#a hidden gem indeed
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Anna Torv in the AACTA Portrait Studio - Hidden Gems [x]
#Anna Torv#a hidden gem indeed#winner of best lead actress & best ninja#i hope she never changes ❤️#AACTA 2024#aacta awards
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Love In An Elevator
Jo Hyewon (Zoa) x Male Reader
Tags: big tits, DSLs, elevator sex, facefucking, facial, fast-paced blowjob, first date, girlfriend, high-intensity sex, jerking off, long legs, pussy eating, restaurant, (lots of) riding, (lots of) spitting, teen, titfucking, visual
Word count: 4924
Zoa is a hidden gem. Her visuals are stunning. Beautiful deer-esque face, long legs, big and ripe boobs—she's got everything. You couldn't believe it when she accepted your proposal to date her. There might be idols who are more famous than her, but to you, she was the prettiest, without question.
You took Zoa to your favorite top-rated restaurant on your first date, wanting to impress her. Zoa gushed at your proposal, feeling really lucky she got to have a boyfriend who would take her to the best places and enjoy experiences she thought she never would.
When Zoa was eating, you couldn't stop staring at her; she was just so stunningly beautiful that she demanded all of your attention at all times. But one part of her body caught your attention the most: her big and ripe boobs under her white shirt, which made it very easy for you to see. Zoa may be just an 18-year-old teenager, but her mature personality also shows off in her sexy body, with her already having the features of a fully grown adult woman. And to you, none were more noticeable than her tits.
"Let's share this moment," Zoa said, running towards the restaurant's elevator to take a picture of herself. After she was done, she sent you the selfie. You were disappointed you couldn't see her striking face, covered by her phone, but the other parts of her body looked better than ever, as you drooled over how her navel was popping out just above her jeans and how long her legs were as she took a full-body shot at the elevator. You still couldn't believe this girl was your girlfriend; she just looks so pretty. You, for sure, would go to all lengths for her. Zoa is really that girl.
After you paid both their restaurant bills, you two entered the elevator, where she had just shared her picture, and left the restaurant. "What did you think of today's date, Zoa?" you asked her. "It was really great; I feel so overwhelmed by the way you were so kind to me and treated me like a princess," she replied. "Well, you are indeed a princess and the most beautiful woman in the whole world," you complimented her.
The elevator door closed as the machine started to go up, and you two continued to chat. The way Zoa laughed caught your attention the most; she truly had the cutest laugh you had ever heard. However, the happy mood between both of you was about to change in a hurry, as the elevator lights started to falter and suddenly the machine came to a halt.
"I'm scared," Zoa told you, as the elevator was now stuck and only the emergency lights were working. "Don't be; we'll be out of here soon," you said, trying to calm her. "I hope so; I don't like being trapped with nowhere to go," Zoa said. "I'll make sure this will go by quickly," you told her.
Easier said than done; you guys had been trapped for a while in the elevator after you said those words. The once calm and collected Zoa was starting to lose her cool, and you were running out of ways to keep your girlfriend calm. The hugs and kisses you gave her just didn't work anymore, and you could see the first tears forming in her eyes. You needed something better.
"It's getting really hot inside here; I'm starting to have a panic attack," Zoa told you. These words set your alarm bell off. You had to act quickly. At the same time, Zoa looked hotter than ever in that white shirt and jeans. But if she was feeling so much heat, you had found a solution to cool her down.
You took Zoa's jeans off, leading her at first to instantly react and cover her beautiful legs. "What are you doing, baby?" she asked. "You said it was getting too hot, so I'm helping you," you told her as you also started taking your shirt off. Zoa provided a helpful hand, and soon you were naked from the torso up while she was from her legs down.
You kept advancing on Zoa's tall, sexy body, aiming next at the spot that had taken most of your attention at the restaurant: her big and still-growing tits, sucking the area around them with her clothes still on. Meanwhile, you reached into her lower backside, running your hands all over her ass and taking her panties off. Your bulging erection under your pants was already touching the entrance of her pussy, making her moan for the first time.
More kisses ensued before you lifted Zoa's shirt slightly up, unveling her sexy belly button as you started fingering your hands all over her young pussy. With just a couple fingers inside, you were impressed by how warm and tight her hole was. You two kept kissing each other as you kept running your left hand in her legs and pussy, while she placed her right hand straight at your already throbbing boner.
Zoa increased her soft and angelic moans as you inserted a third finger in her vagina, getting louder as you started going up and down her tight pussy with them. Her legs closed around them, and she started sweating a little before you took them off her hole.
Next, you took Zoa's white shirt off, with her already unhooking her bra for you to get easier access to her big, young tits. Zoa may be the one called the giant baby, but you were the one acting like a baby, sucking her milkers in a way you had never done to your mother's. You had never seen such firm and ripe boobs like hers; truly, there isn't a single part of Zoa's body that isn't visually striking.
You kept bombarding Zoa's right boob with suckings and kisses while running your hands all over her left tit before pinning her against the elevator wall and groping both of them, leading to her giving you the biggest smile since you two had started dating. Zoa was now completely naked and submissive to you; her natural body was beautiful from head to toe, with no flaws whatsoever.
As Zoa's nipples got erect from your stimulation, you moved down her hot body, exploiting other areas. At first, you sucked the bottom of her boobs before giving a long lick between them, starting all the way down her navel and going all the way up her chest. You repeated this move multiple times, each time getting longer until you licked her from her pussy up to her mouth. Zoa being roughly the same height as you helped a lot, as once you were finished, you just needed to go down a little bit to suck her perky tits once more.
You go on your knees as Zoa spreads her left leg and her toe on the opposite wall of the elevator, while her hands hold the support with all her might as you start eating her out. After your fingers, it's your tongue that gets to know how warm Zoa's pussy is, with her enjoying every second of it as her moans get more and more frequent.
You run your tongue all over Zoa's pink teen pussy, exploiting her folds to the fullest. You start wondering which lips are better, the ones in her mouth or the ones between her legs, as you worship her pussy and move your tongue faster and faster over it. Zoa gets overwhelmed by the speed at which you eat her folds out, turning herself into a moaning machine as you keep going on.
You start making different moves all over Zoa's pussy, kissing it and spitting on it as well. But as she gets wetter inside, your urge to fuck her pussy grows. But first, you go back to do so with your fingers, making her squirt her teen juices all over them. "Oh Shit," Zoa curses and finally says something. As you simultaneously tongue her clit while penetrating her, her moans get louder, and she almost loses her balance. Sensing she is getting wetter and warmer, you increase the pace of your finger-fucking, pushing your beautiful girlfriend to the limit.
"Fuck. AHHHHH!" Zoa screams as you go full-speed with both your hands and mouth. Her pink pussy had never been stimulated like this before, as she has to use all her strength in that confined space she finds herself in not to fall down. But you don't stop, twisting your fingers inside Zoa's pussy and keeping an eye out for different angles to attack her warm hole before pulling out and going all-in with your mouth as you grab her legs and pin her down even further against the elevator wall.
You reach for Zoa's left boob as you keep eating her out. Her soft milkers are perfect for getting groped and honked hard, and her nipples are harder than ever. "Please, please," Zoa begs as you show no signs of slowing down, worshipping her hot body and especially her warm pussy.
"Yes, oh fuck," Zoa says as you move your fingers back inside her pussy, which is now a dripping wet mess. "Yes, keep going," she continues as she closes her eyes, her athletic figure trembling as you put her close to cum with just your hands and mouth. "Oh my God, shit" she continues as you finger-fuck her faster than ever, panting and moaning and grabbing her boobs, just trying to survive your early attacks.
You kiss and worship Zoa's perfect pussy, now also fondling her tits at the same time, paying extra attention to her nipples as you touch them nonstop. You then attack her clit with your tongue, challenging Zoa to stay with her leg up as you see her body shaking harder than ever. Zoa tries not to lose her breath, her body aching with pleasure at each tonguing you give her. But she can't last for long, as you go back with all your four fingers inside her, twisting them all over her pussy and finally making her cum for good.
As Zoa releases her juices out of her pussy, you worship it with tons of kisses, then move up her body to lick her fit belly, giving special attention to her navel. As you fully get up to kiss her and grope her big tits, Zoa starts unhooking your belt and taking more initiative, quickly unleashing your big cock out of your pants.
Zoa gets on her knees and furiously sucks your dick. You can tell she's not that experienced, going very aggressive on your shaft and popping it in and out of her mouth. But that's not important to you, as her mouth is even warmer than her pussy and watching that doe-eyed deer with those amazing dick sucking lips work on that prick is extremely hot. Zoa keeps licking your shaft and sucking your tip hard, her lips fully wrapped around your pole as her head starts bobbing. "Keep sucking it, keep sucking it," you tell her as she looks up and gives you a naughty stare and jerks your shaft, driving you insane with her speed. She puts just the tip inside her mouth, but that's enough to send shivers down your spine.
Zoa gets sloppier and bobs her head deeper against your cock. "Oh yes." You approve of her blowjob skills just as she gags and opens her big eyes, spitting on that dick shortly after. Her fast-paced work on your cock continues as she jerks it off frenetically before using her mouth to warm your shaft up, bobbing hard as one of her hands grabs your thighs and the other grabs your balls.
As Zoa gags on your cock, a string of saliva connects her DSLs to your throbbing tip. Your relief is short as she goes back to attack, doing to your cock what you did to her pussy: licking, sucking, throating, spitting, and using every move she knows. It's even better when she does all that with her big eyes wide open, staring at you, as you can watch her sexy empressions while sucking you off.
You can't resist for long, grabbing Zoa's head to start fucking her face as your cock rips through her DSLs, tying her hair up with your own hands to see more of her beautiful face gagging on that dick and her doe eyes rolling out of pleasure. As soon as Zoa coughs on your cock, you rattle it inside her mouth, hitting her warm walls left and right before she finally pulls out of it and gives a massive spit on your shaft, going back right after as you grab her hair and dunk her face against your balls multiple times, teaching her not to be such an aggressive cock-sucking whore as you spit in her mouth right after.
Zoa makes a mess out of your cock as the facefucking continues, her chin full of saliva that drips out of her mouth as she gets sloppier and sloppier and turns your dick into a wet mess of spit. Now it's your turn to get aggressive, as you grab her head hard and thrust inside her mouth as if you were pounding her pussy full speed, moving your hips at a fast pace as you place your right foot right at the elevator wall, and splitting her dick sucking lips open with no room for any air to enter her mouth.
After rattling your cock inside her mouth once more, you kiss Zoa passionately, tasting her sloppy and cock-flavored mouth to the fullest. Zoa kept jerking you off as you were doing it, and as soon as you pulled out of her mouth, she got back into her aggressive cock-sucking, trying to prove to you she could be your cute-looking, slutty girlfriend. "Holy shit," you said as Zoa engulfed your balls and took your cock full length in her mouth for a few seconds before her lack of experience did her in and made her gag and get out of breath. And every time she pulled out of your cock, she spat on it, quickly turning it into her signature move.
Zoa kept bobbing hard on your cock and filling it full of saliva. You couldn't complain, as you weren't going to need any lube to enter her tight, warm pussy soon after, just letting her do it as she pleased and getting your cock wet and sloppy. "Bad girl," you said as you got back to fuck her face, and once she gagged, you gave it a lot of slapping with your dick, showing her who was the real boss. "You really like to spit on that cock, don't you, you tall young whore?" you asked her, noticing how often she did it.
As Zoa got up, still jerking your cock off, you spat in her mouth. "You are getting too slutty for my liking," you poke at her, even though you really enjoyed it. "Now turn around," you say as you pin her against the elevator wall. Zoa knows what's coming, lifting her long left leg once again and placing her left foot and right hand on the elevator's handrail. In just a couple seconds, your wet cock easily slides inside her tight teen pussy. "Oh fuck, oh shit" Zoa says as she feels your shaft penetrating her.
Knowing she had already shown how much of a whore she is, you give Zoa no room to breathe, attacking her tight pussy hard from the start and kissing her as you pump her warm hole. "Ah, ah, ah, ah," Zoa softly moans as you turn her into your cocksleeve, fingering herself to get that extra pleasure, now holding both hands against the handrail to take the pounding you are giving her. "FUCK!" she screams as her cheeks start to clap and you grab her tiny waist for a better grip, manhandling her pussy full speed. "SHIT," she keeps screaming as you get addicted to her pussy and can't stop fucking her hard. Even though her insides are perfect, Zoa is truly a flawless woman, the daughter of Venus, the goddess of love.
Zoa has a hard time staying up in just one foot; you fuck her so hard she has to cling onto every support of the elevator, which itself starts to swing a little with the force of your rough poundings on her. "Yes, oh yes, oh yes," she says as you spank her ass and show no signs of slowing down. You had never fucked a girl on your first date, and the thought of fucking her in such an unconventional space turned you on a lot.
"Shit, you're fucking me so hard; don't stop," Zoa told you. And no, you were not going to stop. If it depended on you, that elevator would never go back to work again, and you'd just fuck Zoa to eternity. As you start groping her tits and add extra stimulation, Zoa spreads her cheeks to ease the pressure on her already tightening walls that you kept shaping to the format of your cock.
Zoa's left leg finally gives in as she places it back on the ground, giving you a better angle to grab her butt and hold it as you keep fucking her, now in a standing doggy position that made her look so submissive and slutty, as her vocabulary got reduced to just three words: fuck, shit, and yes.
You kept spreading Zoa's ass cheeks and pumping her warm pussy hard while also grabbing her hair and making those cheeks clap at each thrust, discovering how quickly a teen pussy can turn into an addiction that can make even the calmest men turn into raging animals who furiously pound them. Zoa gets firmly grabbed by the waist as you destroy her fuckhole nonstop, testing how hard this young whore could take your big cock fucking the shit out of her. Meanwhile, Zoa's big, ripe melons are now swinging hard, giving you the perfect opportunity to grope them and feel how hard they try to escape from your grasp every time you pound her.
Zoa regains her strength and lifts her leg up again, allowing your cock to penetrate her even easier. She gets very needy and clingy, turning her cute face in your direction and hugging you as you are still fucking her hard, looking for you to kiss her as much as you can. As much as Zoa may love your cock, she loves your touch and kisses even more, and she just wants to be a good girlfriend. And you give her what she wants: kisses up top, dick at the bottom, making the elevator make a lot of noise as you two hit its walls with your intense fucking.
As you're finally done pounding Zoa, she turns around and gives you a torrid kiss. "Am I a good girlfriend?" she ponders in her head. But you don't give her many seconds to think, instantly lifting her body up and pinning her back against the elevator's wall, forcing her to hold both hands hard into the handrail as you fuck her in a face-to-face position with both her feet up in the air.
"Oh yeah," Zoa says as she fingers her pussy and her feet reach the wall on the other side, landing close to the elevator's buttons. You truly couldn't do this position with a girl shorter than her, feeling blessed for Zoa being so tall and perfect for it.
"You don't get to have it so easy," you tell her, placing her right leg over your shoulder instead and pressing her even further against the wall, giving her a rough but very passionate missionary fucking that sends her over the moon, with Zoa giving you a kiss every time she's not moaning like a submissive slut. "AHHHHH!" Zoa's loud screams come along with the loud noises of her body banging against the elevator's wall as she gets ragdolled and enjoys it to the fullest.
It turns out such a position ends up being too demanding, not only for her but for you as well, as you get Zoa back on her feet and compensate her with another passionate kiss. This time, you let her fully spread her legs and hook them to opposite sides of the elevator, giving you the perfect view of her body, but especially her face, tits, pussy and thighs as you resume fucking her, now with one hand grabbing her head to kiss her and another groping her tits.
Zoa gets increasingly clingy, hugging you and pushing your body even closer to hers. She wants your touch, your cock, to be your cute girlfriend but also your slutty fucktoy. As the hard pounding finally starts to get you tired, you decide to try something different: lying on the elevator's floor as you look up at her goddess-esque tall body, sliding just under her long legs.
You don't even need to give a command; Zoa already knows what to do. She moves a couple steps and squats down your cock, letting herself get fully impaled. At first, you think of telling her to turn around to see her face as she rides you, but as soon as Zoa starts clapping those cheeks against your hips, you feel very appreciative of the back view she gives you, enjoying her beautiful long hair, her toned ass, and her sexy back to the fullest.
Zoa shows no mercy for your cock, riding it hard from the start. "OH MY GOD," she suddenly finds herself screaming, but doesn't slow down. She wants to prove to herself that she can tame any cock. Her moans get louder and screamier as you grind your teeth, trying to hold as hard as you can not to shoot inside her warm hole. Her tits get very bouncy, but you can't see them, and she uses the handrail to her advantage, holding onto it as she keeps bouncing on your cock.
"Wow, I never knew you could ride a dick like that," you tell her. Truth be told, not even Zoa did. Her moves are very spontaneous, the ones of a girl still discovering the pleasures and intrincacies of sex. At times, your cock feels like it's too much for her still-young and unexperienced self, but she's a strong girl ready to blossom and won't stop. The more she feels challenged, the more she wants to ride you, and the harder she goes.
Zoa stays on course; she knows that the elevator won't be turned off for long and wants to bounce as many times on your cock as she can. She starts fingering her pussy, getting wetter, and allowing your prick to slide up and down her easier. "Ah, God," she moans, riding it as fast as she can. The more you hit her sensitive cervix, the better.
You can't be just a bystander to Zoa's pleasure and decide to teach her a lesson, lifting both her legs up and regaining control of the pounding. "Oh yeah," Zoa says as you start pumping her hard back again and destroying her pussy, which has become an addiction to you. The warmth of her hole makes you go feral once more, pounding Zoa balls deep and making your cock fully disappear inside her vagina. It turns out she really likes it rough, as her cunt gets much juicer the moment you go back to manhandle her.
Zoa's pussy burns and clenches all over your cock, forcing you to pull out quickly after just a couple minutes of pounding not to cum inside her. Maybe you need to take it slow. As she turns around, she goes back to sitting on that cock, allowing you to have a full frontal view of her perfect body. "Just ride it as hard as you can," you ask her as you spank her ass. Zoa obliges, this time tilting her body as she clings onto yours and bumps her bouncy chest against it.
"GOD!" Zoa screams as you keep hitting her ass and turning it red, but that only makes her increase her intensity and go full speed against your throbbing pole, bouncing on it as if she wants to snap it in half. "Whoa," you say as Zoa now pushes you to the limit—that perfect, tight pussy biting your cock and sliding up and down—is really just too much for you.
You push your cock up Zoa's pink pussy and put a pair of fingers up her asshole, attempting to slow her down, but she won't cave this time. Zoa wants that cock deep in her pussy at all costs and keeps bouncing. Her hair covers her face, she grabs the handrail hard, and one of her hands is now in her ass to provide her with some extra impulse. "Holy shit," you say as Zoa keeps smashing your cock like nothing. You just decide to grab her by the waist and aid her, pushing her body down your shaft with even more speed, even if it makes you give in and cum inside her.
Zoa's tits are like a pair of pinballs bouncing hard as she places her hands on your chest and stares at you. Her doe eyes are fully bright; she hasn't felt this excited in a long time. Even as you push her closer to you and tilt her body sideways, she never stops. "Fuck, fuck, yes, I want that cock deep in my pussy," she tells you as her cheeks make a loud noise, clapping on your balls.
