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#and an exotic bow turns out to be no different
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THIS BOW IS THE SIZE OF GOD
JeSUS Rasputin have you ever heard of over-engineered?? No wonder they used to link these suckers to orbital weapons platforms.
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kowaiitenshii · 1 year
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[Sunkiller Lullaby Part Two]
Pairing: Darth Vader X Reader
Plot Summary: Accepting your role as Lord Vader’s personal attendant, you take the first steps in learning your new duties, and proving your loyalty to your new master. 
Warnings: Canon-level violence. Mentions of death/murder. Descriptions of fear. Corruption. Canon-divergent. Unburnt!Vader. Reader is a former slave. Improper use of the force. Vader is his own warning. Descriptions of mistreatment. AFAB reader, feminine pronouns and descriptions used. 18+ content to come in later chapters.
Words: 4.2k
A/N: First off, thank you so much everyone for all the love on part one! I truly did not think so many people would enjoy it! I appreciate everyone who reblogged and liked, and I cannot wait to continue sharing this story with you. If people continue to enjoy my writing, I will most likely open up for requests/prompts!
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Part One HERE
Part II:
To your dismay, you awaken to bright beams of starlight peeking through the sheer inner curtains of your suite. 
You blink in confusion as you mull over the contents of the past night’s dream, and lament the fact that it was only that; a dream. 
Sighing deeply in disappointment, you slowly rise from bed and dress yourself for the day, deciding on a deep ruby red set of robes. They’re thick and soft as you slide them on, and you decide that red really compliments you. 
You are again presented with a decadent breakfast, this time dining on exotic ripened fruits, cured strips of thinly sliced meat, and toasted breads.
When you finish, the friendly droid again kindly leads you to Lord Vader’s private chambers. 
As the doors slide open, you nearly jump out of your skin when you find your master awaiting you, staring at the door expectantly as he anticipates your arrival.
 Forcing yourself to hold your head high, you saunter into the room as nonchalantly as you can muster. Your hands shake as you approach, and you clench them tightly in an attempt to push down your building nerves. 
“Morning, young one.” he greets you coolly, his deep voice resonating through the silence. 
“Good morning, My Lord.” you reply calmly, bowing to the Sith Lord. 
He gives you an approving nod as you rise, before turning to the large window behind himself, commanding you to join him. 
“Come.” he booms simply, and you oblige him. Standing next to him only highlights the size difference between the two of you, seeing as you only reach his shoulder at the highest. 
All the lights of the room both overhead and from electric controls shine off of Vader’s helmet and armor, creating almost an aura of light which glints off of him. Your eyes are drawn to the heavy slant of his shoulders with his cape draped over, and the curve of his very evident biceps beneath his thick suit. Your face reddens slightly before you turn to face the window, feeling a measure of shame for looking at a Sith Lord in such a way. 
The two of you gaze out at the expanse of stars before you, and you can’t help but marvel at the sight. Being from a small planet and having been enslaved since you were just a young girl, you had never any chance to explore or travel, no matter how badly you may have wanted to. 
One of the things that amazes you the most as you stare out into space is the realisation that the stars are colourful.
There are stars of every colour you can imagine, and most of them are planets. Each star glittering across the sky in endless hues, they remind you of the fields of wildflowers that were common on your home-planet. 
For a fleeting moment, you imagine lying amongst the stars and wrapping yourself in a blanket made of space itself, before Vader speaks again. 
“I have arranged a test for you today.” he asserts, his tone unreadable. 
Cocking your head, you glance up at your master, questioning exactly what sort of test he had in mind. 
“We need to have the understanding that we can trust in one another if I am to take you on in personal servitude.” He explains, sensing your curiosity. 
You can feel yourself go cold as the words sink in. It could be any kind of test, and ice cold pangs of fear grip your heart as you pray you do not fail. 
Failure is simply not an option. 
The trembling in your fingers only worsens, and to your horror, Vader notices. 
He takes one of your quivering hands tightly within his own before placing the other heavy, leather-clad hand over top of yours. His touch is like holding a livewire, like nothing you had ever felt before, and it makes you jolt in your skin. 
His gaze albeit masked is fixed upon you as he speaks, the air catching in your throat. 
“I can sense your fear, your hurt. Your rage.” he says, a reassuring tone hidden in his distorted voice. “Use them. Do not fear me.” he commands, before dropping your hand like he had never touched it in the first place. 
Not fearing him was a hefty task indeed. 
You say nothing in response, swallowing thickly and flexing your fingers to rid them of the lingering sensation of his touch. 
Just then, the ship begins to descend on a barren planet. The land is desolate, clouds of smoky-coloured dust covering the rough, rocky terrain. 
You take deep breaths to steady yourself as the ship lands, still reeling from the touch along with your nerves and their gnashing teeth gnawing at the back of your mind. 
