trinkets, at times going to places so far out a round trip would take me a whole day.
Jade: Once in a while, if I came across any coins, I would give them to Azul… Fufu, that brings back memories.
Riddle: When you say accessories, you mean rings, or necklaces, yes? I'm surprised that you were interested in such jewelry.
Jade: I suppose so. I don't often choose to wear accessories as much anymore.
Jade: Although, I do recall collecting a few hundred pieces…
Riddle: A few hundred!? If you had collected that much, then I'm sure there would be some that still suit your tastes now…
Jade: Perhaps. However, I have since disposed of all those accessories I collected back then.
Riddle: Disposed all of them…? Even though you had so fervently collected them?
Jade: Correct. Keeping things that no longer interest you is simply a waste of space, wouldn't you say?
Jade: Ah yes, actually, there was something that caught my attention when I came to the surface, as well.
Jade: It is nothing unusual, and in fact can be found pretty much anywhere on land…
Jade: Once I took note of them, I could really feel the intention behind those that made them, as well as their various designs. It is profoundly fascinating.
Riddle: Hmmm, nothing comes to mind. What is it that caught your attention that much?
Jade: Fufu, well, that would be… manhole lids.
Riddle: Huh, manhole lids!?
Jade: Some lids are designed to show off local specialties or attractions.
Jade: Of course, there are no manholes in the ocean. So my interest was piqued as I was searching up on what use they could possibly serve…
Jade: For a little while, I did find myself collecting a few hundred various merchandise of manhole lids with unusual designs, as well.
Riddle: So, regardless of whether it's accessories, or manholes… I see you get truly invested when you decide you like something.
Jade: Indeed. Once I've taken a liking to something, I seem to be the type that becomes completely absorbed by it.
Jade: However, I will say that those investments don't last too long.
Jade: In fact, my fixation has shifted from manhole lids to mountains already.
Riddle: It's good to find something to be invested in, but remember that a student's duty is his studies. Regulate your time with your hobbies so as to not neglect that.
Riddle: Well then, I will be heading to view paintings of the Queen of Hearts, so, farewell.
Jade: Right, see you later. …Well, now that Riddle-san has left me, I wonder what painting I should look at now… Hm?
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Jade: Is this a painting of a shrimp…? No, a crab. How wonderful, he looks so terribly elated.
Jade: It's usually these sorts of folk who would be in need of reprimand for not paying the price after signing their contracts. Fufu…
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squiddy-god · 3 months
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Groom of the deep sea
(ghost Azul x reader)
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Re-uploading from terminated blog squid-god-supreme! This is my new blog after tumbler decided I was no long passing the vibe check for unknown reasons- this was a request of a sort of ghost groom azul.
CW : kidnapping, ghost azul, implied drowning, this is really short I should make a longer one tbh, reader is called bride
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The warm salt air was only cooled down by the gentle breeze sweeping across the docks and licking the waves of the water below. Fingers running across the warped wood at the end of the old wooden docks you stared at the water that looked so inviting. 
Ghostly pale and ashen skin like sea sand, a face appeared in the dark Water like it was beckoning you to follow. Cool sea water wets the pads of your fingers and your palm as it descends. 
"Y/n! Hey there!" An older woman calls out to you. You reel back, drying your hand on your pants before scrambling to get up. "Ah! Miss monty, I didn't expect to see you here at the docks-" you chuckled lightly. "Well Deary I saw you over the water like you were about to fall in" she says before her smile falls. "These Waters are haunted, they say, the spirit of the sea witch, don't go chasing faces in the Water now!" You're Sure she meant that last part as a joke but if only she knew. 
Deep below the sea, in a cave lit by glowing flowers and algae, luminescent blues and deep purple hues making shadows on the sea creatures face. Inky black limbs that held a purple hue as they sat in the sand and pad of large sea plants. 
Blue grey eyes gazed with longing at his ashen hand, touch still lingering against the pads of his fingers. "Jade, floyd '' he called and as if waiting, the two eels swam out from the dark corners of the inky black cave. "Yes Azul?"  Floyd answers. "The human, the one who almost jumped into the sea with me- the way their touch felt- like I was alive" he mused, eyes turning to the eels at his side. "Get them"  With that the eels were off. 