"Bad girl," you say once again as you slap her ass. Zoa agrees; she's a bad girl, a cock-craving slut, and a teen whore. As she pulls out of your cock a little bit, you think her bombardment is over, but after just two seconds, she has already regained strength to sit back on that cock. It's the only thing she wants now: cock, cock, and more cock. "OH. GOD. FUCK. AH. SHIT." These are the only words that come from Zoa's mouth, as she keeps using your chest as an impulse for her crazy bouncing.
More than 10 minutes have passed, and Zoa just doesn't seem to stop. You push up once again and try to challenge her, as one of her hands is still on the handrail while the other holds your body, but Zoa has won the battle. The truth is, you can never challenge a K-pop idol when it comes to stamina. It's futile.
As Zoa finally climbs out of your cock, she still has her hands on it, always jerking it off at every chance she gets. You stand up to kiss her, still recovering from her crazy ride, but she never gets her tiny hands out of that dick, getting on her knees shortly after to taste her pussy from it, her doe eyes looking more focused than ever. With the way she gags on it, takes it deep in her throat, and jerks it off, it's like your ride never ended. But you can't lie, you love how aggressive she is, taking every second of this elevator fuck session as if it were the last. "Oh yes, fuck," you say as Zoa engulfs that pole all the way deep in her throat in a way many seasoned veterans would be unable to.
"Fuck my face again," she says. Suddenly, that little inexperienced teen is long gone, and she is now giving you orders. She should really respect your seniority, shouldn't she? But you said to hell with it and just gave Zoa what she wanted. You just couldn't say no to the most beautiful woman on the planet, grabbing her head and shoving your big cock down those DSLs until she coughs.
You move back to the elevator's floor, and Zoa follows you as you now penetrate her in a spooning position. Romantic kisses up top and hard pumpings at the bottom ensue. One of your hands grabs her boobs, the other her neck. Zoa can only say "yes" at each pumping and moan like a whore, especially after you move your hands down her body all the way into her wet pussy. You have to grab her long legs to go faster, putting her on the edge. Her pussy tightens as you choke her and muffle her moans with your thumb in her mouth.
You keep pumping Zoa nonstop. "Right there, right there," she says before screaming hard as she cums. She then ties her hair up and gets on her knees, placing her big tits right between your dick and moving them up and down your shaft as you passively watch, searching for that cum. "You want my cum, you little whore?" you ask her. "Yes, baby, all over my pretty face," she says, keeping her aggressive titfucking session going. As you were already on the edge, she promptly gets her wish as seven gravity-defying shots cover her beautiful face full of sperm.
Zoa doesn't even get to enjoy the massive cumshot you gave her, as the elevator starts working again shortly after, leading both of you to get dressed in a hurry and act like nothing happened, with her cleaning her face of your cum just in time to emerge out of it.
It's going to be hard to top your first date.
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hello I rlly enjoyed ur gojo fanfic where he has a lipstick kink could we have more of that? it was rlly good🙏
FOR MY TWO FOLLOWERS WHO ARE INDEED IN THE VOID @jspenft and @a-hidden-gem 🤞 had this shit in drafts for like two years…
“what are you doing?”
“nothin’.”
he’s sitting up on the counter next to you, his legs swaying like a child’s as he watches you pucker your lips and apply a steady coat of gloss on your red lips.
you sigh, putting down your makeup to level him with a stare. “what do you want?”
gojo has the audacity to put on a look of dismay. “does there need to be an ulterior motive to admire you?”
“with you, satoru, there is always an ulterior motive.” you trail your nails up his torso, resting your palm on his chest before repeating, “what do you want?”
he smirks. “do you want me to be honest? no matter how obscene?”
“yes.”
“i want your pretty red lips wrapped around the base of my cock.”
it’s quite comical to gojo, to see how your face puckers up and reddens in shock. “sa—”
“you said to be honest! no need to act all priss and proper—”
“it’s prim and proper, smartass.”
“i don’t care what it is, i just told you what i want.”
“we have your dinner to go to—”
“we can cancel!”
“we cancelled last time—”
“i’m the head of the clan!”
“satoru!”
“what!?”
“you’re so fucking infuriating! i just got ready.”
gojo latches his palms around your hips, holding you steady while trying not to laugh at your pout. he knows you mean nothing by it. “i never said to get unready. i want to fuck you like this.”
you roll your eyes. “fuck you.”
“exactly.”
the mirror shows off your completive expression, bottom lip pulled slightly by your teeth. a heavy but familiar feeling rolls over you, settling right below your belly. it doesn’t help the way gojo stares, as if he needs to touch you, his fingers sliding to the bare skin of your lower thighs and slowly gliding upwards.
“ten minutes. then we leave.” you whisper, carefully planting a red print on his jaw.
gojo smirks. both he and you know better. but he lets the lie live, nodding and mumbling “just ten minutes” before tugging you up to him by your chin, tasting your cherry lips and moaning.
1 notification: a text from Gojo Satoru
Gojo Satoru: sorry everyone! had to cancel tonight. strongest sorcerer things! you know how it goes…
#sorry i could let it continue but i’m choosing not to#i actually had this for so long#need to empty out my drafts#incoming tag spam#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo smut#gojou satoru x reader#satoru smut#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo imagine
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Gelatopod - Ice/Fairy
(Vanilla-Caramel Flavor is normal, Mint-Choco is shiny)
Artist - I adopted this wonderful fakemon from xeeble! So I decided to make up a full list of game data, moves, lore, etc. for it. Enjoy! :D
Abilities - Sticky Hold/Ice Body/Weak Armor (Hidden)
Pokedex Entries
Scarlet: Gelatopod leaves behind a sticky trail when it moves. A rich, creamy ice cream can be made from the collected slime.
Violet: At night, it uses the spike on its shell to dig into the ground, anchoring itself into place. Then it withdraws into its shell to sleep in safety.
Stats & Moves
BST - 485
HP - 73
Attack - 56
Defense - 100
Special Attack - 90
Special Defense - 126
Speed - 40
Learnset
Lvl 1: Sweet Scent, Sweet Kiss, Aromatherapy, Disarming Voice
Lvl 4: Defense Curl
Lvl 8: Baby Doll Eyes
Lvl 12: Draining Kiss
Lvl 16: Ice Ball
Lvl 21: Covet
Lvl 24: Icy Wind
Lvl 28: Sticky Web
Lvl 32: Dazzling Gleam
Lvl 36: Snowscape
Lvl 40: Ice Beam
Lvl 44: Misty Terrain
Lvl 48: Moonblast
Lvl 52: Shell Smash
Friendship Level Raised to 160: Love Dart (Signature Move)
Egg Moves
Mirror Coat, Acid Armor, Fake Tears, Aurora Veil
Signature Move - Love Dart
Learned when Gelatopod's friendship level reaches 160 and then the player completes a battle with it
Type - Fairy, Physical, Non-Contact
Damage Power - 20 PP - 10 (max 16) Accuracy - 75%
Secondary Effect - Causes Infatuation in both male and female pokemon. Infatuation ends in 1-4 turns.
Flavor Text - The user fires a dart made of hardened slime at the target. Foes of both the opposite and same gender will become infatuated with the user.
TM Moves
Take Down, Protect, Facade, Endure, Sleep Talk, Rest, Substitute, Giga Impact, Hyper Beam, Helping Hand, Icy Wind, Avalanche, Snowscape, Ice Beam, Blizzard, Charm, Dazzling Gleam, Disarming Voice, Draining Kiss, Misty Terrain, Play Rough, Struggle Bug, U-Turn, Mud Shot, Mud-Slap, Dig, Weather Ball, Bullet Seed, Giga Drain, Power Gem, Tera Blast
Other Game Data
Gender Ratio - 50/50
Catch Rate - 75
Egg Groups - Fairy & Amorphous
Hatch Time - 20 Cycles
Height/Weight - 1'0''/1.3 lbs
Base Experience Yield - 170
Leveling Rate - Medium Fast
EV Yield - 2 (Defense & Special Defense)
Body Shape - Serpentine
Pokedex Color - White
Base Friendship - 70
Game Locations - Glaseado Mountain, plus a 3% chance of encountering Gelatopod when the player buys Ice Cream from any of the Ice Cream stands
Notes
I'm not a competitive player, but I did my best to balance this fakemon fairly and not make it too broken. Feel free to give feedback if you have any thoughts!
I have a huge bias for Bug Pokemon since they're my favorite type, and at first I wanted to make it Bug/Ice, since any intervebrate could be tossed into the 'Bug' typing. But ultimately I decided to keep xeeble's original idea of Ice/Fairy. There's precedent of food-themed pokemon being Fairy type, and Ice/Fairy would be very interesting due to its rarity (only Alolan Ninetails has it). Its type weaknesses are also slightly easier to handle than Bug/Ice imo
The signature move is indeed based on real love darts, I could not resist something that fascinating being made into a Pokemon move, even if the real games may possibly shy away from the idea. (Honestly it could be argued "Love Dart" is based on Cupid's arrow so Gamefreak might actually get away with making a move like this though.) Its effectiveness on both males and females is a nod to snails/slugs being biological hermaphrodites. I can see this move also being learned by Gastrodon and Magcargo in Scarlet/Violet
#pokemon#fakemon#honorary bug pokemon#pokemon scarlet/violet#pokémon#ice pokemon#fairy pokemon#gen 9#molluscs#snails#mycontent
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Barnaby facts (confirmed by the devs)
Hello! Since I was bored and it's making me so happy to see Barnaby getting so much love lately, I've decided to collect all the info I have about him! I most likely missed something, so if you have info I haven't put here, or got wrong, let me know, ok? ^^
Anyhoo, here we go! **}
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- Barnaby, despite his name, is not a barn owl. He's actually a long eared owl.
- Barnaby isn't his real name; he used to have a different one, back in his alive days. One of the drawings featuring him has him surrounded by many names starting with "B".
- Said illustration has "Who am I?" hidden among the names and words such as "Where" and "Help", hinting at something linked to his identity is torturing him.
- It's been stated that Barnaby is the way he is because of a dangerous experiment that corrupted then killed him, changing him completely as a result.
- Barnaby is asexual homoromantic, and is genderfluid: while he goes primarly by "he/him", he accepts any pronoun.
- He considers his Barnaboos as his "little pretties", and often offers help or advice if they need it; of course, his help may not be as helpful as he believes...
- He hates cheesecake.
- He's not a fan of rootbeer neither; he will serve it in his parties, but he personally won't drink it.
- His favorite food is eye scream, and favorite Halloween treat are caramel apples.
- As for ice cream, his favorite flavor is Strawberry Shortcake.
- Speaking of food, yeah, he doesn't need to eat, nor sleep. But still likes doing it anyway.
- Barnaby is a confirmed sleepyhead. He naps a lot, but never in an ordinary position, or in his bed; he tends to sleep in various gravity bending position, especially upside down.
- Meaning, yes, when Billie comes to steal his gem, he was sleeping!
- And when he sleeps, he apparently snores and hoots.
- While hugging him would result in a kill from him, Ash confirmed Barnaby is a hugger! Hugging him would still involve him squeezing or stabbing you to death, tho'. And he'd feel both soft and slimy to the touch.
- Barnaby is around 10-11ft tall, and with his size-shifting abilities, he can be any height he wants; when he was alive tho', he's as tall as Aristotle, more or less.
- He doesn't need glasses anymore, but sometimes will wear them because they make him look smart. They also tend to follow the eyes' movements.
- Barnaby is very emotional: while it won't stop him from trying to kill you, he will cry if he sees you cry. Ironically, he would comfort you until you feel better. Then he'll kill you.
- It's been confirmed that Barnaby's biggest fear has "already come true".
- His tears are orange, just like his eyes.
- Barnaby is not one to open his heart easily, but the moment he does, there's many ways to reach it. He's quite romantic, tho' not in the usual way: if you gave him a dead rat, he'd consider it a very romantic gesture!
- It's been stated he doesn't have a partner now, but in life, "maybe".
- When it comes to children, it's been confirmed he'd be the best caregiver alongside Dutch, althought for him "it's complicated".
- He apparently had a child of his own, if the picture posted about him during "Father's Day" is any indication. What happened to the little one hasn't been revealed yet.
- Apparently he's the least judgemental character in BBU!
- If he had a TV, it'd be old timey, and he'd watch something really random. Like ducks.
- Barnaby loves small critters; Ash specifically mentions they always linked him with guinea pigs. And indeed, Barnaby had a science guinea pig co-worker once, that turned into an actual guinea pig because of a reckless experiment, and he took care of them.
- He's able to control reality; it's unclear if it's his gem's doing, or his magic power as a ghost.
- In any case, he's now the most powerful character in the game
- Back in his alive days, he was a magic researcher and scientist.
- He actually owned the gem before he turned into a ghost. He even experimented on it, and it's suggested that actually sealed his fate.
- A lot of songs from Oingo Boingo and Lemon Demon fit him: Ash specifically mentioned "Weird Science" as really "Barnabycore"
- Barnaby is autistic: he stims by hooting and flapping his wings when he's excited.
- When he's scared or nervous, he tends to cover himself with his wings.
- Katie said that, if he were a candy, he'd be a sour blueberry.
- Barnaby lives in his own dimension, with his own mansion and everything. And he can travel between realities. Although one comment from Katie suggests he's trapped in there, but it's too early to say for sure.
- According to the devs, he was inspired by Weird Al Yankovic, Lewis from Mystery Skulls and Discord from MLP.
- No, he wasn't inspired by Snatcher, since the development of BBU has lasted longer than A Hat in Time. The two of them canonically know each other tho': only problem is, Snatcher hates Barnaby's guts and finds him too clingy, while the owl adores him.
- He canonically knows Wally Darling from "Welcome Home" and Kira from "Far Fetched" too, since he can travel between realities.
- Barnaby has his guests come to his home by portals that pop just below them. He apparently has kidnapped people before, every once in a while.
- He'd get along well with Dutch.
- It's left vague whether he knows Fantoccio or not.
- He actually has never met Arthur nor Aristotle before the game.
- In any case, he'd find Aristotle really funny, and wouldn't take them seriously.
-- Barnaby is aware of the player, and can break the 4th wall. And that's why only he can use Twitter.
- Whenever he writes on Twitter, hE WRiTSE LIkE THIS!!!
- Barnaby is REALLY mischeavous, and finds no problem in cheating in games. But if YOU cheat, then he gets ticked off.
- This suggests he's also a sore loser.
- Judging by his expression in the cutscene, he doesn't like being interrupted.
- It's been confirmed he smells like meldew. :P
- He could fake glitching out, then attack the moment you come to check out what's going on with him.
- He HATES party crashers. Also scarecrows: not good for conversations. And he's not interested in their crops.
- He can play the organ: Katie even suggested that if you hear it in the background of his chapter, that's him playing it.
- He was a young prodigy, back when he was alive!
- Don't be fooled by his goofy antics: he's very smart, still loves making experiments and can speak a lot of languages.
- Ironically, he hates skulls: he finds them icky.
- He was 25-26 when he died; he's been dead for 100+ years.
- Time is very important for him: that's why there's so many clocks in his parlor. It's been suggested he sees partying as a way to keep track with time.
- Despite that, Barnaby himself in the contest video has briefly stated he tends to forget what year it is.
- There's tons of pictures in his manor: all of them depict him, suggesting he's good at painting.
- Katie has noted that Barnaby "remembers everything". When asked if there's something he'd rather forget, they stated that "what he wants and what he needs are very different things".
- His family is "infinite", apparently. Then again, one of his very early descriptions stated he's got no friends nor family to speak about...
- He's been described as "self interested"
- When asked which character had the most trauma, without giving hints about being traumatized, Katie confirmed Barnaby as the answer, even stating his story makes them the saddest, alongside Fanto's.
- His favorite color is pink!
- He can change himself into lots of animals, and can even clone himself!
- When asked if he can talk to his alive self, Katie said it's "technically possible".
- Back when he was alive, he was noted as a dork and a hardworker, so much so he'd even pull one-nighters before making speeches for his research. Katie jokingly suggested that's why he parties so much: it's to make up for lost time!
- He had a different way of speaking, back when he was alive. And his icks were probably different as well.
- When he gets overwhelmed, he has a shutdown, and goes completely silent.
- At early stages, Barnaby was supposed to be a bug.
- The moment his design as a ghost was chosen, he went through a lot of palette options, like a pale blue color like he came from "The Haunted Mansion", or all colorful like "Dia de los Muertos". Ultimately they settled for his currently shadowy look because, not only it's easier to animate, it was in line with his backstory.
- Barnaby can melt. It's still unclear what triggers such a reaction, but some pictures hint that it's tied to his psychological state.
- Barnaby has been noted that he can talk fancy, but he's not eloquent.
- His favorite dance is the charleston!
- Ash has stated that in the game he is going to be depicted doing something similiar to "singing himself to sleep".
- Apparently he still makes pellets from his mouth. Dead or not, he's still an owl.
- He often puts emphasis on words, sometimes even making his bowtie spin.
- In the latest Twitter post featuring him, when you decode the garbled message, you can read: "Barnaby lies Along in his thoughts, Resting On the floor Neglected". Not only this hints at his turmoil, it also hides the word "BARON". It's unclear if it's his name, a title he possessed, or someone or thing else entirely connected to him.
- He loves recieving scretches on his head.
- Barnaby can cook, but he'll more often than not leave that to the Barnaboos.
- He's not that interested in gardening, even tho' he owns a greenhouse.
- He'd enjoy playing "Luigi's Mansion"!
- In Super Smash Bros. he'd main Meta Knight, even relating to him.
- He'd happily accept smoochies, apparently!
- His favorite party game is "Pin the tail on the owl".
- If you are his friend, he'd consider it even more of a reason to stay in the manor and never leave!
- He has claimed that he's used to give himself self love and compliments, since no one else does it. That, and his tendency to ask others for hugs or if they need a hug to calm down, suggests he's affection starved.
- He tends to react to compliments from fans by smiling bashfully, or happily shouting that he's popular.
- Katie stated that his favorite movie would be something unexpected, like "Marnie & Me" or "Up".
- Barnaby can see everything from the eyes of the plushies that look like him. So, if you bought one... watch out...
- Among his early designs, he also looked like a completely different owl, tall and austere looking, who was the guardian of the forest. It was changed because the devs wanted a goofy boss that could stand out among the others.
- Having said that, it seems Barnaby was the last boss to be officially revealed, and initially the game only had Elaine, Dutch and Fantoccio as the main bosses.
- Barnaby LOVES puns. A good deal of the lines he says when you get defeated in his chase contain a pun.
- You try being slick by stating you want to die of old age? Too bad: Barnaby will make you age rapidly. Despite that, Katie confirmed he doesn't have time related powers...
- Katie and Ash confirmed Barnaby can fly. And such a sight is apparently really hilarious.
- Barnaby loves shiny trinkets: if he sees a sparkly thread, he'll fixate on it and will follow its movements. It's like with a cat following a laser.
- Barnaby has teeth; they're orange and sharp, and come out when he's ticked off, or especially devious.
- When he was alive, he only used he/him pronouns. He became comfortable with all pronouns after he died. He's always been interested in men.
- This goes without saying, but still: he operates on cartoon logic. He can use both his wings AND his feet as hands. Even both feet can act as hands, even when they appear off camera. How? Because it's Barnaby and he can do anything he sets his mind into!
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The only HFIL 10 things I can provide at the moment because I’m quite normal for TFS Cooler. I am grateful for the exquisite food. The overall episode is indeed a bit fast paced but it did have hidden gems in it.
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Cowboy Like Me - Part 1
Azriel x Reader
Azriel meets his match in a contract spy while attending a barge party in the Summer Court. Together, they are tasked to investigate rogue shipments coming into Prythian. Will they be able to tolerate each other? Will they fall in love along the way?