As you disembark, you can feel how tightly wound your body is with anticipation. Despite this, you diligently follow your master as he treks along the barren, grey landscape, leading you to a wide clearing in the rocky wasteland. 
All around you are boulders and crystals of enormous size, and you figure this must be an Empire-controlled resource planet. 
Looking up to the violet sky, you pray to the maker that you make it out of this in one piece. 
Vader stops at once, turning to regard you once more as you come to stand before him. 
“Before we begin,” he starts “What is your name?” he asks, striking you with the realisation that you had not yet told him, and that he almost certainly already knew it. Truthfully, you had nearly forgotten that you had a name, as more derogatory terms were commonly used to refer to slaves. It is a strange thought that Lord Vader would even care to know it. 
“(Y/N).” you answer dutifully. 
“(Y/N).” he confirms before speaking again. “As I previously stated, we must be without a shadow of a doubt that we trust in one another. I have brought you here to assess that fact.” he explains, his droning voice reverberating off of the jagged walls of the terrain surrounding you. 
Doing your best to maintain your shaken composure, you watch as the Sith Lord strides a few paces away before speaking again once more. 
“I will test you, as you will test me.” He iterates, now turning towards you and watching you for a moment. 
Rooted to the spot, you clench your shaking hands and swallow the lump in your throat, fixing your gaze upon Lord Vader.
 You will test him? What could he possibly mean by that? 
You watch in thinly veiled terror as he raises his right hand and the ashen earth around you begins to tremble. A large mass of sparkling crystal sizable enough to crush a freighter breaks away from the earth, beginning to levitate.
Stomach in knots and your mind racing, you watch in horror as it rises impossibly high and comes to a stop directly over your head. 
In your youth you had heard tales of the Jedi and the Sith, but you had always taken them with a grain of salt. It is then that you come to understand that the stories were true, and the force is more powerful than you could ever have imagined. 
Vader’s voice cuts through your frenzied train of thought, snapping you back into the moment. 
“Focus on me.” he instructs you, holding the spiked mass of crystals steady above you, pulling it higher. 
Although every atom in your body screams at you to run, you know there is no point. Wiping away the fine sweat forming on your brow, you obey your master, fixing your widened eyes upon him. 
“Feel your fear.” he commands in a guiding tone. “Feel it, and understand that I will never harm you.” 
Dread cuts into your chest like knives, and still you obey. You feel the goosebumps on every inch of your skin, your muscles poised to flee, and the fine tremble running through you in waves. 
You look upon Lord Vader who holds your life in his hands so effortlessly. Focusing on the expressionless countenance of his helmet, you envision looking into his eyes and finding unwavering certainty there. 
You stand as a statue as the massive crystal drops, time itself seeming to slow, and you don’t so much as blink when Vader catches it just before it hits.
“Very good.” Darth Vader affirms, before reeling back and launching the crystals far off into the distance; the sound of impact only coming as a murmured echo. 
Sighing a huge breath of relief, your shoulders and head droop as the tension washes away in waves. When you lift your head, the Sith Lord is in front of you again, this time holding a cylindrical silver and black object in his outstretched right hand, motioning for you to take it. 
“Do you know what this is?” he asks as you carefully take it from him, examining the activation switch on the side. 
“Yes,” you affirm as you inspect the object with great curiosity. “It is a lightsaber.” 
You had seen them in use only once when your planet was under siege, but you had also seen them traded by smugglers a handful of times.
 However, you had never held one. The metal is cool to the touch, and it is deceptively heavy in your hands as you marvel at it, turning it over and over in your hands. 
“Turn it on.” Vader demands, cutting your observation short. You swallow your nerves, holding the lightsaber in your right hand and placing your thumb over the switch. You jump as you press it, the glowing crimson plasma blade instantly shooting out with a sharp sound.
The glowing saber incandesces between the two of you, red light illuminating Vader’s ominous visage. 
“Good. Now off.” he directs, and you obey immediately. 
“Now, we test my faith in you.” he states intently, stepping closer and closer until he is merely an arm’s length away, looming expectantly over you. 
Stomach tingling and your mind blank, you watch as he harshly grips the wrist of your right hand and presses the unarmed lightsaber against the blinking control panel on his chestplate, the shocking sensation of his touch feeling a million miles away. 
Staring at where the hilt of the blade rests against his armor, you have the cold understanding that you could kill him right now. 
You could kill him, and yet it would do nothing to change your fate. 
It takes a moment to realise he’s staring at you before you look up to meet the blank gaze of his mask. Somehow you can feel it in him, the faith he has in you and the understanding that killing him would not save you. 
You’re like that for a moment, staring at each other and listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing before he steps away, and you hand the lightsaber back to him. 
“Well done.” he praises as he beckons you to follow. “Come. We are done here.” 