"Say, you wouldn't happen to be who we're looking for? Hmm shrimp? " the tall man asked. You took in his odd appearance from where you sat, his teal green hair and sharp, striking grin that seemed almost unnaturally wide. Most striking However was his Mitch matched eyes that seemed to lull you into a trance, "I believe they are indeed azuls bride" another tall man, the same appearance but flipped, said beside you. "B-bride-" you began but soon they were already off the docks, hitting the water without a single splash. "Yeah yeah shrimpy~ " the one called Floyd started "you see our boss has been quite lonely without you" the other continued. "What- wait wait, what do you mean without me-" a sour look seemed to pass over the two men in the Water, they swam closer without a ripple. "Hmmm, doesn't shrimpy remember? " Floyd tilted his head. "To be expected, but I'm sure in time they will want to pick up right where they left off" 
And with that your wrists were grabbed by ice cold and slimy hands, your body hitting the Water was the only warmth that hit your body after chills ran down your spine. 
All lights faded to black as your lungs burned and your fate was sealed.
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
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💚
pairing: aemond targaryen x modern!wife!reader
prompt: 💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed
jla masterlist
His boy tugs at his arm, speaking through his many high-pitched giggles. "Come! Come! You have to wake up mommy, daddy!"
"I do?"
"Yes! You're the only one that can do it!"
Aemond raises an eyebrow at that. "And how might I do that, Aemion?" His sweet wife lays on the couch, sleeping in a peaceful dream. Or, at least, he hopes she is. She's been cursed to slumber for a thousand long and cruel years, according to their son.
He sits beside her, listening to her soft breathing and watching her breasts rise and fall, with two small hands crossed atop them.
"True love's kiss, daddy!"
True love's kiss. Aemond glances up at little Aemion, who- in his sheer excitement- climbed up onto the couch's arm. "What makes you believe I can wake this absolutely exquisite princess from such an evil witch's curse?"
Aemion laughs again, rocking his tiny shoulders back and forth. "Because you're mommy's true love! In all the stories mommy reads me, the handsome prince always kisses the princess awake! And then they live happily ever after."
Aemond nods. "I see." He leans to caress his wife's cheek, twirling a hair strand around his finger. "Well, I suppose I could give it a try....anything for this beautiful girl."
He hovers over her sleeping body, pressing his lips against hers in a tender kiss. Aemion squeals in the back, dancing around the living room. "Wake up, my sleeping beauty," Aemond murmurs.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
A few seconds later, his wife's eyelashes flutter, and she then gazes up at him with gorgeous, starry eyes. "You've saved me," she whispers, donning her warm smile once again, "-you've saved me, my handsome prince."
Aemond chuckles, sliding his hands up her back to help her sit up. "Well, at least I know for sure that I'm indeed your true love."
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thewertsearch · 11 months
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Damn, I never noticed these parallels!
It's honestly hard to tell whether they're due to the character's Title, though. Most of these characteristics aren't really unique to the Class they're assigned to here, with one exception.
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Yes, the two Knights grew up vigilant - but Vriska's childhood made her jumpy, too, and Jade was explicitly encouraged by her grandfather to be on guard. Plus, all Alternian trolls need to be ready to fight - their planet has a million ways to kill them, from highbloods to FLARPers to cullings to undead.
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It's true that Rose never understood her mother, but her peers aren't any better. Dave's still half-convinced the puppet porn is ironic, and John spent his entire life believing his father was a circus clown. Evidently, there's not a lot of straightforward communication going on in any of these families.
Both Witches have a duty they've long been aware of - but so have Kanaya and Aradia. However, there might indeed be something to what you said about their Guardians.
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It's hard to dispute that Jade and Feferi have the strangest custodians in their respective parties - two eldritch monsters with unclear motivations and world-ending capabilities.
I've never had much luck analyzing the Witches, but maybe I should start with their unusual familiars. Perhaps the Witch is Sburb's answer to a Druid or Ranger - a class designed to interface with the natural environment and its inhabitants.
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You run your whole palace as a sort of WILDLIFE ADOPTION FACILITY, even if the wildlife's need for care is dubious at best, and the practice really just amounts to an elaborate ROLE PLAYING SCENARIO.
If you squint, it certainly seems to fit. Jade's furaffinity for nature is well-documented, and Feferi's most valuable contribution to the party is the alliance she's formed with an alien species.
The main issue is that, again, these aren't the only characters with an affinity for the natural world, so I'd need to see a lot more evidence before I'm 100% sold on this take. We'll see if it holds up, going forward.
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