Inspired by the queens of my heart, Taylor Swift and Sarah J. Maas.
Part 2
Warnings: Language and some suggestiveness.
These functions were odious. Hundreds of elite fae from throughout Prythian gathering to spread gossip, exaggerate how deeply their coffers ran, and boast of their latest voyeurs in both the sheets and battlefields. Yet, amidst all of the cock measuring, bits of truth revealed themselves to those with the proper skill set. So yes, while odious indeed, a lucrative affair for me.
Tonight I’d found myself aboard a pleasure barge on the Adriatic Sea. Several High Lords accepted Tarquin’s invitation to a summer soirée honoring some milestone birthday of Cresseida’s. I couldn’t remember her age, I didn’t care honestly. The information I sought was of a more confidential manner.
Whenever any High Lords made their appearance at such gatherings, nobility from their respective courts came out in droves in hopes of rubbing elbows with the upper cress of their kingdoms. Minor lords sought advantageous matches for their heirs, esteemed merchants networked to expand trade routes, tittering courtiers cozied up to nobility in an effort to advance whichever cause they were pursuing that night.
A well-trained ear and eye lusted for occasions such as this. Those Minor Lords so easily letting details slip of their needs, allowing a glean of where their courts higher nobility were failing them. The merchants whispering confidential details of questionable consignments slipped in with their usual fare.
And the courtiers, it was too simple to read in between the lines of their oh-so-cryptic conversations. The courtiers of lesser nobility who hadn’t yet mastered the art of subtlety were easy to read, even easier to trade gossip with.
My glamour skills were exceptional. Some would call the statement arrogant, but it was truth. On top of my assets as a spy, my ability to work my way into high profile events with subtle changes to my hair, eyes, and scent made spying a lucrative profession.
A contact from Adriata’s Port Authority had contracted my services for tonight. A shipment of jewels, spices, and varying textiles procured from the continent had arrived days ago with fake gems, missing rolls of fine silk, and poison laced spices that had been set aside for the royal kitchens. I’d been tasked with garnering any information that may lead to the perpetrators.
Initially it was suspected that the act had occurred before leaving the port of origin. However, Tarquin’s own contacts had accounted for everything at the port and again halfway through sailing. I had my suspicions of who was behind the act which led me to my current position, pretending to be engaged in conversation with the pompous son of some Minor Lord from Dawn.
Honestly, how many “Oh”, “Wow”, and “That’s very interesting”’s could I throw into the conversation before he realized I wasn’t paying attention.
Yet, what I saw behind the male was quite interesting. Eris Vanserra making a rare Autumn Court appearance, far too casually winding through the crowd toward the High Lord of the Night Court as the lovely High Lady shared an animated story about, “Water Wolves”, whatever those were. The story just interesting enough to garner the attention of the surrounding audience long enough for the High Lord to stride off to a more secluded area toward the bow of the ship. The same place Eris had conveniently found himself at.
Feigning ill, I excused myself from the one-sided conversation. Quickly, I glamoured myself to look a bit more pale, and padded toward the bow. Fortunately there was a blind spot within earshot perfectly hidden by a few crates of spare items for the night should any dishwear or wines run out from the various tables spread around the barge. Keeping up my ruse I leaned over the rail, quietly dry heaving.
“All I’m saying is watch your shipments. An influx of boats have been reported leaving our ports recently. He’s up to something.” Eris’ hushed voice warned.
Oh, this was very interesting. Autumn’s heir apparent heeding warning to the Night Court.
The High Lord’s voice lowly inquired, “Do you know wh-“
The atmosphere suddenly turned dark as shadows swirled next to me. Raising from his perched position in the dark stood the High Lord’s spymaster.
Shit.
“Did the oaf you were speaking with bore you to sickness or is this washed out complexion a new glamour?”
Shit!
“People are staring, Shadowsinger. Are you going to ask me to dance or should we make a spectacle of ourselves?” I smirked cooly. Unsure of how I managed to pull off the collected facade in the face of the feared, and…. devastatingly gorgeous? Spymaster of the Night Court.
He smirked - a deadly, seductive smirk, extending his hand. This was a dangerous game. “My lady, honor me with a dance?”
I stepped toward him, aware of every weapon carefully placed underneath my silken cobalt blue dress. His shadows keenly aware of them too as they swirled around the location of each hidden sheath.
Oh, they were good.
His fingers gripped tightly atop the most easily accessible of my daggers, firmly pressed to my waist as a herringbone corset would be. His opposite hand gripped mine just tightly enough that it couldn’t slip free.
“You know, beautiful, it seems you’ve got a couple of weapons under your dress. You’re quite the double threat.” his face remained relaxed but those hazel eyes promised strife if I didn’t comply.
They stepped in rhythm to the Summer Court medley that played “It takes one to know one, handsome.”
He twirled me outward and pulled me back in before I could dare consider escaping. “I’m protecting my High Lord. Weapons come with the territory. Who are you serving?”
I batted my eyes innocently “I’ll serve you if you ask politely.”
I could have sworn the slightest shift in scent invaded my senses, “Ah, but you’re not a courtier, darling. You’re a spy. And I don’t take kindly to spies listening in on my courts affairs.”,
“Luckily for me, our interests seem to align.” I countered.
He dipped me back just in time to lock stares with the High Lord, stars twinkling in his eyes as he looked down at me, “Ah, brother. Who is your lovely dance partner?”
Once again,
Shit.
And then everything went black as we winnowed.
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“Welcome to the Hewn City - My name is Azriel. Care to share your name?”
“Elyse.” I lied.
Azriel stepped forward, “No dear, I don’t believe it is. Let’s not get off on a worse foot than we already have.”
I rolled my eyes. Fine. “Y/N.”
Good girl. He purred. The heat that pooled in my core at his tone was pathetic. Traitorous body.
“Why were you spying on Rhysand?”
I was a spy for hire. Being tortured in the name of Adriata’s Port Authority was not how I was going down. So I told him the truth.
“Adriata received a shipment with stolen goods and poison laced spices. I was simply seeking information on the matter.”
“And you felt that my High Lord was involved?”
I scoffed. “No, not exactly. While your High Lord is rather cunning, he’s not one to risk sparking a Civil War. Especially against his own ally.” I looked intently to the Spymaster with a smirk, “That bastard Eris Vanserra on the other hand…”
I could have sworn amusement briefly flashed in his eyes at the statement as he sat before me. “I’ve seen you at several functions recently. You are sly, I’ll give you that. But you have tells. The way your eyes wander off of those you are in conversation with. The slight lies you give the courtiers in an effort to bring their guard down and let information slip. Your glamours are excellent but not enough to disguise you once you’ve been spotted.”
Confusion swirled in my brain at this tactic. Certainly the willingness to share was an effort of bringing my guard down.
I stiffened. “Why are you telling me this?”
He raised an eyebrow “You shared information with me, I am simply returning the favor.”
“How generous of you , Azriel.” My tone was sharp. But his name… Oh how it tasted like honey on my tongue.
He shrugged. “This doesn’t have to be hard. Despite what you may have heard about me, I am a reasonable male. From what I’ve seen, up until tonight, you’ve never been a threat to those I’m allied with.”
I relaxed a bit at the statement. “You’ve watched me that closely?”
“What kind of spymaster would I be to not keep tabs on potential enemy spies?”
“I am not your enemy, Azriel.” Damn my tone for coming out so softly.
He looked at me earnestly, “I know.”
“Then why am I here?”
His gaze once again shifted to that of the infamous spymaster, “I want you to work with me.”
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Thank you to everyone who voted in my poll and/or took the time to read this! I hope to post Part 2 this week. Stay tuned!
#cowboy like me#taylor swift#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#x reader#sarah j maas#fanfic#fanfiction#a court of frost and starlight#a court of wings and ruin#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#rhysand#feyre archeron#night court#summer court
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• Ganondorf • Hidden Gem •
Summary: A new guest arrives at the Gerudo palace and the king takes an interest in them.
Genre/Warnings: GN!Reader, Smut. Minors DNI with this one.
Author’s Notes: I swear to god, I never thought I’d be writing smut for this mf, but here I am and now I’m subjecting you all to it. Also kind of imagining this one as like, pre-game Ganondorf. Written by Mishwanders.
The king of the Gerudo had an acquired taste for many things, including people. At this point in time in his life, he found that he did not hate the Hylians, but rather their impudent ideals that always seemed to follow them, as if they were born with it being ingrained in the very marrow of their beings. It made it incredibly hard for him to have any kind of communication with them that didn’t involve groveling or bending the knee. He was a king for god's sake! He was not going to bend the knee to another unless it was deserved (or involved in a ploy to gain sovereignty…).
But when one of them showed defiance to the long held Hyrulian ideas - well, that got his attention.
That’s how he found you amidst his presence in the throne room, an interesting gem saved from the clutches of the sands. You had been brought to him, bound by his guards. He studied you as you studied him, a silent interrogation as he made his way around you, taking in every aspect of your body, his attention specifically being drawn to your eyes.
There was a fire in them, one that he found akin to his own. That piqued his curiosity in you even more - so much that he cut your bindings himself. He looked you up and down once more, before bringing his hand to your chin, gently guiding you attention to his eyes as he spoke. “You are a rarity amongst the sands.”
“A hidden gem indeed.” You responded, peering deeply into his own.
That’s when he felt it, noticed the spark, your flame mingling with his. He wanted to feel it burn with every word, to consume it entirely. You would be a welcomed entertainment for the night, even if it were by your words alone. But he wanted more than that, so he decided to make his intentions clear from the start. He allowed his hand to slide down your neck, your shoulder, along the length of your arm until he reached your hand and took it in his own, raising it to place a kiss on your knuckles as he continued to peer into your eyes. “Your shape is like the desert, a rare beauty, an object of admiration. I would love to see its mysteries unfold.”
He caught the glint in your eye as he spoke, knowing he had captivated you. But he was surprised when you knew how to dance around him yourself with your words, every beautiful and fleeting as the wind, feeding into his desires, giving him everything he wanted to hear. He could see right through it, see the desires you craved and a part of him was more than ready to give it to you.
But he wanted to play the game a little while longer, get you desperate and craving more. It was subtle at first, flirtatious words and lingering gazes, but then it slowly turned into more with a soft touch that grew heavier as the evening went on, until you had grown impatient and were exactly where he wanted you.
After that, the night was a whirlwind of desires and emotions, his body mingling with yours, enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. Ganondorf's hands were laced in your hair, pulling your head down the edge of the bed, forcing you to look outward toward the mirror in front of you, ensuring that you would be able to see just how much of a mess he was making of you, just how well you were taking his cock with each long stroke. He loved the way your body reacted to him, the way it squirmed and bounced, how your voice filled the room with abandon, cracking as he continued to bury his cock deep inside you.
The sweat along your skin glimmered under the moonlight in the mirror, making you look even more of a rare jewel before his eyes - only for his eyes.
“Such a pretty jewel you are.” He panted, feeling his release building inside of him.
You were too much of a mess to speak back to him now, your eyes glazed over in an overstimulated lustful haze, your body dripping with cum, more than well spent by four orgasms ago. At this point, you were along for the ride, so pliable for him, easily melding into every touch and movement, feeling the sting of each stretch and stroke of his cock finding its way deeper inside of you, more than you even considered possible than before.
Ganondorf slid his hand up from your thigh, trailing along every curve until he reached your neck, gripping it tightly. He could see your eyes widen, a hint of fear in your eyes, on your expression. He chuckled at your reaction, shifting his hand. He brought his thumb up to graze along your bottom lip before sneaking past it and giving you a simple command. “Suck.”
Your eager obedience would soon be rewarded. The way your tongue gently glided along the pad of his thumb, circling around it, sucking greedily, coating it in your saliva. Such an interesting sight to take in, he was enjoying it just as much as he enjoyed watching you take his cock. It was the combination of the sights, sensations, and sounds that drew him to the edge, coercing a deep and guttural moan to escape him as he slowed, filling you up, making sure you were completely full and well spent.
He soon released you from his grip, pulling you back with him to the head of the bed where he cleaned you up, making sure to tend to your needs while you could not. When he was done, he pulled the sheets around you both, peering down at your exhausted figure beside him, gently stroking your cheek. He smiled at the sight, finding you pleasing to look at even now.
Maybe he’ll keep this precious gem for a little longer.
Maybe he’ll just keep you forever.
#ganondorf x reader#ganondorf#loz fic#legend of zelda fic#legend of zelda fanfiction#spicy writing: ganondorf#mdni#ganon x reader
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polaroid love ─ nanami kento.
His beloved could not help but squeeze his hand gently, her eyes filled with unspoken affection for him. It was the feeling of being bathed in the sun, when she looked at him like that. It was the feeling of being able to enjoy the delicious flavors of newly baked bread, fresh from the oven. It was as though he had just drank a cup of good, warm coffee that woke him up to life. In that moment, Nanami Kento knew that he had indeed won at life with such a love, a love that felt like coming home after a long journey. She was home. His home.
GENRE: Post-Return to Jujutsu High, 2010s
WARNING/s: Fluff, Humor, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Domesticity, Family;
main masterlist
what a wonderful world masterlist
listen: polaroid love by enhypen
what are you doing new year's eve | polaroid love
next: just one day
HE WONDERED IF IT WAS TOO LATE TO TURN BACK. But as he looked at her, smiling to herself with the giddiness that could only come from pure joy— he felt like he was going to combust from all the warmth he felt. Nanami Kento took the time to observe her excitement in detail. He could not help but marvel at the way her eyes lit up with pure delight, reflecting the sunshine that seemed to radiate from within her.
Her infectious happiness transformed the mundane into the extraordinary, turning the passing footsteps of strangers into a symphony of life. It was in these moments that he realized how he had become captivated by her spirit, a force that effortlessly pulled him into her world.
Her humming, a melodic backdrop to the scene outside, resonated in harmony with the rhythm of the city. Kento found himself enchanted by the simple act of her appreciating the beauty in the everyday, finding joy in the glimpses of life unfolding beyond the window. Her happiness, in turn, became a magnetic force that drew him closer, eroding any inclination he might have had to resist her wishes.
With each skip of his heart, Kento acknowledged the unique beauty she possessed in those rare moments of unbridled happiness. It was as if she had borrowed the sunlight from the streets of Copenhagen, infusing it into her being, and radiating it back to the world. She became the living embodiment of the city's warmth, casting a glow that transcended the physical space around her.
Kento recalled the countless times he had found himself unable to refuse her, recognizing that saying no to her was like denying himself the pleasure of witnessing her unparalleled joy. Whether it was exploring hidden gems in the city, trying new culinary delights, or embarking on unexpected adventures, he found himself willingly swept into the currents of her enthusiasm.
As she eagerly anticipated the meeting with his grandparents, Kento couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for having her in his life. Her patience in awaiting this moment, the eagerness in her eyes, and the genuine excitement etched on her face were testaments to the significance she placed on meeting the people who had shaped him.
As Nanami Kento continued to watch her immersed in the sunlight of Copenhagen, a sense of gratitude and realization enveloped him like a warm embrace. The radiant beams streaming through the window seemed to accentuate the vividness of her joy, as if the very essence of the city's sunshine had found a home within her. In that moment, Kento felt an unspoken acknowledgment resonate within him — he had discovered an irreplaceable treasure in her happiness, a treasure he was unwilling to part with.
The echoes of life outside the window, the rhythmic cadence of footsteps and distant laughter, served as a poetic backdrop to the profound connection he shared with her. It was as if the vibrant pulse of the city synchronized with the beats of their intertwined lives. Kento marveled at the beauty of this synchronicity, where the external world mirrored the harmony they found in each other.
In her presence, he found solace and rejuvenation, a stark contrast to the self-imposed isolation he had once chosen. Copenhagen's sunshine and her infectious joy had become potent antidotes to the shadows of his past, dispelling the remnants of solitude that lingered within him. It was a transformation he hadn't expected, a reawakening facilitated by her entrance into his life.
The acknowledgment that he wouldn't have it any other way echoed not just through the room but through the corridors of his heart. Her joy had become an integral part of his world, intertwining with the fabric of his existence in a way that felt both natural and extraordinary. He wanted to protect that joy, to safeguard it as if it were a delicate bloom that thrived under the nourishment of their shared experiences.
As he continued to observe her, a silent promise formed in the recesses of his thoughts — he would cherish this newfound connection, nurture it, and safeguard it from the storms that life might bring. The extraordinary beauty she brought into his life was a revelation he hadn't anticipated when he had distanced himself from the world and the people he once cared about.
In the warmth of Copenhagen's sunshine, amidst the echoes of life unfolding outside, Nanami Kento embraced the beauty of connection and rediscovered the capacity to welcome joy into his life. The journey with her, filled with laughter, sunlight, and shared moments, became a testament to the transformative power of love and the resilience of the human spirit.
“You’re staring way too much, Kento–kun.” Her voice came out so teasingly, vibrant eyes bubbling at his own. He gulps silently, cheeks suddenly warm. “You see something you like?”
Nanami Kento felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a half-smile, a blend of intrigue and amusement. She was the sun itself like this, piercing through him with teasing light that beams through no matter what. Kento supposed he is but a man, a man who cannot deny his need for the sun. He would not be alive without it. He would not feel warmth without it. Just as he couldn’t be without her. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and her playful tone only heightened the allure of the moment.
"Well, you know, it's hard not to stare when you're lighting up the whole room with that smile," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of sincerity beneath the playful banter. He let out a chuckle, one that only hears from someone too in love. “Can’t a man stare at his partner?”
She arched an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her gaze. "Oh, is that so? Then this partner should carry a warning then – may cause distraction with excessive smiling."
Kento chuckled again, feeling a newfound ease settle between them. "I don't think any warning would have prepared me for this."
Her laughter echoed through the room, a delightful melody that wrapped around them. The exchange, born out of a teasing remark, evolved into a shared moment of light-hearted banter.
She leaned in slightly, her eyes holding a subtle glint. "Well, Kento-kun, if you can't help but stare, maybe you should join me in enjoying the view."
He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Are you inviting me to admire myself?"
A playful smirk played on her lips. "Maybe, or maybe I just want some company in appreciating the beauty of life outside this window."
Kento chuckled, realizing that beneath the teasing exchange was a genuine invitation to share a moment together. "I suppose I can spare a few moments to appreciate the view."
As their banter unfolded, Kento found a soothing rhythm in the exchange of words. The ease that emanated from her presence seemed to permeate the room, casting a gentle calm over his usually composed demeanor. Being with her had that effect—like a comforting balm for his worries, an anchor in the unpredictable sea of life. Everything had seemed to be like calm waves in the drifting sea in the wonder of dawn. Nothing was hard with her. Everything had become so easy with her by his side. Her love was like that. Her love was everything that made life worth living.
Yet, in spite of the reassurance her company brought, a subtle undercurrent of nervousness lingered in Kento's thoughts. It was the first time his grandparents would meet his partner, a momentous occasion that stirred a mix of emotions within him. Maternal bonds ran deep in him, and Kento felt a special closeness to his grandparents, having shared a part of his life under their care. The summers, the holidays, and the everyday moments had woven a tapestry of memories that made the prospect of introducing his beloved to them both exciting and nerve-wracking.
His thoughts wandered to the times spent with them, the laughter echoing through the house, the comforting aroma of his grandmother's warm cooking, and the wise words imparted by his grandfather. The warmth of a smile and the touch against a scrap cut. Those memories were precious, and he couldn't help but wonder how his partner would fit into the wider narrative of a family that meant the world to him.