You both board Lord Vader’s ship once again, your mind and emotions still reeling from the stress of the situation you just managed to live through as he calmly leads you to his chambers.
“Make yourself comfortable.” he orders as you enter the room, and you waste no time in shrugging off your outermost robe, leaving on your cowl and belted underdress. Plopping wearily onto one of the long couches in the room, you notice that it’s notably firmer than the plush furnishings of your suite, though you were in no place to complain. 
Lord Vader stares at you for a moment, and you become bashful at the idea of him looking upon your uncovered skin, before he turns to his place at the large window to watch as the ship takes off. 
You wonder if he does anything other than stare out the window in contemplation. 
Straightening yourself up, you watch the grey planet fade away as the ship flies, bidding the site of your near-grave a goodbye before looking around the room in which you sit. 
Now that you have the chance to really look, you take in your surroundings. To your right, the wall with the door is covered in blinking controls which you can only assume are either used to manipulate aspects of the room or call droids and Imperial personnel. On the far wall opposite where you sit, there is a large open doorway into an illuminated room housing an enormous tank filled with a mysterious blueish liquid, and you wonder what the purpose for it could possibly be. 
You don’t see a bed in the room, so you assume that Vader sleeps elsewhere. That is, if he indeed sleeps. 
In the left hand corner of the opposite wall, you can see a long white table littered with various parts, mechanisms and tools laid out upon it, and you find it mildly interesting that Darth Vader likes to tinker. 
The Sith Lord’s voice cuts through your curious observations like a razor.
“What do you know of the force?” He asks, peering over his shoulder at you. 
You’re stunned for a moment before you answer. 
“I must admit, Lord Vader, I know very little, as it was forbidden to be taught on my homeworld.” you reply truthfully, caught off guard by the seemingly random question. It was true, the ways of the force were not formally taught as a form of trying to shield the people of your home-planet from the Empire; all you know are the legends and the myths that were told as stories. 
Lord Vader nods in acceptance. 
“This ship is equipped with an entire library full of knowledge of the force, both light and dark; Jedi and Sith. You are free to utilise it if you so wish.” He offers, but it sounds more like an order.
Feeling as though there’s something he’s not saying, you simply nod.
“Thank you master.” you accept graciously with a soft smile. 
He only nods in reply, gaze lingering heavily upon you before he turns away from the window, pacing over to his work bench in the opposite corner from where you sit and taking a seat. 
You do not know how long he toils over his machines, nor how long you accompany him in doing so. 
The last thing you remember before waking up in your own bed is dozing off on Lord Vader’s couch. 
Confused and unaware of how you got back to your suite, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and sit up. As you rise, a gentle knock sounds behind the door. 
“Come in!” you call out, clearing your throat and wetting your lips. 
The friendly droid enters, bowing to you and chirping its greetings. 
“Good evening, Madam! I’m assured you’re ready for your meal?” it asks politely. Smiling softly at the kind droid, you nod. 
“Yes, please.”
After all, the stress of the day's activities has left you quite hungry, your stomach growling at the thought of the decadent spreads you’ve been spoiled with. 
The droid steps out for a moment, promptly returning with a spread no less extravagant than the others you’ve been lucky enough to enjoy. Tonight, your meal consists of a striking plum-coloured stew, accompanied by an herbed mash of root vegetables, and crusty baked breads still warm from the oven. 
As you eat, a curious and humorous thought crosses your mind, and you set down your spoon to ask the droid a question. 
“Was it you that carried me all the way back here?” you giggle playfully, finding amusement in the idea of the spindly droid hauling you through the corridors.
“No milady, Lord Vader saw to that himself.” the droid answers dutifully. 
Knowing it is incapable of lying, the idea hits you like a train, and you’re struck by it for a moment. 
Carrying you to your room seemed like a task that would be uncharacteristically tender, too gentle for Vader to carry out. You can feel the flush that spreads across your cheeks as you come to the understanding that there is still much you do not know about your master. 
“Oh, um. Give him my thanks.” you reply quietly, leaving it at that.
“As you wish, Milady.” the droid affirms. 
Spending the rest of your meal in contemplative silence, it does you well, nourishing and soothing your tired body. 
Before the droid leaves you for the night, you request the books that Lord Vader had mentioned, thinking some studying may help you to understand your master, even if just a small bit more. 
It happily delivers them to you, leaving you with a stack of thick and heavy books with weathered bindings. 
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Elsewhere, Darth Vader paces in his chamber, heavy footsteps echoing around him. 
He is quite satisfied with the recent turn of events, knowing surely now that your spirit had not been broken by your life of torment, but that it was bendable.
It was true that you had great fear within you, but your lust for power and your anger was greater.  Your suffering had made you fierce, it made you courageous. 
The Emperor will be pleased. 