A deep sense of vulnerability crept abstrusely into Kento's heart as he tried to grapple with the uncertainty that came with this introduction to a new chapter of his life. He’s never brought a girl home before. He’s also never known how to conceptualize the idea of a lover into the broader workings of his universe. He kept going back and forth at what his grandparents' reaction could be.
‘What if they didn't like her?’
His lips quipped into a nervous line. The question lingered, carrying the weight of the unspoken fear that mirrored the hesitations he had faced with his parents about his love for her. It was swell that his mother and father loved her already, they knew her as his dear friend for a long time. But his grandparents hadn’t.
And it was a lot of pressure, because it mattered. It mattered that she was loved by everyone around him. She deserved to be loved. Because she was everything that made life a wonder. He needed the world to see that too. He needs them to see her as he does. To feel her be the sun that bathes the world in the wonder offered by sunlight’s warmth.
He stole a glance at her, her eyes filled with a comforting reassurance, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for her presence. The banter, the laughter, and the playful moments they shared became a source of strength, a reminder that he didn't have to face this moment alone.
"I hope they like you," Kento admitted, the vulnerability in his voice belying the composed exterior. "As much as they mean the world to me, you mean the world to me more than anything. I want them to see what I see in you. I want them to love you too.”
Her gaze softened, and she reached out to gently squeeze his hand. "They'll see how we love each other, Kento. Don’t worry too much about it. Just be yourself, and everything will fall into place."
The words lingered in the air, settling like a gentle breeze that swept away the remnants of nervous anticipation. With her reassuring touch and the promise of acceptance, Kento felt a renewed sense of calm enveloping him. As they continued their journey towards his grandparents' home, the weight of uncertainty seemed to lift, replaced by a quiet confidence in the love they shared.
The streets of Copenhagen unfolded around them, a picturesque backdrop to the evolving narrative of their relationship. Kento found solace in the belief that the warmth of their connection would act as a bridge, spanning the gap between the familiarity of his grandparents and the new chapter they were embarking upon together.
In the quiet moments of the journey, he reflected on the beauty he saw in her—the laughter that echoed in the corners of their shared experiences, the kindness that radiated from her gestures, and the genuine joy that lit up her eyes. It was a beauty that went beyond the surface, a reflection of the love and understanding they had cultivated in their time together.
As the car rolled along the cobblestone streets, Kento couldn't shake the image of his grandparents' home in his mind—the cozy familiarity of the living room, the comforting aroma of home-cooked meals, and the memories etched into every corner. He hoped that, in introducing his partner to this cherished space, the love they shared would become as evident to his grandparents as it was to him.
With each passing moment, Kento found strength in the belief that genuine connections could withstand any uncertainties. Love, he realized, had a unique way of transcending differences and building bridges between generations. The nervousness that had accompanied him earlier began to transform into a quiet optimism, a hope that his grandparents would see the depth of the bond he had found with her.
He leaned towards her, his eyes shining with nothing but love. "I love you. Very much."
She grinned at him, echoing his love. "I know. I love you too."
Nanami Kento let his lips rest on hers.
And soon enough, she reciprocated too.
He did not care whoever stared at them.
Nanami cared more about loving her well.
KENTO COULD REMEMBER MEMORIES OF HIS YOUTH AS THEY WALKED. The walk to his grandparents' home felt like a journey through the corridors of nostalgia. Each step echoed with memories of laughter, warmth, and the comforting embrace of familial love. Kento's grip on his partner's hand tightened, a silent reassurance that together they could face whatever lay ahead.
Approaching the well-worn doorstep of his grandparents' home, Kento's heart quickened its pace, a symphony of emotions playing within him. The scent of familiar flowers in the garden, the creaking sound of the opening gate, and the distant hum of the city outside created a sensory backdrop to this significant moment. As his hand reached out to grasp the doorknob, he felt a blend of anticipation and affection coursing through him, like the pages of a cherished novel about to be reopened.
The door, weathered by the passage of time, swung open, and there she stood—his grandmother, a paragon of kindness and familial love. Her eyes, soft with years of wisdom and tender memories, lit up with recognition and unbridled joy as she beheld her grandson standing at the threshold.
"Kento, min kære dreng!" Her voice, a soothing melody, carried the resonance of countless echoes of his boyhood.Kento smiled as the door opened. Wrinkles etched with the passage of time framed her warm smile as she enveloped Kento in a comforting embrace. "It's been too long, min lille kærlighed!"
As Kento melted into his grandmother's embrace, the past and present seamlessly intertwined, creating a tapestry of emotions that transcended time. Her arms, like the comforting notes of a familiar melody, wrapped around him, evoking memories of days long gone. The scent of her familiar perfume, the softness of her embrace, all stirred echoes of childhood visits that played like a nostalgic symphony in his mind.
In that tender moment, the walls of the living room seemed to fade away, transporting Kento back to a time when he was a child seeking solace and joy in the sanctuary of his grandmother's home. The creaking sound of the rocking chair, the gentle hum of her lullabies, and the whispered secrets shared in the quiet corners of the house—these were the building blocks of the unbreakable bond they had forged over the years.
His heart swelled with gratitude, a profound appreciation for the constancy of her love that had weathered the storms of time. The wrinkles etched on her face, like the lines of a well-worn novel, told the story of a life filled with joy, challenges, and unwavering support for her grandson. As he returned the embrace, Kento felt the weight of the years momentarily dissipate, leaving only the warmth and reassurance that came with the love of a matriarch who had been a pillar of strength throughout his journey.
The embrace held an unspoken language—a language of shared laughter, silent tears, and the countless unvoiced expressions of love that had woven the fabric of their relationship. As they stood there, locked in that tender embrace, Kento marveled at the resilience of family bonds, the ties that connected generations and stood the test of time.
It was more than a hug; it was a timeless connection that surpassed the boundaries of words. In the arms of his grandmother, Kento found not just a physical embrace but a sanctuary of love—a place where he could always return, no matter how far life took him.
“Mormor, I've missed you," Kento admitted, his voice betraying the depth of his emotions. “It’s been a while since I’ve come up to visit. Where’s farfar?”
She held him at arm's length, her eyes searching his face as if deciphering the stories etched in the contours. "And I've missed you, min kære dreng. Oh, he’s reading his newspaper in the back. But who is this lovely lady you've brought with you?”
Kento stepped aside, his hand gesturing towards his beloved, who stood with a genuine smile that mirrored the warmth of the familial scene. His grandmother's eyes shifted from him to his beloved partner, and in that moment, the atmosphere seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the introduction of this new chapter in their shared story.
His grandmother’s face brightens up, her smile widening.“Don’t tell me, is this what I think this is?”
Kento couldn't help but return her smile, the sight of her instantly bringing back a flood of fond memories. "Mormor, this is my partner. I’ve been wanting to introduce her to you, so she can meet my wonderful mormor and farfar."
His beloved offered a respectful bow, her own smile mirroring the genuine warmth that radiated from the older woman. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, frue. Kento has told me so much about you."
His grandmother's eyes twinkled with amusement as she exchanged a knowing glance with Kento who seemed flustered about that. "Oh, has he now? That’s good to know! I’m too certain that half of it is flattery now, is it?”
His beloved laughs. “Oh not at all, frue! He’s said nothing but fond things about you.”
“Oh it better stay that way!” She says teasingly, turning to her grandson. She laughs delightfully. He purses his lips, his cheeks flustered in scarlet “Do come in, you two. It’s pretty hot out. Skat! Come here! Our dearest grandson is here!”
The trio moved into the living room, a space that held the echoes of countless shared moments. Kento's grandfather, seated in his favorite armchair, looked up from his book, a gentle smile forming on his lips. The older gentleman puts his book away, neatly tucking it into the folds of the coffee table and gets to his feet, walking towards the crowd of three. He smiled so tenderly, so kindly as he stood beside his wife.
"Kento, min dreng! It’s good to see you.”
Kento looked at his grandfather and moved towards him to give him a hug and a kiss on his cheek. “It’s always my pleasure to see you, farfar.”
“Oh you and your flattery, dreng.” His grandfather warmly laughed.
He shakes his head, gently smiling. “I never lie about that, farfar.”
“He’s definitely his mother’s son, alright.” His grandfather jokes, looking towards his wife. “You remember, how min lille always flatters her poor old far.”
His wife laughed, her face softening in the nostalgia of memories. “Hm, the blood is definitely strong!”
“And who is this charming young lady?" His grandfather inquired, turning to Kento and his partner.
“This is my partner, farfar.” Kento turns to his partner, his eyes clearly shaking timidly as he watches his grandfather’s eyes turn wide. His grandmother smiles at him, and then her husband.
“Our Kento’s fallen in love, honning!”
His lover stepped forward, extending a hand with a smile as she spoke her name. “It's a pleasure to meet you!”
The older man's handshake was firm but warm. But it was obvious that he was pleased. His eyes were as clear as day. They always tell. "The pleasure is ours, kære pige! Kento finally fell in love and introduced us to the one who holds his heart! I never thought this day would ever come!”
Kento’s face turned bright red at his grandparents and their elated responses to the news. His partner looks flushed in scarlet too, smiling at the thought. Kento never really expressed any desire to have a crush or even a lover ever so outwardly before. His grandparents often asked, as much as his parents did. Yet this was the first time he’d ever have a lover so boldly introduced. He was certain his grandparents could see the love in his eyes as he looked at his partner.
“I’ll go make us some tea and snacks.” His grandmother says, still smiling from ear to ear as she kissed her husband’s cheek. “Do get them settled here, honning.”
His grandfather dutifully nodded with a smile. “Of course, honning. You two, come, make yourselves comfortable!”
As they settled into the familiar surroundings of the homely four walls, Kento couldn't help but marvel at how seamlessly his beloved was able to blend into the essence of his grandparents' home. It was as if she always belonged there, how easily she was a fixture in everything that echoes his fondness. His eyes warmed as he stared at her. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of ease, and the anxiety that had accompanied him earlier melted away. All was well, he thinks in relief.
Kento sat near beside his lover in the settee, comfortably leaning towards one another. His grandfather sat on his chair, marveling at the joy that emitted from his grandson. His beloved looked at him, blushing joyously. Kento returned it as he took her hand into his own. She squeezed it back, which made his heart burst into joy.
"Would you like some tea, dear?" Kento's grandmother returns, tray in hand. One could see the bright varieties of cookies his grandmother had brought out. Kento jumped slightly, but kept his hand on his lover’s own. She smiled at his grandmother and graciously accepted.
As his grandmother set the cups on each of their sides, Kento found himself stealing glances at his lover, who engaged in easy conversation with his grandparents. The smile on his face was no longer tinged with nervousness but with the quiet certainty that he had made the right choice in bringing her here. The love they shared, he believed, had the power to illuminate even the most hidden corners of the heart, and as the evening unfolded, it became evident that this shared promise was already weaving itself into the fabric of his grandparents' home.
As they all gathered around the coffee table, Kento's grandmother, with her gentle smile and twinkling eyes, poured tea for everyone. His grandfather, dearest farfar, sat back in his chair, his hands folded over his stomach, a contented expression on his weathered face.
"So, tell us, Kento," his grandmother began, her voice soft and inviting. "How did you two meet?"
Kento glanced at his dearest beloved, a shy smile playing on his lips. "We met at the jazz festival," he replied, his voice a little nervous but filled with affection. "She was one of the singers.”
His grandfather’s eyes brightened. “Oh, so you were that girl he danced with!”
“Oh yes, min kære søn, Kento’s father – he spoke about how you took Kento dancing!” His grandmother clapped at the memory. “Wasn’t there also a video, honning?”
“Yes, yes. It was shown to me.” Kento nearly groaned at the thought that the video still existed in his parent’s possession.
His partner nodded, her eyes sparkling with fond memories. "I remember thinking how gently he held me throughout the dance," she said, her gaze never leaving him. "We met again after and then became friends. But we realized that something blossomed between us and we were just happy to explore it.”
His Farfar leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with interest. "And what is it that you do, my dear?" he asked, directing his question to Kento's partner.
"I work as an editor for a publishing company." she replied, her voice gentle yet confident. "It’s a tough job, going through manuscripts. But it’s always a treat to know what sort of universes exist in people’s lives with how they write and think.”
“That’s a lovely thing to do!” His dearest mormor clapped her hands excitedly, she had always loved those who are passionate in life. That’s why she married farfar, who was a jazz musician. Kento supposes its why he fell for her too. She had a passion for life. “Just as hardworking as our dear Kento.”
Farfar nodded approvingly. "A noble pursuit indeed," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. He then looks at his grandson. "And what about you, Kento? What are your plans for the future? I heard you quit your corporate job recently.”
They finally know, he thinks. Kento hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting to his partner before returning to his grandparents. "I'm still figuring things out," he admitted, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. He doesn’t tell them that he has returned to the Jujutsu world. He did not want to concern them. "But having her by my side makes everything feel a little less daunting."
Farfar smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks at his wife, with a love that could burn the world in the warmth of endless affection. "Love has a way of making the path clearer, my dearest Kento. But I hope when you realize that you’ve won at life with such a love, you let yourself close to that love. You keep it. Embrace it, cherish it, and never let it go."
Kento felt a lump form in his throat as he listened to his farfar's words, words that carried the weight of a lifetime of wisdom and love. Mormor smiled, looking at her husband with affection. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Farfar grinned at her act, looking back at her and doing it too. The laughter of his grandmother didn’t exist for a moment. He could not help but abandon the world for the sake of knowing only his beloved’s world for a moment. He glanced at his partner, his heart swelling with emotion at the thought of the depth of their connection.
His beloved could not help but squeeze his hand gently, her eyes filled with unspoken affection for him. It was the feeling of being bathed in the sun, when she looked at him like that. It was the feeling of being able to enjoy the delicious flavors of newly baked bread, fresh from the oven. It was as though he had just drank a cup of good, warm coffee that woke him up to life. In that moment, Nanami Kento knew that he had indeed won at life with such a love, a love that felt like coming home after a long journey. She was home. His home.
"I promise, farfar," Kento said, his voice filled with determination. His hand tightly squeezing at his lover’s own. He could feel her look at him intensely. "I will never let this love go. I will hold onto it with everything I have, and I will cherish it for as long as I live."
Farfar's smile widened, and he reached out to pat Kento's hand affectionately. "That's mit kære barnebarn," he said, his voice filled with pride. "And remember, love is not just about the big moments. It's about the everyday moments, the quiet moments, the moments when you simply hold each other's hands and know that you are exactly where you're meant to be."
Kento nodded, his eyes misty with depth to the love that echoes within him at this moment. He knew that he had a lot to learn about love, but with the love of his life by his side, he felt more confident than ever that they could weather any storm together. He would learn, he would grow better in the knowledge of love. Everything about her was built in love, he thinks. His farfar knew that well enough. He would not be here without mormor’s love.
As the day unfolded, the tea kept being refilled and the cookies kept getting eaten. It was safe to say that the atmosphere in Kento's grandparents' home was filled with warmth and genuine connection. With each passing moment, the barriers between his beloved partner and his family melted away, replaced by a sense of belongingness in the space that Kento had loved so deeply. He had never felt more alive than in the room, being four all together.
Seated around the cozy living room, adorned with cherished family heirlooms and memories, the four of them engaged in animated conversation. Stories from Kento's childhood intermingled with tales of his grandparents' youth, creating a rich tapestry of shared experiences and laughter. His partner’s every story, every echo of likes and dislikes, interests was reciprocated in kind with the warmest of receptions. He had seen it in his partner’s eyes. She had never felt more at home than in this moment.
As they delved deeper into conversation, they stumbled upon a common passion – jazz music. It was a revelation that sparked a palpable sense of excitement in the room, igniting a shared enthusiasm that transcended generations. Kento's grandmother, her eyes twinkling with delight, recounted fond memories of attending jazz concerts in her youth. How she met her dearest husband at one of these concerts. She spoke of the mesmerizing rhythms and soulful melodies that had captivated her heart, transporting her to a world of pure bliss.
Farfar's face lit up with nostalgia as he shared anecdotes of his days as a young man, exploring the vibrant jazz scene of his hometown. He reminisced about late-night jam sessions in smoky clubs, where the music flowed freely and friendships were forged over a shared love for jazz.
Kento's partner listened intently, her curiosity piqued by their stories. She shared her own experiences with jazz, describing how she had stumbled upon the genre during a chance encounter with a street musician. From that moment on, she had been captivated by the raw emotion and improvisational spirit of jazz music.
The day wore on and no one had realized that the sun had left them. It had turned into night and it had come swiftly with all the enjoyment that they found in each other’s company. They now spoke about how there could be a possibility that his partner would get promoted as one of the chief editors of one of her authors soon enough. Kento's grandmother, with a mischievous glint in her eye, excused herself from the conversation for a moment. Kento nodded at her and continued listening to the conversation between his partner and his farfar. He saw that she returned a few minutes later, carrying a dusty photo album in her hands.
"Ah, I couldn't resist," she said with a chuckle, settling back into her chair. "I thought it might be fun to take a trip down memory lane."
Kento's partner smiled warmly, her curiosity piqued as the photo album was opened to reveal a treasure trove of memories captured in faded photographs. Most of them had been polaroid pictures, echoing in the array of sizes and colors. Each page of the photo album echoed the many lives lived in the blossom of the monochromatic tints to the colored ones.
Nanami Kento purses his lips, feeling himself wonder what he was in for. His grandparents had always captured a day in his life when he was with them in his youth. He was their beloved daughter’s only son after all. They poured as much love as they did their daughter. But he couldn’t help but look away, as his grandmother announced to the world, one of his first photos.
"Oh my goodness, Kento, look at you!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as she caught sight of a picture of Kento as a young toddler, his face smeared with chocolate from ear to ear as he grinned at the camera. Kento hugged a stuffed bear on his side, he was pretty certain he named it ‘blåbjørn’ — because it was blue. Kento was certain that it was one of his earlier visits to Denmark, when he had tasted Kiksekage for the first time.
“You look so small compared to the stuffed animal. And god, your smile!”
Kento blushed, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over him as he studied the photograph. He sighs, trying to play it off. "That's me during my first or second birthday party," he said with a fond smile. "I remember that cake. Mormor makes the best Kiksekage. It was my favorite."
“And it still is!” His grandmother grinned, looking at her grandson fondly. “On your last visit, you devoured the whole thing. Your mor definitely did not like that.”
His partner laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You look so adorable," she said, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately.
As they flipped through the pages of the weathered photo album, each turn revealed a new chapter of Kento's life, narrated with heartfelt anecdotes and cherished memories by his grandmother. With each photograph carefully placed, Kento's grandmother's voice filled the room with the gentle cadence of storytelling, weaving a tapestry of moments that had shaped Kento into the person he was today.
She pointed to a snapshot of Kento as a young boy, his face illuminated with pure joy as he clutched a toy car in his tiny hands, and recounted the story of how he had spent countless hours racing around the backyard, his imagination soaring to distant lands. Another photograph captured Kento on his first day of school, his eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, his grandmother recalling how he had bravely marched towards the school bus, a small backpack nearly swallowing him whole.
With each memory shared, Kento's girlfriend felt herself being drawn deeper into the rich tapestry of his life, gaining insight into the experiences and influences that had shaped him into the kind-hearted and resilient person she knew and loved. And as they continued to journey through the pages of the photo album, enveloped in the warmth of storytelling and the echoes of cherished memories, Kento's grandmother's words became more than just a recounting of the past – they became a celebration of life. And even love.