Remembering the strength in your expression as you had connected with him while your very life hung in the balance, the absolute, steady faith you had in him; And then the dichotomy of holding your serenely peaceful sleeping body in his arms, your angelic calmness, he feels an unfamiliar flutter in his chest before shaking it off. 
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Spending the rest of the night flipping through an ancient tome, you are thoroughly intrigued by the stories contained within. They read like fairy tales; tales of heroic bravery, of villainous contempt, of epic battles and galactic love. 
They’re enchanting, reminding you of those cherished times as a child when your parents would read to you before putting you to bed. 
Well into the late hours of the night, you finally ready yourself for sleep, yawning and stretching as you shrug off your garments. 
As you lay out an outfit for the next day, you catch a glimpse of a passing moon. It’s beautiful, a light yellow hue to the pallid monolith as it glows. Moons always reminded you of solitude, your only companion in those quiet hours of the night. As you watch it pass, you silently hope that you dream of your mysterious suitor again. 
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Your prayers are answered. 
Becoming aware of your surroundings, your eyes scan the room around you. It’s a more intimate setting this time, a quaint stone cottage within a verdant forest. There are strange herbs and flowers hung to dry all about the room, leaving it with a floral, green aroma. 
Sitting on the floor in front of a warm, crackling fire, your vision finally adjusts to your dimly lit setting, and you spot the one you had wished for standing just within the doorway. 
He smiles warmly as your eyes land on him, exposing a row of perfect teeth. You can’t help but to smile back. 
Striding out of the shadows, he joins you by the fire, nestling you against his side. His energy is the same and you can feel it just as strongly as before, entrancing and sultry as the fire before you. 
You spend a long moment just looking at him, committing every aspect of his features to memory in case you never get the pleasure of seeing him again. 
He’s still got that warm smile on his face as he gazes back at you, making your stomach flutter. His hair falls in perfect golden waves on his shoulders, framing his outstandingly handsome features. His eyes are half-lidded, his pupils blown wide as he looks upon you; his full, pink lips parted. 
Feeling the heat in your body rising, spreading across your face and tinging the tips of your ears, you look away shyly. 
The connection you feel with this man still baffles you, it doesn't make any sense, leaving you confused and questioning whether you can even trust your own emotions. 
Though, you suppose dreams don’t have to make any sense. 
Reaching over to you, he brushes a tress of hair away from your face to read your expression, pulling your attention back to him. 
You blink sheepishly at him through long lashes as he hooks a finger under your chin, turning you to face him fully. Goosebumps form instantly at the contact, your hairs standing on end as a wistful sigh leaves your lips. 
He brings your face so close to his own that you can feel his gentle breaths tickling your lips. The air, the energy between you is like a thunderstorm; intense, restless, and exhilarating. 
You revel in the way he touches you like something that threatens to break. 
The realisation then hits you that this is your first time seeing him unhidden by his cloak. You take your time in taking in all the new details you had missed, noticing a lengthy scar on the right side of his face, running nearly all the way from his hairline to just below his eye. 
He slowly curls a strong arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap, never breaking eye contact while doing so. Following his movements obediently, you shift your legs to wrap around his waist as you perch on him; the tips of your noses tickling each other as you adjust yourself.
 You want, you crave nothing more than this closeness and contact with him.
After being denied pleasant, consensual human contact for so long, the feeling is intoxicating. It makes your head swim, and your heartbeat race. 
Still face to face, you delicately raise your right hand, ghosting the tips of your fingers down the length of his scar, taking great care in case it’s still painful for him. Your fingers buzz and tingle, like nerve endings coming back to life after having fallen asleep. 
Lips parting and eyes falling shut at your touch, he presses his forehead against yours. 
Your whole body lights up and hums at the sensation, like a static charge. His intense and all-consuming energy surrounds you, threatening to swallow you whole. 
And you let it. You let him in. 
Holding the doors to your mind open, you begin receiving visions. 
Visions of a small boy with tawny hair and bright blue eyes. Visions of the familiar sandy, dual-sunned landscape of Tatooine. Visions of that small boy toiling away in the shop of a cruel junk dealer. 
Your eyes fly back open with the newfound understanding that the child was him, that he truly had lived a life like yours. 
In this moment, as your heart races and your eyes flit between his, he feels like the person closest to you in the entire world. 
He looks back at you with soft eyes. The expression on his face is one that says: 
This is me. Do you see it? This is me. 
Overwhelmed by the connection, by the painful swelling of your heart in your chest, you let instinct lead rather than logic.
Leaning into him further, you brush your lips just barely over the full curve of his, inviting him to close the distance.
Instantly he relents, capturing your own lips with his, pure passion and intense longing radiating off of him in waves. 
As he tangles a large hand in your soft hair, you can feel your heart thumping against your ribcage, your blood rushing through your veins. Draping your arms over his sturdy shoulders, the very air around the two of you feels electric, tingling and crackling with released tension. Lips locking over and over, hands everywhere, tongues tasting each other in the heat of your fiery desire, you send a message through your ministrations. 
I see you. You say with every touch of the lips, every tease of his tongue, every rake of your nails across the soft skin of his abdomen. I see you. 
When you finally break the session to suck in greedy gasps of much needed air, he bites onto your bottom lip, prolonging the contact for as long as possible. He clutches you tightly, possessively to his strong body, as if you could be ripped from his arms at any moment; his own chest heaving as he breathes. 
He slides a large, rough hand up the small of your back, steadying you as you rest your head on his shoulder for a moment. Pressing a feather light kiss to the petal-soft skin of his throat, your eyes slide shut with great satisfaction. 
Credz: 
Lightsaber graphic creds: @saradika  
Taglist: 
@heyitsaloy
@poisonedsultana
@cryptidsrcool 
@mayhemories 
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mrsshabana · 6 months
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Aaah there are so many I want to see but for now could you show Mafia!Demon!Gyutaro?
I'm so glad you picked this one because it is one of my favorites too! This fic takes place in the AAO au. But if Gyutaro didn't go to college and joined the mafia with the other moons instead.
If you aren't familiar with my Against All Odds au, basically demons live among humans similarly to Tokyo Ghoul. But they don't have to eat humans, they can survive by eating any raw meat. Though some of them will still eat humans anyways.
Content: 18+ MDNI, Gyutaro x female!reader, violence, kidnapping, sexual themes
✧:・゚→ My WIP's
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𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂!𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏!𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
The world of demons was foreign to you, but in the blink of an eye you were thrusted into this life and demons became all you knew.
The only other humans you ever interacted with were the other girls. Girls who were in the same unfortunate position as you.
You were no one special before. Just working your way through life like the rest of us. And that’s how he found you. You were the perfect candidate really. Young, attractive, and weak. He was sure you’d be profitable. Abducting you in the cover of nightfall as you walked home from work after a graveyard shift.
Your abductor, the demon with the two-toned hair, took you to the black market. Selling you to an illegal exotic dancing club. A place where humans are kept captive for the enjoyment of demons. Forced to wear lingerie and dance behind nichirin bars.
This became your new normal.
You hated everyone here. The other girls gave you a hard time because you were new, and the owner of the club didn’t help. She’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, with stark white hair, two-toned just like the demon that had abducted you.
For some reason, that demon often came into your thoughts. As you sit in the back room, preparing yourself for your upcoming scheduled dance, you think back to him. His appearance was terrifying, but something about him intrigued you. You’ve been an exotic dancer for only a week, and you haven’t seen him since that first day. 
Too distracted by your lingering thoughts, you barely notice the other girls shuffling out of the room. You’ve been surviving by following what the other girls do, the girls that have been here for years. And an uncanny feeling begins to form in your gut. One that tells you that you should follow them. So you hastily finish your hair and makeup, slide on your heels, and make your way towards the door. 
And that is when you bump into him.
In your panicked state, you open the door too quickly without realizing what’s on the other side. Walking into the man’s chest, with a huff you slip on your heels. Falling right on your ass, at the feet of the only demon you recognize in this place.
Glowing eyes stare down at you with a frown. His lips downturned in an annoyed scowl. Looking down at you as if you are his prey, his frown changes into a toothy smirk, showing off his sharp teeth. 
Every nerve under your skin burns, every muscle in your body aches with the desire to run. But you find yourself frozen at his feet. Staring up at him like a helpless puppy.
“I-it’s you…” you whimper as he quirks a brow at your acknowledgment. Crouching in front of you and reaching forward to grip your cheeks with the rough pads of his fingertips. He hums as his grin widens, turning your face side to side, inspecting you.
“Oh so you remember me? How sweet,” he coos.
Quickly getting bored, he rolls his eyes and stands, “Get up,” he orders.
“R-right,” you stutter, struggling to get back on your feet. Once you are able to stand properly you bow and apologize, “I’m so sorry for my clumsiness, please forgive me sir. I-it won’t happen next time.”
He takes a step forward and brings his hand below your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He’s pleased by how you speak to him, it’s so different from how the other girls react to him.
“So eager to please, I’m glad I found you,” he chuckles before releasing you from his grasp, “and no need to be so formal, just call me Gyutaro from now on.”
You nod and he pushes you aside, “Now scram.”
After that day, you learned who Gyutaro was and why he frequented this place. This club is owned by the Kizuki, otherwise known as the most dangerous demon mafia in the world. And Gyutaro is one of their top members, along with his sister, Daki, who so happens to be the manager here.
Gyutaro comes once a week to collect the money that the dancers have generated, and once a month he’ll bring new girls if there is a need for more dancers.