"There's Kento on his first day of school," His mormor said, pointing to a picture of a shy-looking Kento standing in front of a school stop, his backpack nearly as big as he was. He stood in between his parents, while his grandparents flanked him on the side. “Do you remember when he bowed to us and then all the things on his backpack fell?”
“I think I took a picture of it!” Farfar enthusiastically replied to his wife, grinning at his embarrassed grandson. “I think his mother has it. I’ll have to ask our min lille for it.”
"And here he is at his middle school graduation," she continued, her voice tinged with pride as she showed them a picture of Kento wearing his middle school uniform, trying hard not to smile. His grandparents came all the way to Japan to witness him graduate and celebrate. “I think this was the beginning of his emo phase, honning.”
Farfar looked at the picture closer, then looked at his grandson.“Min kære dreng, was that eyeliner on your eyes?”
“N-no. it was not!”
“You don’t have to be shy about it, Kento!” His partner laughed, ruffling at his hair. “You can totally see the passion in your eyes!”
“But it's not eyeliner!”
“Hmmm, whatever you say!”
His beloved partner was captivated by each photograph, her eyes lingering over every detail as if trying to decipher the essence of Kento's soul captured in each frame. With every turn of the page, she felt as though she was peeling back the layers of his past, uncovering hidden facets of his personality and the moments that had shaped him into the person she adored. In the early snapshots of his childhood, she saw a carefree innocence reflected in his laughter and playful demeanor, a reminder of the joyful spirit that had always radiated from him.
As they progressed to his teenage years, she observed the subtle changes in his expression – a hint of determination in his eyes as he navigated the challenges of adolescence, a touch of vulnerability beneath his confident facade. Yet, amidst the transformation, there remained a constant thread of authenticity and warmth, a spark of mischief and kindness that had drawn her to him from the very beginning.
She marveled at how he had grown and evolved over the years, yet beneath the layers of time, there was still that same twinkle in his eyes, the same genuine smile that had captured her heart. And as she traced the contours of his journey through the pages of the photo album, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of admiration and affection for the man he had become – a man whose essence transcended the boundaries of time and space, resonating with a timeless charm that had ensnared her heart.
As they reached the end of the album, Kento's grandmother smiled at them both, her eyes shining with affection. "You two make such a lovely couple," she said, her voice soft with emotion. "Even without a picture, you can see so much love just by looking at you.”
Kento squeezed his partner's hand, feeling a rush of gratitude for the love and acceptance of his family. And as they basked in the warmth of their memories and the love that surrounded them, Kento knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be, with the woman who held his heart in her hands.
The evening air was filled with a sense of nostalgia as Kento's grandmother closed the photo album, her smile lingering as she glanced at Kento and his partner. "Thank you for indulging an old woman's desire to reminisce," she said, her voice soft with affection.
Kento's partner leaned forward, a gentle warmth in her gaze as she spoke. "It was such a pleasure to see these moments from Kento's life," she said sincerely. "It feels like I know him even better now."
Kento's heart swelled with gratitude for the understanding and acceptance his partner showed towards his past. He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers as he spoke. "I'm so grateful to have you here, sharing these memories with me," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "You mean everything to me."
His partner squeezed his hand in response, her eyes shimmering with unspoken love. "And you mean everything to me," she said softly.
Kento's grandmother watched the exchange between the young couple with a knowing smile, her heart brimming with happiness at the sight of their love. "Remember, love is a journey," she said, her voice carrying the weight of years of experience. "It's not just about the destination, but the moments you share along the way."
Kento smiled at his lover.
She coyly smiled back at him.
Mormor and farfar smiled back.
Love was truly in the air.
THEY THOUGHT ABOUT GOING HOME BEFORE DINNER. But his grandparents did not want to send them on their way without having their bellies full. Farfar took charge of the kitchen with a sense of purpose, a twinkle in his eye as he busied himself preparing a traditional Danish dinner. He thought that mormor had worked enough keeping them happy with all her cookies and baked goods through the day and acting as their host. He said he had to do his fair share too. So he had made his dear wife sit and rest while he cooked. It was after all the least he could do.
With skill honed over years, he expertly assembled smørrebrød, the iconic open-faced sandwiches, with generous portions of frikadeller, tender meatballs bursting with flavor, delicately placed on top. Each slice of dark rye bread was meticulously adorned with a colorful array of toppings – pickled herring, creamy remoulade, crisp lettuce, and tangy slices of cucumber, creating a vibrant tapestry of flavors.
Meanwhile, the aroma of boller i karry, a comforting dish of meatballs in creamy curry sauce, filled the air as it simmered on the stove, infusing the kitchen with the tantalizing scent of spices and herbs. Farfar's skilled hands worked with precision as he lovingly shaped the meatballs, each one a testament to his culinary expertise and dedication to his craft.
For dessert, Farfar prepared a refreshing lemon fromage, a light and airy mousse bursting with zesty citrus flavor. The dessert was a perfect balance of sweetness and tanginess, a fitting end to the hearty meal.
As they gathered around the table, spreading food before offering them a feast for the senses, Kento's partner marveled at the array of dishes before her, each one lovingly prepared with care and attention to detail. The smørrebrød, with its vibrant colors and bold flavors, spoke of Farfar's pride in his Danish heritage. The boller i karry, with its rich and creamy curry sauce, was a testament to his skill in the kitchen, a dish that had been passed down through generations of his family.
And as they savored each bite, washing it down with sips of Carlsberg beer from the fridge, Kento's partner couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the warmth and hospitality of Kento's family. It was a meal that transcended mere sustenance – it was a celebration of family, tradition, and the bonds that held them all together.
As the evening wore on and the laughter and conversation flowed freely, Kento was certain that his partner felt a sense of belonging wash over her. In the comfort of his grandparent’s kitchen, surrounded by the love of Kento's family, she knew that she had found a place where she was welcomed with open arms, a place where she could truly call home.
And as they raised their glasses in a toast to love, family, and good food, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the simple joys of life and the moments that brought them all together. Today was everything to Kento. He was so certain about that. And he would never trade it for anything else.
After a little bit of banter, Kento was certain that he and his partner had to go. They planned to go to a museum in the morning. He didn't want to impose further onto his grandparents this late. And so, they began the process of bidding farewell. Kento and his partner were in the kitchen, getting some of the leftover curry for the morning from mormor.
It was then that farfar excused himself from the table for a moment. Kento thought that his grandfather would start to go read his book again. Instead he had disappeared for a few moments, rummaging through forgotten corners of the house until he emerged triumphantly, clutching a weathered polaroid camera in his hands. He grinned at all three of them from the door way.
"Ah, look what I've found!" he exclaimed, holding up the vintage camera for all to see. "It's been ages since I've used this old thing. Let's capture a moment to remember, shall we?"
Kento's girlfriend smiled warmly, her eyes lighting up with excitement at the prospect of capturing a memory with Kento's farfar's beloved camera. "That sounds wonderful," she said eagerly, rising from her seat to stand beside Kento.
With a flourish, Kento's farfar adjusted the settings on the camera, a look of concentration on his face as he peered through the viewfinder. "Now, let's see... Smile!" he called out, pressing the shutter button with a satisfying click.
The room was filled with anticipation as the polaroid picture began to develop before their eyes, the image slowly emerging from the blank canvas like a magic trick unfolding in real-time. Kento's farfar carefully cradled the polaroid in his hands, a smile spreading across his face as the picture came into focus – a perfect snapshot of Kento and his girlfriend, their smiles bright and their eyes sparkling with joy.
"Ah, what a lovely picture," Kento's farfar exclaimed, his voice filled with pride as he carefully placed the polaroid on the table to join the other cherished memories in the photo album.
His partner could not help but just beam with delight, her heart swelling with gratitude for this unexpected moment of connection with Kento's farfar. "Thank you so much," she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "This means the world to us."
Kento's farfar chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he wrapped an arm around Kento's shoulders. "It's my pleasure, kære pige," he said warmly. "Just a small token to remember this beautiful evening by."
And as they gathered around the table once more, the polaroid picture nestled among the other cherished memories in the photo album, Kento's heart overflowed with gratitude for the love and warmth of his family, and the timeless bond that connected them all.
Nanami Kento felt gratitude.
He also felt endless joy.
He cherishes the moment.
Framed in polaroid love.
writer's note:
i think i played polaroid love numerous times to finish this today!!! i like listening to the music that inspired the work to get down the vibe!!! in any case, i got to finish it well because of my semester break!!! i hope you enjoy it well!!! please always take care of yourselves!!! i love you!!! happy early valentines day!!!
facts about nanami and his beloved partner this chapter:
she was first an editor in denmark for a while before she got transferred to a japanese one because she wanted to be nearer nanami.
nanami inspired his wife to quit her job and start writing. her first book was about him, a salaryman trying to figure out life.
nanami was very close to his maternal grandparents because his paternal grandparents passed away before he was born.
his grandparents started a new volume of the photo album after nanami introduced his partner to them. the new photo album is called, 'our grandchildren'.
the first time nanami introduced (by accident) his partner to gojo, it was gojo who told her about the fact that nanami DID in fact use the eyeliner. nanami swore to never show his partner to gojo ever again (this did not happen, gojo's wife became friends with nanami's partner)
this chapter inspired nanami's partner to want to buy a polaroid. but nanami kept halting her about it until her birthday because he planned to buy it for her as a present.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fic#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu x reader#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x nanami kento#nanami kento#kento nanami#nanami#nanami jjk#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x reader#kayu writes ! ! !
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2023 Favorites
Come play favorites with me.
Favorite Korean BL: The Eighth Sense. / Runner up: Our dating Sim
Favorite Thai BL: Never let me go / Runner up: Moonlight Chicken
Favorite Japanese BL: The end of the world with you / Runner up: My Beautiful man eternal (Show +Movie)
Favorite Taiwanese BL: Kiseki Dear to me / Runner up: Stay by my side.
Best director(s): Inu Baek & Werner du Plessis for The Eighth Sense (Korea and Germany) EX AEQUO with Jojo Tichakorn Phukhaothong (Thailand) for FIVE SHOWS (BL or not everything Jojo does is QUEER): Never let me go / Never let me go Our Skyy 2/ The Warp effect / Only Friends / Dirty Laundry. To be noted and congratulated: OG Thai BL director Tee Sintanaparadee with his best work to date: I feel you linger in the air.
Best cinematography: Never let me go by Rat Rungruang (Thailand) / Runner Up: Moonlight Chicken ALSO by Rat Rungruang EX AEQUO Never let me go Our skyy 2 ALSO by Rat Rungruang.
Best use of color theory : The eighth sense GREEN.
Best score /musical moment (instrumental): “Save you from the Death” by Ruiqi Zhao. This song is so good it was used in two shows, airing at the same time, produced by the same man, on the same channel. We first hear it in Never let me go (episode 05) as Palm ravenously kisses Nueng (for a long long long long time) for the first time. AND THEN it’s back in Moonlight Chicken (episode 01) as Uncle Jim and Wen do everything but kiss under the moonlight. Aof and Jojo really said we both using it to be desperate and erotic and what of it. 10/10 no notes.
Runner up: “Refined enlightenment” by Howard Harper-Barnes in I feel you linger in the air (episode 07): The soaring strings that perfectly follows Jom’s arousal as he masturbates to the memory of the most erotic oil massage ever. Refined INDEED. // “Bleeding Signs” by Chris Shards in Never let me go (episode 05): Dark and moody indie rock rumbles as Nueng reels from his brutal outing, homophobia, and Ben’s betrayal before collapsing in Palm’s arms in the yellow of Bangkok polluted twilight.
Best score/ musical moment (with lyrics): “I can’t lose it all” by Ben Goldstein in The Eight Sense (episode 06) The singer belting “I’m losing my mind (…) I can’t lose it all” are the only words we hear for the last minutes of a great, hazy fugue of an episode. (Last spoken line: “To give you trauma” before the lovers start kissing.) Jae Won and Ji Hyun make love and when the song stops, I was left with greys waves, panic, and a burning “JAE WON WERE YOU OR WERE YOU NOT HIGH OUT OF YOUR MIND FOR ALL OF THIS? Was that song a call back to “Where is my mind” of Fight Club fame just to play with our nerves? Good times. //Runner up: “Monsoons” by Johannes Bornlöf and Le June in Never let me go. This song plays for two minutes straight as Palm sways drunkenly in his lover’s arms as he reels from his mother’s violent death. “Monsoon rain and chest pains”, blurry lens and sloppy, tear-soaked kissing. Peak lakorn.
Favorite couple: PalmNueng in Never let me go. // Runner up : KingUea in Bed Friend.
Favorite chemistry: PondPhuwin as Palmnueng, GMMtv true hidden gem. Runner up: Nat Chen and Jiang Dian as Chen Yi and Ai Di in Kiseki Dear to me.
Favorite individual performance: Film Thanapat in Laws of Attraction// Runner up: Mix Sahaphap in Moonlight Chicken.
Most beloved actor this year: Mark Pakin.
Favorite Ensemble: Moonlight Chicken // Runner up: The Warp Effect
Favorite mother figure: Grandma in Laws of Attraction. Amazing actress, well written (Grieving!) character. // Runner up: Ji Hyun’s boss in The eighth sense.
Favorite friendship: Pat and Chot in Step by Step! Pat’s whole friend group! // Runner up: Alex and Army in The Warp Effect.
Favorite siblings: The Gu siblings in Stay by my side. // Jeng and Jaab in Step by Step.
My hatred for you knows no bounds: Uea’s "mother" in Bed Friend. // Runner up: Phupha in The Promise EX AEQUO Tae Hyung in The eighth sense.
Most beloved character: Palm! My sweet boy! // Runner up: King! MY King!
Favorite “I love you”: “I LOVE YOU UNCLE JIM” Li Ming in Moonlight Chicken.
Favorite proposal: Charn being a lawyer and a marriage equality advocate while Tinn is just trying to marry the nutjob in Laws of Attraction.
Favorite wedding: TinnCharn and the baby’s doll on the chair (Tears!). Runner up: Palmnueng marrying by proxy while being guests at a gay wedding.
The category is “Boohoo snot bubble I’m dazed and crying”: The eighth Sense. Runner up: Moonlight Chicken.
The category is “I’ve watched this scene without breathing.”: Ji Hyun’s reaching for Jae Won’s hand in The eighth sense ep 09 // Runner up: Ki Tae confronting Lee Wan in episode 04 of Our dating Sim.
The category is “My cheeks are hurting I’m smiling so much”: Our dating Sim // Runner up: Love tractor.
Punchline: “Have you been well? Without me?” Ki Tae to Lee Wan Our dating Sim / “I miss you so much. I miss you so much” Fan Ze Rui to Bai Zong Yi Kiseki Dear to me.
Funny punchline: “You only love me when you do me.” Cher to Boss in A boss and a babe. // Runner up: “We can continue as a throuple” Rando in Laws of attraction.
Erotic honorific: “Call me Hia Win. Hia Win.” In Between Us. // “Can you tell Nong Cher what your present is Phi Gun” or “Phi Jeng” for “The kinkification of Phi” in A boss and a Babe and Step by Step.
The category is ‘What is this?!! A 90’s Yaoi Manga ?!!”: Kim Jong Chan’s (Korean actor Kwon Hyuk) Yaoi hands holding his lover’s whole head in his palm as they kiss in The New employee. // Runner up: Cho Jun’s ( Ki Hyun Woo) in a an all-black suit in Jun & Jun.
The category is "Whew why was this so hot ?" : Charn obscenely rubbing Tinn's arm up and down while Tinn is trying to punch him in Laws of Attraction// Runner up : Jae Won manhandling Baby Mouse by the straps of his backpack in The eighth sense.
Best smile: First Kanaphan as Sand in Only Friends // Nat Chen and his dimple as Chen Yi in Kiseki Dear to me.
Unfathomable eyes: Pond Naravit and his under-eye mole in Never let me go EX AEQUO Net Siraphop in Bed Friend.
Favorite dream sequence: Baby Ye Chan’s first erotic dream in Love Tractor.
Favorite kiss (on the lips): Palmnueng last kiss on the beach in episode 12 of NLMG. It’s soft and super erotic, there’s a bit of tongue, a bit of teeth and they are both shivering like crazy. Pondphuwin killed it and the magnificent Thai scenery finished it// Runner up: Bostonnick against the wall at the back of the store. Surprisingly Nick was the aggressor but was still moaning loud as hell. Neomark punched me in the face with their chemistry and hunger. Give them a good show and let them kiss. A lot.
Favorite kiss (not on the lips). Nueng burying his face between Palm’s shoulder blades to kiss his tattoo in the finale of NLMG. // Ze Rui rubbing and kissing Zong Yi’s beauty mark every chance he gets in Kiseki dear to me.
Favorite sniff kiss (special Thailand): Uncle Jim inhaling Wen’s face in Moonlight Chicken. Possibly the most erotic sniff kiss I have ever seen, shout out to Earth. // Runner up: Winteam having a HEAVY ratio of sniff kisses in their make-outs in Between Us.
Favorite neck kiss: Bed Friend’s King is the BL best neck kisser, licker, biter ever. Net being shorter than James made this even more enjoyable. // Ray being obsessed with Sand’s neck in Only Friends.
Favorite make out: JengPat car make out in Step by Step. Whew. // Runner up: WinTeam locker room make out. Whew.
Favorite erotic moment: Win seducing Team and making sure he is sober, single, and horny while fogging up the room in Between Us. // Runner up: I feel you linger in the air oil massage than orgasm to the memories of said oil massage.
Favorite O scene: Songkhram and Ai making love in Destiny Seeker. Who knew 69ing could be so cute? // Runner up: Ritsu and Masumi, I quote “going at it like monkeys” in The end of the world with you. Ritsu was a fuckboy from space but also like, a Japanese sex God.
Favorite cuddles: Winteam. In bed. Every single scene in Between Us // King clinging to Uea, dead asleep in the crook of his neck in Bed Friend.
Favorite hug: Li Ming hugging a sobbing Heart in Moonlight Chicken.
Favorite tears: WinTeam devastating sobs after Win saves his boo from drowning.
Favorite lift off: Ai Di spending one third of the show being carried by Chen Yi. // Runner up: Joke carrying Zo like he is not also 6ft1 in Hidden Agenda.
Favorite food : Love Mate's orgasmic post sex burgers and fries in episode 04.
That's my too long list of 2023 favorites. Hope you enjoy. @absolutebl and all of you booes are welcome to use the categories you like, please tag me in your lists. To a very bisexual (AND VAMPIRIC) 2024 together.
Chica.
#never let me go#between us#love tractor#the end of the world with you#my beautiful man#moonlight chicken#kiseki dear to me#Bed Friend#Our dating Sim#the new employee#Jun and Jun#Stay by my side#Destiny Seeker#the eighth sense#step by step#a boss and a babe#laws of attraction#The promise the series#The Warp effect#Only Friends#Thai BL#Japanese bl#Taiwanese bl#Korean BL#Best of 2023#love mate#hidden agenda#i feel you linger in the air
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Paris: A Year Abroad in a short film
Audio: "Burnt Norton" by Lana Del Rey, a rendition of the original poem "Burnt Norton" by T.S. Eliot.
Where do I even start? Paris has wholly shaped me in ways I never imagined. We refer to Paris as the city of love, but I'm now more inclined to call it the city of art - which only leaves more room for love in your heart. There is so much to contemplate and appreciate in frequenting the vast array of art museums here - from the Louvre, Musée d’Orsay, Musée de l’Orangerie, the Centre Georges Pompidou, and many more. Not only has my perspective on art expanded, but so has my worldview. That’s because art is truly everywhere in this city; art can be found in the walkable streets amidst the rich architecture, the fashionable outfits seen in daily life, and even the exquisite decor in stores and when you cheekily peek into Parisian appartments!
There's always something new to discover in Paris, I'm almost saddened at the thought of the things I've yet to discover or missed. The treasures to unveil in Paris move far beyond the typical tourist hotspots we all know and love. I am obsessed with Parisian boutiques; they are chic and unique (that unintentionally rhymed) in the best way possible. One of my favourites is La Tonkinoise à Paris, located in the 11th arrondissement. This particular arrondissmenet is the best in Paris to be honest, it holds a special place in my heart as I had the wonderful opportunity of living there, so perhaps you can say that I am somewhat biased. Still, I can confidently say that this animated, hip and creative neighbourhood is one everyone should have the chance to explore.
La Tonkinoise à Paris, owned by the lovely Chantal, is my favourite hidden gem in Paris. I had the pleasure of befriending Chantal as I ended up frequenting her store one too many times; I've garnered quite a collection over time. This boutique offers a wide range of eccentric and sustainable jewellery, with her earring creations being the show stoppers, in my opinion. Her jewellery is composed of rings, pearls, brooches, charms, and watches, all unearthed in flea markets and recycled. I love that every piece of jewellery indeed is a unique piece. The decor changes based on the season and theme of her new collections, making it an ever-changing and exciting shopping experience. This is honestly the best jewellery store I have ever been to in my life! I wish the pictures I took could do the jewellery and the boutique's decor justice, but it simply won't, I'm afraid.
Now, onto food, I genuinely need to figure out where to start here. My favourite authentic French restaurant would have to be 'Le Potager du Père Thierry', located in Montmartre. Although it's incredibly small, I love the cosy vibe; I feel like I can enjoy delicious food with friends without feeling surrounded by strangers. Surprisingly, it's also very quiet (yet packed) - I guess the food is just too distracting.
As of late, my favourite non-french restaurant has to be 'Big Black Cook' (let's ignore how inappropriate that pun is, though funny). It's located in the 2nd arrondissement and serves Caribbean food, my friend claims that it was the best meat she's had!
For brunch, I recommend Café Méricourt in the 11th arrondissement. Their green Eggs & Feta are absolutely incredible and quite innovative as far as brunch places go.
As for a boulangerie - seriously, anywhere, literally anywhere in Paris, go to your nearest bakery; there need not be a big fuss - you're in for a scrumptious baked treat regardless!
I'm ever so grateful for the chance to have lived in Paris for an extended period; you cannot appreciate Paris in its entire splendour from a mere short-term visit. The city is an actual work of art; art is everywhere in the city, from the street performers and musicians, the light filters through the trees, the city's many architecturally rich bridges, the picturesque cafés and boulangeries, the beautifully presented food, the way that the city's many different neighbourhoods each have their own distinct character and vibe. In Paris, art is everywhere.
#paris#short film#year abroad#france#travel#paris france#lana del rey#burnt norton#my film#film#fragments#memoirs#art#french art#boutiqueshopping#arrondissement#architecture#interior design#decor#decoration#parisian style#fashion#tour eiffel#montmartre#street art#parisian#louvre#musee d'orsay#french food#foodie
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I dont think anyone subscribes to you for t rated 5 +1s in your own au lol. Chop chop with those wip’s porn girl!
Well. Quite a bit to unpack here on an otherwise unassuming Friday!
#1:
#2: I actually track this stuff. Admittedly the E-rated percentage is a bit higher if you look at RWRB only, but overall...
#3: I think anyone who subscribes to me on AO3, or indeed anyone who follows the kiwiana-writes tag here on tumblr and sees all those fucking WIPs, knows that I like to write a bit of variety. That's not to say there aren't definite underpinnings of, like, themes and vibes that I return to over and over (which I can only assume are why people subscribe to me), but if someone only likes my college AUs, or only likes my post-canon stuff, or only likes my E-rated stuff, or only wants to listen to my podfics, they're probably going to have a much more successful time saving the tag search than subscribing to me at the author level. Or they've mastered the art of archiving and moving on without complaining about it, like I do when the authors I'm subscribed to write something that doesn't interest me. It's a useful skill! I highly recommend cultivating it.
#4: AO3 not giving series stats is and continues to be the bane of my life, but based on the number of people who subscribed to the OG actor AU, there's probably a significant chunk of people who aren't subscribed to me as an author and only want the actor AU verse stuff. And good for them! I LOVE that AO3 offers multiple ways to subscribe so you can get notified for the stuff you want (my kingdom for the ability to subscribe to individual pseuds, though.)
#5: This fandom is OVERFLOWING right now. Like, I can't keep up. You only want to read E-rated stuff? Awesome! Well over 100 E-rated fics have been posted in the RWRB bookverse tag just this week (it looks like most of the movieverse smut has also been tagged bookverse, but either way it's also very easy to find). Or go back to older fics and find some hidden gems—there's nothing an author loves more than for someone to come in and gush about a fic they wrote a year or two ago.
#6: You don't pay me, and I'm not subject to annual review. One of my favourite authors was talking this morning about how sometimes she thinks about taking a break from writing for RWRB because it's starting to feel a little rat racey, and that would suck for me personally because I love her stuff but god knows I couldn't blame her, because the (extreme minority but still exhausting) entitled comments and rudeness really do not help. Stop treating your favourite authors like content creators who owe you something new on a regular schedule, because that's a damn good way to ensure they don't want to create anything new ever again. Like... anon, you haven't even bothered to couch this in a compliment. The bar is ten feet underground and somehow you still managed to trip over it.
#7: Not to be all 'back in my day' but... well, back in my day, snippets and peeks into the universe of a remotely popular longfic were pretty much the standard lol. Nobody is forcing you to read them, I promise.
#8: I've posted two E-rated fics in the last two weeks.
#9: Honestly I just really want to reiterate #1 because what the hell lol. While pronouns don't equal gender, it's pretty reasonable to extrapolate from pronouns if you don't have any other info to go on—and of the three "main/standard" pronouns, the one most closely associated with 'girl' is the only one that ISN'T in my bio 🤦
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I was searching but not for you
pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader
summary: Aemond is eager to catch the thief who keeps stealing his gemstones but the person in question seems to always be one step ahead of him.
words: ~ 4000
author’s note: about two months ago, I got the idea to write short stories inspired by the songs I like. this idea may totally flop, but I already wrote a few one-shots so I might as well post them somewhere. you can skip the song but I think it helps with ✨ the vibes ✨ P.S. don’t read the translation from French right away
song inspo: Leagues — Walking Backwards (Spotify / YouTube)
>>> The first time it happens, it’s blindsiding — he gets a call in the middle of the night, and the words are rushed and the voice on the other end of the phone is panicking. Aemond sits up against the head of his bed, silky linen softy sliding down his chest, and the sleep is still clinging to his skin, and he can’t quite understand what’s going on. Surely, it sounds like a bad joke — someone broke into his office, someone found his safe. He’s the only one who knows the contents of the locked metal box, and he cherishes it very deeply. He doesn’t easily let go of the things he loves.
In about five minutes, his car roars through the empty streets, his heart is racing, his body fueled by the adrenaline that eats up the remnants of his sleepiness. Aemond all but runs — in the building, in the elevator, on the right floor. The security team looks so baffled, he almost wants to laugh. And then he sees it — his safe, accurately opened and seemingly not emptied. Because the uncut diamond in it didn’t take much space, and now it is, indeed, missing. There’s a note left, written in cursive so perfect, it looks as mocking as the words on it:
“A safe hidden behind a painting? Honestly, that’s just bad taste.”
His shock turns into anger in the blink of an eye.
>>> The fact that someone dared to steal from him is offensive enough, but the stolen gemstone also holds a special meaning — it’s the first one he’s ever bought with his own money, by himself, for himself. It’s not the biggest one he owns, not the rarest color or the most high-priced, but the auction it was sold at dragged for almost two hours, and the very last bidder was too persistent for his liking. Finally winning felt so good, it was addicting. Losing that very thing felt like a punch, and he hadn’t missed a single one before.
>>> He changes the locks and tightens security, but there are no leads — nothing on his cameras, and no one saw a thing. He begrudgingly tells Helaena about it when she finds a moment to check up on him in between hosting countless exhibitions in her gallery. That very gallery also stores one of his gems, so he wants to take precautions, just in case.
His sister brings him croissants and sips on matcha while listening to him, worry sawn onto her face. She reassures him she’ll be alert, she’s empathetic as ever. She then enthusiastically goes to tell him all about the new layout for the Van Gogh collection she’ll put on display next month. Her cheerful babbling gives him an hour-long reprieve from his inner torment.
On her way out, Helaena stops, her brows furrowing:
“Do you know who owned the diamond before you?”
“There were no details on the owner,” Aemond shrugs. “I only know his collection had to be auctioned for debts which definitely drove down the price.”
She gives him a heartfelt smile:
“I’ll ask around, then.”
>>> Someone steals the sapphire from her gallery precisely a week after their conversation. The gem of 150 carats is protected with armored glass and kept in a separate hall, but no alarms are triggered the night it disappears. Helaena only finds out in the morning and sends him a photo of an empty stand. When Aemond arrives at the gallery, police are already at the scene. They all wear the same confused expression.
“There’s no footage on the cameras,” his sister explains, perplexed. Then squints at him: “But they left a note.”
Aemond swallows down an annoyed grunt and spends ten minutes answering a pointless sequence of questions. Only then he gets to see the thing he’s most curious about. The piece of paper says:
“Your taste is better when it comes to gems. The exhibition looks great, by the way!”
He passes it on his way back — it’s a collection of some Swedish artist he’s never heard of. The painting closest to him is called “The Lady with the Veil”, and the woman on the canvas looks at him with a sly smile.
>>> The third time can take the prize for being the most ridiculous one. He made the purchase only two days ago — a pink diamond of exceptional purity, and the transfer is arranged in the strictest secrecy. He gives instructions, he hires two guards for the ride; he’s counting minutes. Aemond has a lurking suspicion that something is off when the delivery is 15 minutes late. But then the courier finally walks in, hands him the box locked with a digital code, and Aemond tenses up in anticipation. The second he opens it, his mouth falls slack.
“Are you kidding me?!” he roars — the box is empty, with only a pink ribbon left inside.
The courier shrivels at the sound and apologizes profusely. And then admits that they made a stop on their way. He says they went down the wrong route — because of some glitch in his GPS — and ended up at the wrong house. It took the man a couple of minutes to realize his mistake and come back to the truck. He has no explanation for why he thought that taking both guards with him was in any way a good idea, but he swears that the driver never left the vehicle.
To add to Aemond’s anguish, the two policemen sent to his place seem to be positively stupid. Not only do they not understand the concept of digital locks, but they also don’t grasp the gravity of the situation. One of them scribbles something in his notebook, then scratches his head with a pen, then asks:
“Are you sure it’s not just a case of miscommunication?”
Aemond is sure that he’s never been this close to strangling a law enforcement officer. He gives the cops a tight-lipped smile and sends them away, and he is still left with no information to get things off the ground. He’s also a little bitter that there was no note this time.
He’s staring at the empty box with a brooding frown when he feels his phone vibrating. It’s a text from his sister:
“There are rumors that the man you’ve got your diamond from was some tech developer. His identity was sealed by court order :( But maybe this will be of use? xx”
Aemond rereads the message, then ponders for a minute. That may explain all the technical malfunctions that he suspects were not accidental. It also gives him an idea.
>>> He orders his security team to look through all the street cameras along the route. Buff guys crash at his office, dragging in every monitor they can find, and strain their eyes to catch anything. Aegon volunteers to help although he mostly spends his time roaming around the room with a bottle of beer, leaving his fingerprints on every glassy surface.
Just as Aemond has hoped, they find the person of interest at the first stop the courier made. Except the video gives them no clue who they are looking at. The men watch as someone — wearing all black, their face covered — quietly sneaks to the truck, opens it and gets in, squirreling through the gap between the back doors. They do that with such ease, Aemond won’t be surprised to see them using a magic wand. The driver spends that time singing along to some rap song blasting in the car.
Aegon notices the strained silence and gets closer, then focuses on the footage. And then he starts cracking with laughter.
“Hey, it’s a woman!” he exclaims. “I know one when I see one!”
All the security guys lean toward the cameras and watch the recording again, following her movements and tilting their heads to the left in unison like some hypnotized owls.
“Well, that does look... like a female body,” one of them mumbles, others humming in agreement, eyes still glued to the screens.
Aemond feels the secondhand embarrassment creeping in and quietly growls, facepalming. He catches Aegon’s gaze, and his brother chuckles, his eyes crinkled.
“Man, you must’ve really fucked up for her to go after you like that,” Aegon whispers with a grin. “Is it bad that I’m kinda rooting for her now?”
Aemond can’t think of a single person who would want to cross him, let alone a woman. He’s not one to fool around or break hearts, and his own stays closed, and no one ever made it flutter. Incomprehension stirs up his thoughts the way a storm does the sea.
“So what’s your plan?” Aegon’s voice brings him back to reality.
“I’ll tell you when I have one,” Aemond sighs. “What I definitely don’t plan on doing is buy another diamond,” he swirls the phone in his hand like he always does when he’s agitated.
Aegon finishes his beer, then looks at the screens again.
“But you still have enough gemstones,” he drawls.
“Enough for what?” Aemond raises a brow at him.
“To get her interest,” his brother smirks. “Don’t you think?”
Aemond lets Aegon’s words sink in until he grasps the meaning behind them, and the suggestion leaves a hint of a smile on his lips. He instantly dials his sister:
“Hel, can you do me a favor? I want to hold an exhibition. It’s gonna be the most expensive one you’ve ever had.”
“Show-off,” Aegon mutters, rolling his eyes.
>>> The gallery is located at the end of the central street, overlooking a small canal with charming tour boats, with blossoming cherry trees planted along the way. Aemond plans everything down to the last detail — every camera’s placement, every guard’s position, he learns all the ins and outs of the building. The day before the event, his nerves are on edge, his mind restless, and he makes an irrational decision to stop by the gallery to take a quick look around. He warps between halls and examines the stands — all while answering countless calls he’s been bombarded with since someone leaked the story of his misfortunes to the press.
He’s looking at the layout of the upper floor, flipping through the pages, his smartphone pressed up against his ear when he rounds the corner — and suddenly crashes into someone. The phone slips out, papers scatter around, and he instinctively puts out a hand, and it rests upon another body, their skin warm against his fingers. He hears a surprised voice:
“Oh, excusez-moi!” and then it gets softer. “Je ne m’attendais pas à ce que tu sois là *.”
When Aemond glances down, he is left speechless.
A woman is looking at him, her parted lips curled up in a light smile, her features gentle, face expression amused. There’s a hint of mischief in her eyes, an alluring gleam of mystery he is instantly drawn to solve. She’s only wearing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, and yet he thinks he’s never seen a sight so pretty. His hand stays on her waist, his thumb sneaked under the white material. He wants to keep it there.
She shamelessly studies his face until her gaze grazes his lips — curiously, intrigued — then she looks up.
“I am horribly clumsy, my apologies,” she finally says, her voice low and dulcet, and hands Aemond his phone and a couple of papers. He completely missed the moment when she somehow managed to catch all that.
“Makes two of us,” he utters, reluctantly removing his palm from the bend of her waistline. The touch of her hand compensates for it — their fingers brush, but it’s fleeting and it leaves him wanting more.
She helps him pick the rest of his papers off the floor, not giving him a chance to protest. She’s nimble and smiley, he is tacit and stunned.
“The preparations for the exhibit seem quite extensive,” she remarks, looking around, standing carelessly close to him but not close enough. “You put in a lot of work,” she casts a glance at him, and Aemond’s cheeks heat up.
“I had a lot of help,” he modestly brushes off the compliment, but his eye never leaves her face, and he doesn’t want to leave, either. There is no explanation for this feeling, for this need, for how flustered and tongue-tied he is.
“I should let you get back to it, then,” she takes a step back, moving out of his reach, and he can’t find a reason to make her stay for a bit longer.
“Do you plan on coming?” Aemond asks, and in any other case, he would’ve found the desperation in his voice to be embarrassing. Right now, he couldn’t care less.
She turns to look at him and holds his gaze for a good few seconds. She isn’t smiling but there’s laughter in her eyes when she says:
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” and then walks out.
His phone buzzes again, a string of unread notifications popping up on the screen. But it’s the girl with a velvety voice that hooks his attention like nothing else. He didn’t think to question what she was doing in the gallery.
>>> The exhibition is a bit too crowded, and Aemond scurries between the halls and watches the gemstones like a hawk, looking out for anyone suspicious. He tries to persuade himself it’s the only reason he peers into the crowd; it’s not. He also can’t help but wait for a certain person, for a very specific face to show up.
But minutes pass by and soon turn into an hour and then into two, and he almost gives up.
He stares blankly at one of the gems — Colombian emerald, a hundred carats of the purest green, — he was ecstatic to get his hands on it, and yet right now it looks dull, and it brings him no joy. He sees a gleam of the same color out of the corner of his eye and disregards it at first, but then he casts his gaze to the side, and his breathing hitches.
She did come, and when he sees her, his heart not only skips a bit but does a full-on salto.
Her dress is brighter than any emerald — the material flows, following every curve of her body, with a coyly slit up to the middle of her thigh. The waves of her hairdo fall to one side, and his eye trails her collarbones, the line of her neck, and moves up to her lips that are blooming red, radiant like rubies. She is so beautiful, all the gemstones pale in comparison, and he can’t tear his gaze away.
She goes straight to Aemond as if there are no other people in the gallery — she maneuvers between them but only looks at him, a familiar smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“It’s safe to say your efforts paid off,” she gestures at the crowd when she’s at arm’s reach. “I think congratulations are in order,” the words flow from her lips like honey.
He blinks a few times, then comes to his senses and finds his voice.
“Thank you,” he musters in response. “I suspect the gems are to blame,” he remarks and tries to put on his usual cold self-restraint. She isn’t having any of it.
“With so many of them, I can’t decide what to look at first,” she comes closer, boldly and unabashed, and he’s enveloped in her perfume, in the warmth of her gaze. He takes the hint.
“I can give you a tour,” he offers, and her smile grows wider. Then her eyes glide over the emerald, and she taps on the protective glass:
“This one seems rather pricey.”
“It was,” Aemond agrees, clasping hands behind his back, very pleased with himself. “Comes from the Muzo mines, a square octagon-cut 100.2-carat emerald.”
“The shape does help to convey the color depth of the stone,” she hums with satisfaction, but her eyes are on Aemond again. Seeing his questioning look, she adds: “The cut of a gem is what determines its value, isn’t it?”
He only manages to nod because her thigh brushes his, and he doesn’t even pretend to pay attention to the gemstone. Neither does she, taking him by the arm:
“So, what’s next on our tour?”
>>> He guides her from one display to the other, and they move further away from the crowd, into smaller halls, less noisy and dimly lit, the gemstones being the only bright spot in each room. She asks questions, and their conversation flows, but he quickly notes that she knows more than she’s letting on.
“You seem well-versed on the topic yourself,” Aemond assumes as they take a stop in front of yet another stand. The yellow diamond on it catches the light and sparkles like a little sun.