Every time you’d see him, you’d politely greet him. A part of you hates him for bringing you here, but you begin looking forward to his weekly visits, even though he rarely acknowledges you.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
You’ve been here for a few months now. Things have gotten alarmingly mundane. Your previous life becomes a distant memory as you’ve even forgotten what the warmth of the sun feels like on your skin…
Putting on your lingerie, slipping into a pair of stockings and heels before you exit your quarters. 
Daki waits for you in the backroom with a group of other girls. Something must be going on. Daki never bothers to interact with the dancers much unless she’s scolding them.
“Girls, listen up,” Daki yells in an aggravated tone, “we have some special guests tonight so be on your best behavior!”
She then begins pointing to girls out of the group, instructing them to come to her, “and… you,” she points to you, “the rest of you are off for the night.”
She picked a dozen of you from the group, “Ok girls, you’ll be having some very special customers tonight,” she smirks, “Come with me.”
You all follow her out onto the dancing stage, where nichirin bars separate you from a group of men sitting in front of the stage.
She instructs you to stand in a line. And your heart sinks at what she does next.
Pressing a button behind the stage, the bars begin to lower until there is nothing separating you from the men that sit in front of you.
And what do you know… there he is. Gyutaro sits nonchalantly with his legs spread wide, a lazy smirk on his face. He’s wearing his usual attire, ripped black jeans, black leather boots, and a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His birthmarks and various tattoos are visible on his exposed skin. 
The other men you don’t recognize.
Daki turns on the music and shouts, “If you're chosen, give him a lap dance. If not chosen, you're free to go back to your quarters for the night.” 
What the fuck is happening right now. As far as you know, this doesn’t happen. They never allow girls to get in such close proximity to customers for safety reasons. Having half naked women flaunted in front of blood thirsty demons is a recipe for disaster, which is why the nichirin bars have always stayed between the stage and the customers. The only time a girl is allowed to give personal dances is if the guests pay a hefty price… and even then the dancer usually never comes back.
They begin going down the line, each man pointing to a woman of his choice. And for some reason, you’re relieved when Gyutaro points to you. Feeling a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders. 
This doesn’t go unnoticed. Gyutaro’s smirk is wiped off his face when you flash him the tiniest smile as you make your way to him. You shouldn’t be happy about this. He knows you know who he is and his status within the mafia, so why are you so eager to see him?
After each man has made his selection, Daki takes the remaining girls backstage. Leaving you vulnerable at the hands of the Kizuki…
Dim lights flicker as you stand between his legs. Gyutaro’s gaze trails down your body, pupils hesitating when he reaches your breasts, and stopping when his gaze reaches your thighs.
This is quite awkward for you. Yeah, you’re used to dancing for guests but Gyutaro has never been one of your guests. He’s always just been the guy that comes to collect the money, you never viewed him as a customer. But orders are orders and in this place you know you have no choice. So you begin to dance for him.
“Stop,” Gyutaro says sternly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, “Sit…”
You nod and do as you're told, taking a seat on his lap, straddling him. He rests his left hand on your thigh, and brings his other hand up to your face. Moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Why so eager to see me?” words drawn out, his hooded lids stare at you with a lazy expression.
“I-I was just glad that you picked me…” you blush, feeling your body heat up.
He hums, holding your hips down as he rolls his hips upwards. A hard bulge can be felt through his jeans, rubbing directly on the wet spot shamefully forming in your panties.
“I can’t imagine why,” he growls.
You lean forward to hold onto his shoulders for support, “You-you’re the only one I recognized…”
Gyutaro can see right through you as you spit out a half truth. Trying to convince yourself that that is the only reason that you were happy to see him. That you haven’t formed some sick attraction towards him. 
“Well, I was happy to see you too,” he smirks, caressing your cheek, “so pretty, so obedient, so eager to please… so sweet to me every time I come by each week.”
His praises make the tightness in your chest worsen, you feel like you can’t breathe. Your whole body feels hot as he leans forward to kiss your neck. Nipping at your collarbone with his teeth. Your small acts of kindness and simple decency towards him have caused him to grow a liking to you. Forming foreign feelings towards something that he only viewed as food before.
Tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you look beside you. The sight makes your blood run cold.
The man beside you, a demon with platinum blonde hair and rainbow eyes, is busy ripping out the trachea of one of the dancers. Blood covers his mouth, pooling beneath him on the floor. Looking further down the line you see similar acts. 
You seem to be the only girl left alive.
Gyutaro instantly senses your panic. Feeling your pulse increase drastically under his lips as he kisses your neck. You begin to squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you seated with a firm grip. Your breathing becomes choppy and panicked, whining as tears blur your vision.
“Hey hey hey, you’re ok,” he coos and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you close, “I’m here with you, doll.” 