“My father held a great appreciation for gemstones of all sorts,” she reveals, with a tinge of sadness in her voice. “I guess I’ve learned a thing or two from him.”
“Are you a collector too?”
She softly laughs, and her gaze turns playful:
“I value the rare beauty of them but... I think I find the buying process more exciting. It’s all about the chase,” she murmurs, leaning into him just a bit.
She’s mesmerizing, she’s a charade, and he’s captivated beyond understanding. But before he can say anything else, a loud noise shatters the silence between them — the fire alarm goes off. А monotone voice on the speaker orders everyone to leave the building.
“That’s odd,” Aemond mumbles, more to himself. He hears people’s voices in the distance and gently takes her by the hand. “We should go too.”
“Maybe it’s a false alarm?” she doesn’t move. “I am sure the security will turn it off in a minute. With how well this place is guarded, you have nothing to worry about, right?”
It dawns on Aemond that he didn’t think once about the safety of the gemstones in the last hour, and it’s just as concerning as the unexpected evacuation. To add to his worry, the overhead lighting goes off.
“We should wait for the emergency generator to kick in,” she suggests, not bothered in the slightest. He should find it weird, but he can only think of how close she is, how the faint light from the display contours her face.
“Um, it will take — ”
“About three minutes,” she finishes up for him. “We just need to find a way to pass the time.”
“I think I’ve told you all there is to know about the collection,” Aemond lightly chuckles. “Unless you got any other ideas?”
“Well, I don’t usually do that but...,” she says quietly, looking up at him as her hand lies on his shoulder, then slowly moves to his neck.
“Do what?” he is caught off guard, he can’t concentrate on anything other than the movement of her palm. “Do you want to —”
“You talk too much,” she interrupts him with a smile, her finger tugging at the collar of his shirt, and then her lips cover his, and the words die down on his tongue, and all the sounds disappear.
Her lips are rubies but they feel like silk, intoxicating like wine, and before he can think it over, he kisses her back, and he can’t think of anything else, and his hands find her waist so easily he wishes to never keep them away. She allows him to lead this time, to set the pace, his fingers tugging her closer, his mouth fervid — and he’s insatiable, and he wants to leave her as breathless as he is. He succeeds in that.
When they part, the light is already on.
“I didn’t mean to take your attention away from your precious stones,” she breathes out.
“I think I got a hold of another one,” Aemond trails for her lips, but she laughs against his mouth.
“I meant actual gems.”
“I can recognize a real gem from a fake one,” he retorts and brushes away a strand of her hair that fell loose.
“Can you?” she throws him a cunning look and bites her lower lip. “Oh, Aemond,” she then gets quiet, almost hesitant, her gaze hinting at something unsaid, something important. “You should’ve let me make the last bid,” she whispers all of a sudden.
He stares at her in confusion, and there’s a ringing concern in the back of his head, a nascent hunch. Simultaneously, another realization kicks in:
“You never told me your name,” Aemond finally grasps.
“And you never told me yours, you just assumed I knew it,” she’s not offended, she is very much enjoying it. “I did,” she traces the contour of his jaw with her index finger.
He’s about to say something else when they hear hurried footsteps approaching.
“Mr. Targaryen, we were hoping you would — Oh,” the guard falls silent upon seeing them. The man reads the room and gets clearly abashed but Aemond doesn’t.
“I would what?” he asks, unfazed, not removing his hand from her waist.
“I just wanted to inform you it was a false alarm, but we are going through the cameras to look for any suspicious activity,” the guard explains, then holds a pause. “Maybe you would want to join us?”
Aemond looks at her, his face expression apologetic, but she doesn’t make an issue out of it.
“You should go,” she encourages. “Make sure that everything is fine.”
He doesn’t want to but he has to, they both know that. What he doesn’t know is why he feels the need to make promises to the woman he’s only met twice.
“It will only be a couple of minutes,” his hand glides down and captures hers.
“Take your time,” her thumb careless his palm, and then she lets him go. He feels her gaze on him on the way out.
>>> Aemond walks through the empty halls and corridors, catching a glimpse of Helaena and Aegon standing outside with all the guests, his brother’s hand draped over her shoulder, both laughing at something. He’s glad that everyone is safe — he is also glad that Aegon won’t get a chance to tease him. Aemond is pretty sure there’s a red hue left on his lips but he only thinks of it when he walks into the security room, and it’s too late to wipe it off.
“Anything caught your attention?” he nonchalantly asks the guards that are watching the security footage.
“Nothing so far,” one of them informs. “The evacuation went without complications, took us about seven minutes — started with the green hall, all according to the plan,” he proudly states. Aemond absentmindedly nods.
“And what was it with the light?”
“Oh, that,” the man frowns. “Something set off the emergency reboot of the system. All our guys were outside, so we sent one of the security men who stayed back at the site to check the generator.”
That string of words bothers Aemond.
“Stayed at the site — you mean, in one of the halls?” he guesses. “Which one was it?”
“The green one, it’s closest to the basement,” the guard tells him without a second thought.
Aemond thinks of the floor plan, then counts the minutes in his head. Then he realizes:
“So the emerald remained unguarded the longest.”
>>> He’s the first one to run out of the room — and the first one to reach the green hall, his heart racing. But, despite his worst fears, the gem is still there. Untouched, big, green, dull.
... Dull.
Aemond watches it silently, and the gears in his head start turning faster. He comes up to the stand, eye fixed on the emerald.
“Take it out,” he asks, his tone commanding. “Now.”
A member of the staff gets the gem from under the glass cover, and Aemond takes the emerald in his hand, then turns his phone’s flashlight on. Under direct light, the jewel radiates a rainbow of colors, bright and iridescent. Just like plain glass. To prove his theory further, he drags the bezel of his platinum watch over the stone’s surface — and it leaves a very evident scratch.
Someone gasps behind his back, and there’s no need to say it out loud. Still, he does:
“It’s fake,” Aemond concludes.
The invited jewelry expert holds a hand to his heart.
“But it’s not possible! Not possible,” he muses. “The cameras were on for the duration of the day, we’ve got the footage right here!”
They were on today, but not the day before, Aemond notes. He drags out all the pieces of information he can think of — coincidences, memories, words:
“The man you’ve got your diamond from was some tech developer,”
“My father held a great appreciation for the gemstones,”
“The preparations seem extensive,”
“It’s all about the chase,”
“You should’ve let me make the last bid,”
— and the puzzle comes together.
“God damn it,” he says under his breath, closing his eye.
And then, while everyone looks clueless, Aemond lets out a laugh. There is no anger in it — if anything, he feels relieved. For him, the chase has gotten quite tiresome. But oh so worth it, he thinks.
“You can put it back and invite everyone in,” Aemond gives the emerald to the expert who seems doubtful.
“But what of its authenticity?”
“Well, just don’t let anyone take it out and put it under a flashlight,” Aemond sneers. Then he turns to the guards: “Can you show me the yellow hall?”
When he sees the place empty, he rushes out without another word.
>>> The sunset spreads over the sky, flooding it with orange and crimson, and Aemond searches for her in the crowd and in the street but to avail at first. His eye roves over the mass of faces, bodies, vehicles passing by — and then falls on the other side of the canal. He recognizes her in a heartbeat.
She changed back into jeans and a t-shirt, with a leather jacket thrown over, a black motorbike parked next to her. The wind ruffles waves of her hair and the hem of her shirt, and Aemond wishes he could sneak his hands under it again. He doesn’t know if she sees him in the side mirror or if she feels his gaze — he hopes it’s the latter — but she turns to him, and their eyes meet.
She flashes him a smile that lits up her whole face and then turns into laughter. Aemond can’t hear her but he remembers the sound of it, and the corners of his mouth tilt up. It feels like there’s no distance separating them, no people, and no channel of water strewn with fallen cherry blossoms. She taps at the pocket of her jacket and points at him — he looks down at his suit and in a second he catches on to what she means. Aemond puts a hand in his pocket and finds a piece of paper inside. It’s small and gently folded, it’s the same cursive he’ll recognize anywhere:
“Didn’t get a chance to tell you last time — you really should invest in a better security system.
Makes me wonder how good is the one you have at home. Maybe I should check it out.
Until next time, Y/N.”
When he looks up, she’s already left, but the smile doesn’t leave his face.
He doesn’t know if it’s a challenge or a date.
But he can’t wait to see her again.
* “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t expect you to be here.”
✧ the original dress in all its glory
✧ “The Lady with the Veil”
💕 another fic where the girl makes the first step
🔞 another fic with a green dress
💚 my masterlist
English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!
#aemond targaryen#depression sucks the joy out of writing for me but here I am#did I look through 800 PAGES of my art encyclopedia to find the painting that I only mention ONCE?#yes I did being a perfectionist is so much fun#ALSO I realized I either write super slow burn or I go from 1 to 100 immediately there’s no in between lmao#my stuff#aemond x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond one eye#aemond one eye x y/n#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen fanfics#aemond targaryen fics#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond modern au#hotd modern au#aemond fanfiction#hotd fanfiction
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I'm not sure if you're still doing those, butttt
Bathtub Fic x Sick/Injured or Scars Fic for Elucien 😁
For you…YES!!
Bathtub Fic & Sick/Injured or Scars
For the scene, I am going to take us to the Winter Court. Perhaps it is a part of their journey to Koschei or to explore her Seer powers—early in the relationship, with the barest shreds of trust between them—and somewhere along the travels, they encounter the infamous hot springs of Winter.
Picture mountains and snow and nuzzled deep within the white, icy forests lay natural hot springs. Lucien has been here of course from his emissary days. He explains the benefits and urges Elain that she simply must try out this particular hidden gem—that there is none like it in all of Pythian. She agrees nervously. And her eyes go wide as she watches Lucien begin to strip off all his clothes.
Elain blushed, turning around instantly. “What are you doing?” She squeaked. “Well, I’m certainly not going to get my clothes wet in this cold and the hot springs are best enjoyed naturally.” Lucien laughed and she could hear him kick off his shoes and pants behind her. Then the sound of water splashing as he entered, quickly followed by a near moan from Lucien’s lips. “Come on, Elain. It’s incredible. I promise I won’t look, lady. On my honor.”
It’s enough to make Elain bite her lip and consider. It did seem incredible. And she had dreamed of traveling the world her entire life. She couldn’t be a coward now that she was here. “Turn around!” She barked her command, and only once her mate confirmed he was indeed facing the other direction with his eyes closed did she begin to undo her dress, stockings, and boots. Without a single article of clothing, she raced into the water before the shivers overtook her body. And indeed it was amazing. A similar relaxed moan tumbled out of her mouth as she sank into the warm, steamy waters.
They were back to back, because Elain didn’t have the courage to do it any different. To bare herself to him. Not with the amount of desire she secretly harbored inside. Even if the water came up right to the swell of her breasts. But even like this, she could sense his smile. His comfort. They talked leisurely and at length. Now that they were finally spending time together, she was caught off guard by how easily he could make her laugh. It was at one particularly wicked joke that her body curved and her skin made contact with his back.
Immediately she felt the scars. Ridges upon ridges of marks across his back. They both flinched instantly. Elain from the surprise and Lucien no doubt from the sorrow and pain embedded deep with every scar.
There’s no other thought except concern surging through her veins as she whips around, breaking her own rules, to face his back. He is frozen, as if he’s been caught. Shame? Elain can’t stop the gasp as she takes in his whipped back. “Who—how—” She is shaking even if the water is so unnaturally hot, leaving her pale skin red with the heat.
“Punishment when I was Under the Mountain.” He answers. Elain reaches for his back, running her fingers across every single mark. He does not move. There’s so much she can see now. The history like a constellation across his shoulder blades and spine. The pain etched in his skin, one of loyalty and bravery and suffering, so much like the matching one on his eye. She can see the corded muscles taut with restraint. The curve of his ass just below the water’s surface. His long molten, red hair curtained over his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. And she means it. She’s sorry for what happened. The primal, visceral part of the mating bond wants to avenge him. Wants to make it as if it never happened. And she’s sorry for all the distance she had once kept between them, when all he had were these scars to keep him company all this time.
Elain wraps her arms around his middle, fingers gliding over the defined abs of his stomach, one hand grazing against the strong, tone muscle of his chest. She kisses his shoulder, right at one of the scars. The another and another and another.
And maybe, just maybe, she’s working up the courage to spin him around and kiss him elsewhere.
#elucien#FADE TO BLACK#kiss him on the mouth or more south you say?#we’ll never know unless i end up writing the full thing which i very well might#ask games
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Thus Always to Tyrants
Chapter 2: Secrecy and Shadows
Gem is the commander of the Wintertide royal army, Grian is the leader of a resistance hell bent on taking the crown down no matter the cost. It was only natural that they would become enemies.
Chapter 1 -> next (tba)
Read on ao3 ❀ here ❀
CW: Alcohol consumption
Words: 5,682
Pov: Grian
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“Head back to the hideout and wait for me there, Scar.” Grian addressed his companion. “I’ll meet you there later tonight to update you on the situation as soon as the meeting comes to an end and we’ll proceed from there.”
“So bossy,” Scar said, and Grian could hear the pout on his lips without having to look at him. Regardless of his (most likely dramatized) complaining, however, he did indeed leap from the roof to do as he was told, fading away into the shadows of the setting sun.
Grian waited a moment before dropping back down into the alley he and Gem had fought in, his cloak billowing up around him on the way down. It still smelt of smoke in the small space, though most of the visual remnants had cleared out by now. He pulled his hood back up over his head, hiding away his feathers and obscuring his features as best as the thick fabric could.
There was at least a quarter hour of sunlight left in the sky, so that meant he had just as much time to burn before he was meant to meet with his someone who could make or break his plan. And he knew exactly how he was going to spend it.
He reentered the festival area, the overwhelming noise and smell bearing down on him in an instant. Grease, spices, perfumes, body odor, and more all punctuated by the ear ringing sound of laughter, bartering, and arguing. He could not claim to be a fan of any of it, nor could he claim to want to be here on this day, but, well, scheduling just works out in ways one does not like sometimes, and as a result he had no choice but to be out and about on a horrid day like this.
He made his way through the tightly packed crowd, moving fluidly between the warm bodies that stood between him and his objective. Grian was the average size and build of an avian of his kind, but he was smaller than the average person of any other race, so it was easy for him to maneuver his way through just about any obstacle, including the living ones.
He slid effortlessly into the shadows with his back against the backside of some kind of tent, likely a changing or storage area for performers. He peaked around the bend and spotted the Commander and her entourage immediately. They were alert and uneasy where they stood close to the stage. They monitored the area with careful eyes, ready for anything, for anyone. But he wasn’t just anyone. He had long ago learned to stay silent and hidden when he did not want to be found. His ears perked up at the sound of the Commander's voice.
“Patience, Scott. This is delicate information; I can’t risk letting it slip to the wrong person. We must wait for the arrival of his majesty before I am to utter a single word more on the subject.” She whispered, Grian’s ears just barely picking up on the quiet words.
“But if it is as grave as you appear to believe it is, I worry that we don’t have the time for you to wait for him to be present.” The blue haired man whispered back, though his pitch was louder than Gem’s, making him incredibly easy to hear in comparison. He did have a point, as well. If Grian’s plan really was going to take place sooner rather than later, she should be acting now. What was her reasoning behind being so secretive about it?
“No, Grian isn’t like that,” She interjected. Oh? “He wouldn’t tell me about a big grand plan and then immediately act upon it so soon after the fact. He knows I would be on high alert after something like that, so he will wait even if it means he gives us a chance to prepare, because the longer he waits the more likely we are to let our guard down.
“Not to mention, we’ve not a single clue what we are even preparing for, and he knows that. If we rush in head on, even if he were to act right now, we would have no idea what we are getting ourselves into. No, If I had to guess, whatever it is he has planned will not take place until the King’s speech or even later after it. And that is assuming it has anything to do with the festival at all, which I am beginning to doubt. We have time, and we are going to use it to clear our heads of the initial panic and wait for the King.”
Grian let himself smirk at the assessment, impressed. She was right of course, just as she usually was. He wasn’t planning on doing anything just yet, and what he did have in mind for today was something she wouldn’t suspect regardless, nor was it something she could stop unless she knew where to look. He knew without a doubt in his mind, as well, that she didn’t know where to look.
“You know that I am not one to doubt your mind, but are you sure about this? We all know what he is capable of. Should we be taking the chance?” The taller man with the nubby horns asked in a nervous manner.
Do you truly know what I am capable of? Grian wondered to himself, already knowing the answer.
Gem put her hand on the older man’s shoulder and said with sincerity “Trust me, old friend. I would not do anything I thought would put us, or anyone else here, in danger.”
This seemed to quell at least some of the man’s unease, because they fell into silence shortly thereafter.
Grian knew that Gem was still anxious herself despite the confident front she put on in front of her group of knights; the way she shifted from foot to foot and glanced around while twirling a stray strand of hair hanging in her face was a dead giveaway of this. Not many would notice these nervous habits unless they were looking for them. In fact, he knew it was likely that she made attempts to hide these shows of weakness to those around her, and she hid them well enough. It was simply that Grian had spent far too much time observing her, and anyone else who might be a threat, to not notice them easily.
She was nervous, but she was good at playing brave and making sure everyone else's nerves were calmed; a skill that any good leader should possess. The crown really was lucky to have her on their side, Grian thought with a note of bitterness.
Speak of the devil and he shall arrive, here comes the king now.
The crowd, previously an eclectic buzz of ear grating noises combined into one, quickly turned to unanimous cheers and murmurs of excitement, though if he focused hard enough, he could also hear some poorly concealed comments of contempt from some festival goers that made him snicker to himself. The crowd turned almost as one, and Grian followed their gaze over to none other than King Ren himself.
The thicket of people in the square parted to make way for the large, white horse which he rode upon. The stead was draped in riches almost as grand as his own attire, looking every bit the royal transportation that it was. Grian had to hold himself back from sneering at the way he held himself, back as straight as a board and head upturned so he was able to look down his nose at the common folk.
His jewel encrusted crown sparkled in the quickly fading sun, scattering fragments of colourful light in every direction. His red, fur embroidered cloak looked far too warm, even for the chilly weather. His many rings looked expensive enough to feed a family for months with the coin you could get off of selling it. Even his stiff, well-tailored clothes looked more expensive than a vast majority of the exported goods sold in the clothing area of the festival. Overall, he looked just as pompous and over dressed as he always did.
At his side, holding onto the reins of the horse from down below, walked the King’s royal advisor and personal guard, Martyn. The man stood tall, his clothes just as uselessly expensive looking, but less stiff to allow him easy movement and covered by a layer of grey armour to protect his delicate weak spots. The strip of green fabric that was tied around his forehead looked more a hindrance than a help, doing little to keep his hair out of his face and only providing a way for sweat to gather and sit stagnant on his skin.
Gross, questionable fashion choice, but who was he to judge.
With the appearance of the two important men, Grian distanced himself from the stage and took to the roof tops beyond the stands and tents. He huffed as his talons made contact with the tiles and his knees bent back to steady him. He was not out of view by any means, but who would think to look to the roof at a time like this? They were all too drunk or occupied with preparing for the feast to care if they saw him anyway.
He watched the Commander march over to the King the second he dismounted from his horse and speak to him, her hands animated as she seemingly explained to him that they needed to talk. He waved her off at first, which Grian could see made her angry by the way her body became tense. Then his advisor put his hand on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. King Ren nodded and then motioned for Gem to follow him.
Grian jumped from one roof to the next as he followed Gem and The King to an area of the festival that was less occupied, his movements light and airy, but also quick and precise. Eventually they reached an unoccupied area behind the stands similar to the one Grian was hiding behind not long ago. The soldiers formed a semi-circle around them as they came to a stop, keeping an eye out and making sure no one got close enough to listen in on the conversation the two of them were about to have. They were very great at their job.
He settled into a crouch on one of the roofs near them, his talons curling under to grip onto the rafter in order to stop himself from falling. He had positioned himself close enough to hear most of what was said, but hopefully not close enough to be seen or heard himself.
“... warning, you say?” Ren asked, carelessly loud as Grian focused in on the conversation.
“Yes, your highness” Gem confirmed with a nod of her head.
“That hardly makes any sense, Commander. What reason would he have to warn his enemies that he has a plan against them?” The King asked in a condescending tone that left Grian sneering at the sheer indignity of it.
“Your highness, I mean you no disrespect when I say it would be unwise of us to underestimate Grian. Odd as it may be that he’s come to us with a warning, it would do us well to take him seriously. We have no way of knowing the power and numbers he has, nor what it is that he is planning.” Gem said, her tone firmer.
“Or if he is planning anything at all.” Ren said. Grian could not see her face, but he could tell the Commander’s eyebrow twitched, a facial que that she was pissed. She took a measured breath before responding.
“It would be wise to be on guard regardless.” She said, tone even and steady, masking her anger fairly well. King Ren opened his mouth to argue, but then his advisor settled his hand on his shoulder yet again and he raised a jewel encrusted hand up to his chin, scratching at his beard. Everyone waited with bated breath for him to say something, anything. Gem’s shoulders were tense.
“I trust you, Commander,” He finally said, “If it would bring you peace, tell the soldiers to keep their eyes open and increase the security in the streets. Do you believe he will try anything tonight?”
Grian perked up in delight. An increase of soldiers in the streets was not a good thing by any means, but it still meant a decrease in soldiers within the castle. That could work in their favour. What a pleasant outcome to his risky warning. He knew it was worth it.
“No, your highness,” Gem said, “It is unlikely he will make his move tonight, but I still believe it would be for the best if we tighten security, especially around the feast.”
“Have it be done than. If that is all, I believe I have a speech to make, do I not? You’ve kept me from it long enough.” Ren said.
Gem and her right-hand men bowed to the King, and with that he took his leave, the soldiers that had been guarding the area following after him. Gem and her men stayed behind for a moment, anger clearly stewing. She punched the stone wall behind her with a noise of frustration before bringing her hand up to rub the spot between her brows. Impulse tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off and took the lead back towards the city square.
Grian knew he should be going. He was most definitely late for the meeting at this point, but surely it could not hurt to listen in just a little bit more. Who knows what he was likely to hear. He unhooked his talons and took off across the rooftops once more.
As he grew closer to the center once more, where the stage had shrunk in size and been surrounded with rows upon rows of tables that were overflowing with delicious foods, he jumped from the roof and onto one of the unattended, canopy covered alcohol stands. He sank into the surface, causing it to cave in the slightest amount. He pulled his talons into his core to avoid tearing the fabric apart and rolled towards the edge until he was on his belly overlooking the feast.
He had perfectly positioned himself on the stand next to the royal dining table, where everyone important or related to the king was sat eating the plethora of food. There were large kegs of alcohol atop the tables, rendering the stand he lay upon useless, so it was unlikely for anyone to approach it and find him.
He watched as Ren made his way up onto the small stage, Martyn ever by his side. He began to talk, voice loud and domineering over the crowd as laterns all around them began to light up the growing darkness. Grian tuned the entirety of speech out, uncaring of whatever prattle was going to come out of his mouth. He knew he would gain nothing of value from it. His speeches were all the same, empty promises of safety full of nauseating amounts of self flattery.
His attention sharpened as Ren raised a golden goblet of wine up into the air, “To another year of prosperity!” He declared.
Grian covered his sensitive ears as the cheers of the crowd grew far too loud for him to bear. He watched as the King made his way over to his designated table, marked by the grand, gold lined red tablecloth that covered the surface. He uncovered his ears when the noise softened to an acceptable, but still aggravating, level as everyone began to feast.
The King sat at one end of the long table, Martyn sitting to his left with cautious eyes. Gem sat at the other end, Scott and Impulse on either side of her; they were who Grian had positioned himself near. Scott, the one with the blue hair, looked peeved. He leaned in towards an equally as angry appearing Gem, his elbows on the table as he spoke to her. Grian closed his eyes and focused his sensitive ears to hear them among all of the noise.
“I just do not understand his unwillingness to listen,” Scott said in a tone just above a whisper. “He knows better than anyone where your skills lie. It would do him well to trust in your word and instinct when facing something unknown like this threat.”
“He meant me no disrespect,” Gem said, though her tone said she believed otherwise. “This is out of the usual for Grian. He may even be right, who is to say it is not just a trick he is playing on us all?”
“But to dismiss it so easily-.”
“That’s enough, we’ll talk more after-.” Gem interrupted and the cut herself off, her eyes turning towards the roof tops.
Grian ducked out of view, though he doubted she would have seen him from where he was regardless. It was too risky to keep listening in when she was in some way aware of his presence, so he took that as a sign that it was best he be on his way.
He looked around him and found that the sun had fully set at this point. The moon and stars were both high in the sky, meaning it was well beyond time for him to go. He rolled towards the edge of the canopy and slipped off with one easy motion, hitting the ground with a near silent clink of his talons. He kept hidden behind the booths until he rejoined the crowd outside of the town square. The flickering fire from the lanterns cast dancing shadows across the walls and the ground, creating a kaleidoscope along what was visible of the stone floor.
He reached the tavern in a timely manner and pushed the wooden door open. This place was usually more busy, but with the festival in full swing most would prefer to get their alcoholic fix in the streets where they could enjoy the festivities at the same time. Because of this, the spacious tavern was mostly empty, save for a few regular drunkards and people who had stumbled in to avoid the noise of the outside world.
It was dark inside, the few, scattered lamps that were lit around the space providing very little actual light. It was also filthy, with trash, food scraps, and sticky puddles of ale littering the floors and tables. There was a man slumped over one of the tables near the entrance, his hand still loosely holding onto an empty mug. He swore he spotted another man underneath a table near the back, but he chose to ignore it.
Grian made his way over to the bar, where the tender was stood rubbing the lip of a mug with a filthy towel as he eyed Grian with suspicion and murderous intent.
“I thought I told yous to stop coming here after the last time,” The man said, setting the mug on the counter with enough aggression that it rattled the racks of cups behind him. “Yous is trouble, too much trouble.”
“I’m here to meet a friend,” Grian said with a smile, undeterred by the aggravation directed his way. The man did have a right to want him gone, after all. Last time he’d been inside of this establishment he’d started a bar fight that ended with Gem showing up and the two of them fighting. The damage done to the interior had been spectacular. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen him around? About my height, maybe a little taller. Brown hair, green streak in the front. Perhaps he had gills and earfins?”
“I have the right mind to call the guards in here right now, you know. Lotta nerve you’ve got showing up here to conduct your shady business.” The man said, crossing his arms.
“We both know you won’t, though.” He said, his grin turning into more of a smirk, “So, have you seen him?”
The bartender grunted, a sour expression on his face, before he pointed to the far corner of the bar, where a hooded figure sat at a large, round table all by himself. Grian gave the bartender a slight bow before heading over to where his potential ally was sat.
The hooded man looked up as Grian approached, his green eyes reflecting the flickering orange light of the lantern that hung from the ceiling. He was nursing a mug of ale that Grian knew from experience tasted like warm piss on a good day, and based on his twisted expression as he took a sip, today was not a good day. Well, people didn’t come here for the taste of the ale anyway.
Grian pulled one of the chairs away from the table and spun it around so he could sit with his legs spread and his arms resting over the back. He was rewarded with an unimpressed look, for more reasons than one.
“About time you showed up. I’ve been waiting a bloody quarter hour.” Joel scolded, his sharp teeth on display.
“Sorry, Joel, I got a little caught up on the way here.” He said, choosing to leave out the part where he had been spying on Gem and her people.
“Sh! Keep your voice down, would you? Might as well just run into the streets and announce that I’m here while you're at it!” Joel whispered harshly, leaning forward with paranoid eyes. Grian rolled his own black eyes at the exclamation.
“Joel is a very common name, and you aren’t the only one with it. I can guarantee you that no one knows who you are. Even the hood is unnecessary.” Grian retorted, leaning forward to flick the hairline of the hood. Joel leaned back, glaring.
“You’re wearing a hood as well, you know.” Joel protested.
“Because unlike you, I am well known in this area, and I would be recognized.” Grian replied with a tilt of his head. He felt like that was obvious.
“Whatever,” He said, taking a swig of the drink in his hands as his eyes scanned the tavern, “Let’s get down to business before this place falls apart on top of us.”
“Oh, come now, it’s not that bad.” Grian said, waving his hand. He reached over and snatched the ale from Joel’s hands and took several hardy gulps. He licked his lips and slammed the mug down onto the table, “That being said, the owner very much would like to see me buried six feet under, so perhaps it is best we get this over and done with as soon as possible.”
Joel looked perturbed by the assertion and the theft of his drink but said nothing of either.
“So, tell me, what choice have you come to in regard to the plan?” Grian asked.
"She��has agreed to the plan, and I’ve been officially assigned to take care of preparations for you. I will personally be coordinating everything over the course of the next few weeks. It should all be in place just in time for the New Moon, just as you asked.” Joel said, posture straightening as he spoke.
“Excellent news!” Grian said, taking another drink of the alcohol and wiping the foam off of his lips with his shoulder, “I will arrange for a place for each group to camp out until the night we make our move.”
“I was just going to ask about that. I have already taken the liberty of renting out one of the vacant shops in the market district under a fake name. I already have a group here who accompanied me on my journey, so I will have them base there, but the shop is not nearly big enough to occupy the number of people you have requested.” Joel said. He eyed the mug Grian had stolen from him, and Grian slid it back over to him. Joel frowned when he saw how much Grian had drunken from it, squinting at him over the lip of the mug as he took a drink himself.
“Leave all further housing to me, I will take care of it.” Grian said. He briefly wondered if he should order his own ale but decided against it. He didn’t need to give the bartender more reasons to be angry with him.
“You can expect the second group of men and women to arrive by the end of next week. They will be disguising themselves as the family of my men already here, so be on the lookout for merchants selling glass.” Joel said.
“Give them word that they should head to Big Bakeries once they’re inside of the Capital and ask for the secret recipe. He will send them my way and I’ll get them settled.” He said, reaching over for the mug. Joel let him take it, and he deflated in disappointment when he found it empty.
“I’ll be sure to pass along the message,” Joel said before slapping his hands on the tabletop and pushing himself up into a standing position, “You made me wait too long, so I’ve got to be on my way. I’m on a tight schedule if you want things moving smoothly. Is there anything else you need from me?”
“I think we’re done here unless you need something from me,” Grian said, moving to stand as well when Joel shook his head ‘no’. He kicked the leg of the chair to spin it around to its proper placement and pushed it in, “It’s been both a pleasure and an honour doing business with you, I look forward to our future interactions.”
“You know how to get into contact with me if you need to,” Joel said, fixing his hood so that it properly hid his face.
“And you, me. If the usual avenue doesn’t work for whatever reason, you may also find me through the same method as your men, or you may also reach me through the inventors on Tinker Avenue. All you have to do is tell them you are there to watch when they ask what you need.” Grian said.
“Gods, I forgot it was your reach that tipped us off to your existence. It’s disturbing how many connections you have within the city. It makes one wonder what you need our help for at all.” Joel said, eyeing him.
“We are many, but there are hardly enough of us to lay siege to an entire castle all on our own. Your assistance is as greatly needed as it is appreciated.” Grian said. Joel nodded in understanding and then rounded the table to stand near him. He held out his hand and Grian reached out his own to shake it, careful to not scratch the man with his sharp nails.
“I was here much longer, so it only makes sense that I will be the one to head out first,” Joel said. Grian nodded and let go of the man’s hand, watching as his ally departed from the tavern.
He waited what he hoped was an appropriate amount of time to avoid appearing like he was following Joel out before pulling a bag of coins from his belt and tossing them towards the bartender. He caught it with a nasty look and tucked the bag away under the counter. He pointed towards the door and Grian rolled his eyes as he saw his way out before he could be thrown out.
As he entered the night air, he shivered a bit. Though it was only fall right now, it was already growing colder by the day. Winter would be upon them in no time. He would have to remember to inform everyone that they should wear warm underclothes once the fated night arrived.
The festival was still well in effect at this point, the jovial sounds reaching his ears and the smell of the food making his stomach rumble. He hoped their joy would last after his plan was enacted. He was doing it for them, even if they didn’t know it. While he had faith that everything would go well, especially with the news that their sister kingdom, Coral Crest, was on their side, there was always the ever-looming threat that things would go wrong.
In any case, he needed to get home to tell Scar the good news and give him a new task. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he exited the town, the noise finally dissipating to a low murmur before disappearing entirely and being replaced by the near silent sounds of crickets and wind ruffled leaves. He hurried through the trees to the location of his and Scar’s main hideout, one only they and Mumbo knew about, and looked around to ensure he wasn’t followed. Not that it really mattered. This place was completely guarded by magic, but one could never be too safe when you lived the life Grian did.
Once he was sure he was alone, he entered the cave hidden among the boulders and trees, and carried on further until he reached a split in the long tunnel. He came to several of these twists and turns until he finally reached the cavern he had been calling home for many years now. It was small, the interior only about the size of the average house, illuminated naturally by amethyst and some species of moss that grew along the ceiling and ground. There was a hammock in the corner for him to sleep in, a few chests scattered around the area, and a table that held a pitcher of water and piles of papers, both used and unused, in the center of the room. The left wall was entirely covered in papers with his messy handwriting on them, along with diagrams of the castle; all of his planning throughout the years.
Few people knew that this place existed. It was safer that way.
“Scar.” He said, his words echoing in the dark. He let out an exacerbated sigh when he received no response. He raised his voice, “Scar!”
“So impatient,” A voice said directly beside him. He didn’t so much as flinch, having had years to develop an immunity to the Scar’s bullshit and antics, “Give me a chance to respond!”
“Coral Crest has agreed to help us during the new moon.” Grian got right to the point. “They’ll be sending groups of soldiers to us over the next few weeks until then, so we’ll have to be ready for their arrival. Can you safeguard a few houses?”
“Anything for you, my delightful birdie friend.” Scar said. A meow reached Grian’s ears and he looked down to find Scar’s familiar rubbing against his leg. She looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he reached down, gingerly taking her into his arms before standing again.
“And while you’re at it, do me a favour and safeguard the glass shop over in the shopping district as soon as you can. There are a few Coral Crest allies stationed there already, and we wouldn’t want something happening to them.” Grian tacked on, scratching Jellie under the chin with the tip of his talon, as gentle and careful as could be though he knew he could not hurt her. She purred in his hold.
“Consider it done.” Scar said, and then continued with a satisfied grin, “The pieces are falling into place just as we hoped they would, aren’t they?”
“We’ve prepared for this day for nearly a decade. There is hardly any room for anything to go wrong.” Grian stated matter-of-factly, settling Jellie down on the ground.
“Let us hope that things keep going our way then.” Scar said before he and Jellie disappeared just as suddenly as they had showed up, no doubt getting right to work with the things Grian had tasked Scar with. Scar may be a bit on the carefree and goofy side from time to time, but he was also quick and efficient, especially with Jellie by his side. It would be taken care of by morning, Grian was sure of it.
All he had left to do until Joel arrived with more of his men in the coming week was go over the ground plans with his engineers, but that could wait. He pulled his cloak off of himself and discarded it on the chair by the table before heading over to the swinging hammock that hung from the lower parts of the ceiling. He climbed into it with practiced ease, folding an arm behind his head and settling the other on his stomach with his feet hanging over the edge. For now, he would sleep and await the new day.
He smiled a true, sincere grin up at the stone ceiling. Soon it would all be over, and this living nightmare would finally, at last, come to an end. Scar was right, everything truly was falling right into place for him.
Gem froze mid-sentence and turned her head at an unnatural speed towards one of the alcohol booths off to the side of the table. Her mouth snapped shut and her brows furrowed, lips twisting into a confused and foul expression.
“What is it, Gem?” Impulse asked, leaning back in his chair to look in the direction she was.
She hesitated for a second, eyes trained on the darkness. There was nothing there that either she or the boys could see, but still she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something, no someone, there. She, against her better judgement, turned her attention back towards her meal. She couldn’t let that encounter with Grian drive her mad with paranoia this early on. She had to be on her A-game, and that included not jumping at the shadows.
“It was nothing,” She said, ignoring the growing pit of unease that had yet to leave her. She only hoped that her words held true.
#GG rivals au#GG main fic#grian#geminitay#joel smallishbeans#goodtimeswithscar#hermitcraft#life series#Danny's fics#fic: Thus Always to Tyrants#Point of View: Grian#cw: alcohol#very sorry for the wait everyone!#thank you for your patience!#let me know if this needs any more content warnings and I will update it in a heartbeat
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There's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it section of the Rebellion opening where bells flash across the screen and once I paused it, my brain screamed "Utena reference!"
Left: The Rebellion Story (2013). Right: The Adolescence of Utena (1999).
Rebellion is to the original Madoka Magica TV series as Adolescence is to Revolutionary Girl Utena, to the point where I jokingly refer to it as "The Adolescence of Homura". The primary difference is that while Rebellion eventually makes it clear that it is a continuation, not a retelling of the original, the relationship between the Utena movie and its predecessor remains open to interpretation. (To make up for it, Adolescence has a gorgeously animated and romantic dance sequence and ends with the two female leads cuddling naked and kissing, while Rebellion... doesn't.) Most of the parallels are subtextual rather than overt, but every now and then the animators give us a shot that makes it clear that Utena was indeed a direct influence.
This whole section is difficult to see because it flashes by so fast, but it also includes another shot that takes my breath away:
The windows of the castle in the fantasy theme park open up to reveal the clockwork powering it; the cogs and gears float in the celestial void, the "engine" of reality as we know it. The entire theme park is a Potemkin facade meant to disguise and distract us from the truth... essentially giving away one of the movie's main twists before it's even gotten started. This is also hinted at in earlier shots of the desert "blooming" as it is covered by an illusion, which is eventually rescinded in the final moments of the credits, but goes further by indirectly pointing to Homura as its source.
This is also Homura's hand, but it's not as immediately obvious, just like the hands puppeting the Nightmares are also hers, but with a bandage to hide the soul gem mark on her fingernail. I don't know if we ever see that bracelet again, though.
Note that although opening windows are a major recurring visual motif in this movie--the symbol of the Law of Cycles' salvation--this is different, as evidenced by the stained glass design on the panes. Here we are "looking under the hood," so to speak, in a manner evocative of Princess Tutu, one of the other influences on Madoka Magica and Rebellion in particular, in which "reality" is ultimately revealed to be controlled by a narrative represented as mechanical clockwork. I can't help noticing the stained glass in the window is round with a purple cross--reminiscent of Homura's shield and her diamond-shaped soul gem.
We also get a glimpse of the clock face, which is not the weirdest clock in this series by a wide margin, but does combine the shield/gears/time motifs nicely.
In case it's not clear, I love it when opening credits contained major spoilers hidden in plain sight and I cannot wait to see what they do with Walpurgis no Kaiten.
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