“P-please…” you whimper pathetically.
“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” Gyutaro grabs your face, forcing you to look at him, “You trust me don’t you?”
Through hiccups and sobs you respond weakly with a nod, “Y-yes.”
“Good girl,” he groans, “It’s just me and you right now… don’t worry about anything else.”
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holylulusworld · 1 year
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Him, him or him?
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Summary: It’s your birthday and you decide to attend a speed dating event for fun. And fun it is…
Pairing: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Soldier Boy & Dean Winchester x Reader/You
Warnings: self-indulgent fanfic, multi-fandom fanfic, speed-dating, cocky Ben & Dean, implied smut, mentions of oral
A/N: I wrote this one for my birthday but used Y/N so anyone can be the reader. I’m a thirsty hoe, what can I say?
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“You want to do what?” your friend gapes at you. “But you said that you’d rather die than go on a blind date or ever consider speed dating.”
“Uh-it could be fun,” you smirk. “You know, I can tell every guy a different story. For one I’m a stewardess, for the next an exotic dancer, and maybe I’m a dominatrix too. Let me fuck up speed-dating for them as they did with the dates I had to endure. “OH! Maybe I fake I’m going into labor next time.”
“Y/N, spending your birthday with strangers is not how I imagined the day would play out. We still can go to a club or have dinner at your favorite restaurant.”
“It’s on my bucket list, babe.”
“Speed-dating is on your bucket list?” she huffs. “That’s lame.”
“Speed-dating and messing a date up,” you grin. “Let me have some fun before I’m getting too old and lose my teeth.” You chuckle. “Come on, I didn’t doll myself up to not have some fun…”
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“Hi, uh…I’m James,” the first guy sitting opposite you seems to be a little shy. He’s hiding behind a base cap and twiddles his fingers. “I came here with a friend. He wanted me to meet other people.”
“Y/N,” you hold out your hand. “I came here to…meet other people too.” You won’t mess with this guy. He seems to be nervous and shy. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” he mumbles. “So…what are you doing for a living?” James wants to know. “I’m kinda between two jobs.”
“Oh, I’m a Y/P (your profession),” oddly, you don’t lie to him. There is something about this man making your heart beat faster. “You said that you came with a friend. Is he looking for a date too?”
“Kinda,” James sheepishly looks at you. His soft blue eyes look you up and down, and for a moment it seemed there was a glint in them. “So, doll. Did you do this before?”
“No,” you sigh. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. You want to ask James if you want to talk somewhere else, but the bell rings and he says his goodbyes. “Aw, he wasn’t too bad…”
You watch James switch to the next table. He barely looks at the woman sitting opposite him.
“Hi,” a deep voice pulls your attention toward the man sitting down at your table. “I’m Steve. You just talked to my friend.” Damn, a tall blonde hunk took James’ place, and you fear this was an awful idea. “Did he talk to you?”
“Yes. He was a little shy but nice to talk to. I’m Y/N by the way,” you hold out your hand for Steve too. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same, doll,” he lowers his head and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. You giggle as it’s a little old-fashioned. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Do you have any hobbies?” you look him up and down. Steve looks familiar to you, but you don’t remember if you met him before. 
“I like to draw, and work on my bike,” he explains in a hurry. The bell will ring anytime and then he’ll need to switch places with some other guy. “Maybe I could draw you if I had more time…”
You lift one brow.
“Crap. I didn’t want to come over as a creep. It’s just you’re a pretty dame and I’d like to draw you, doll.”
You don’t get the chance to answer. The bell rings again, and Steve leaves your table. He gives you one last glance, smiling as you watch him go.
“Crap. He was kinda cute too…and tall,” you mutter under your breath as another guy walks toward your table. His legs are bowed, and he has this sway in his hips you can only call cocky.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” he smirks, and his stunning green eyes sparkle as he turns the chair to sit astride the chair. “How’re doing here? Saw the other guys. Hmm…you can do better.”
“Hi. What’s your name?” you ask, holding out your hand for the cocky guy.
“Name’s Dean. I’m an Aquarius, enjoy sunsets and frisky women. You can find me on Tinder under Impala67.” 
You chuckle at his eagerness. “That was a lot of information within a few seconds.”
“We only got three minutes. Now that you know a few things about me, you can tell me everything about you. How about you give me your name first.”
“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Dean,” you shake his hand too. Unlike the other guys, Dean doesn’t let go of your hand. He holds it while you try to tell him more about you. “I like sunsets too, and cocky guys. I assume your username has something to do with your car.”
“My baby. A 1967er Impala. Black. She’s a real beauty,” he leans closer and smirks. “With a huge backseat.”
“Bold and cocky,” you chuckle as he flashes you an adorable smile. 
He sighs as the bell rings again. “Three minutes are much too short to get to know each other. How about we meet outside and see how the night plays out? I’ll be waiting for you if you want me to.”
Someone clears his throat behind Dean’s back. “Buddy, it’s my turn,” the man says as Dean turns around to size the man up. “You had your chance. Now get out of my way.”
“Uh-Dean. Maybe you should switch to the next table,” you try to stop them from fighting. 
“You can have the chair, not the girl,” Dean snarls at the man. He looks over his shoulder and flashes you another smile. “See you later, sweetheart.”
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You started with three great men. Sadly, the next men weren’t as nice as Dean, Steve, and James. They talked mostly about themselves, money, their exes, or, and that’s your favorite, how much they love blowjobs.
“Shit, how many more,” you huff as the bell rings one last time. “Hi. My name is Y/N. And no, I won’t give you a blowjob after we are done here.”
“A tempting offer,” the man sitting down chuckles. “But I would never ask a lady to give me a blowjob before giving her heads.”
“What?” your head snaps upward and you meet another cocky smirk. This one seems to be even cockier and more self-confident than Dean. He leans back in the chair and runs his hand over his beard.
“You seemed rather bored, sweetness. How about you tell me something about yourself? Name’s Ben, or the guy giving you multiple orgasms if you want to.”
“Whoa, you’re very…” you don’t find the right words. Is he intense? Cocky? Or arrogant. Maybe a mixture of all.
“You like sunsets?” he asks. “I heard you talking to the other guy. The one with the car he calls Baby.”
“Did you spy on us?” 
“I saw you and your friend before you entered the building and thought I should keep an eye on you, Y/N. You never know if a creep tries to get handsy,” Ben smirks as you lean back in your chair. You’re a little shell-shocked at his admission. “I only had eyes for you today. How about you forget about the other guys and come with me? We can have dinner…and more…”
“Whoa, you just admitted that you followed me and my friend. I don’t think this is the best basis for a first date,” you raise one hand to stop him from talking to you. “The others at least didn’t act like a creep.”
“I want what I want, sweetness,” he shrugs. “I’m not hiding that you caught my attention. It’s been a long time since a woman got my attention like you did.”
The bell rings one last time. You don’t know what to think or feel when Ben gets up from the chair. He smirks and taps the table three times. “I hope to see you later. If not, it was a pleasure talking to you.”
“Same…” you stammer. He makes you a little nervous, but at the same time, you’d like to get to know more about Ben. 
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When the show is over you walk toward the organizer to hand them your list of the men you’d like to get to know better.
“Miss Y/L/N, four of your dates tonight submitted a list to us with only your name on it. They wanted me to give you their information,” the organizer says. She hands you a piece of paper with the information about Steve, Bucky, Dean, and Ben.
“Uh-thank you,” you take the piece of paper, awkwardly glancing at the information. “What now? Do they want me to call them or…?”
“That’s up to you, miss. You can call them or ignore them. If you liked one of them, you could get in touch with him,” she says. “If you would excuse me now.”
She leaves you to talk to other women. “BABE! Did you get a number or two?” your friend happily shows you the number of one of the guys she met. “Show me yours.”
“I got…uh…four,” you show your friend the information you got. “I just don’t know which guy I liked more. They were all four really…”
“Hot? Sexy? Fuckable?” she swoons. “You know, maybe two of them are up to a threesome.”
You choke on the air. “What?”
“Guys like shit like that.”
“I can’t ask them to have a-“ you huff. “Steve and Bucky are friends.” You lick your lips. “I mean. Friends share things right?”
“You nasty little slut,” your friend snickers. “Do you want to ask them for a night to remember?”
“I could just rename birthday and call it dick-day from now on,” you muse when your friend’s eyes widen in shock. “It was your idea, remember. I have a threesome on my bucket list too…”
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“Hi-hey,” you walk toward Steve and Bucky. “I got your number and was asking myself if you are up to having…” your eyes wander toward Dean and Ben. You frown and wonder when they got best buddies because Dean is laughing about something Ben said. 
“What did you ask yourself?” Steve places his hand on your shoulder. “Doll, talk to us.”
“I don’t know. I was wrecking my brain to decide on whom I want to call,” you sigh deeply. “I liked you, and your friend. But there are two other guys I liked too.”
“Oh-four-leaf clover of hotness,” Bucky smirks darkly. “What do you say, Stevie? Are we up to some competition? I’d like to see her on all fours, serving me and you like a good slut.”
“Gentlemen, did we already decide on who is going to have her first?” you gasp as Dean and Ben step toward you. 
“What? I don’t understand.”
“We talked about inviting you to spend the night with us, sweetheart,” Dean whispers in your ear. “What do you say, Y/N? Do you want to come with us and have a sexy four-leaf clover of hotness all night long?”
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scarletwritesshit · 1 month
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💮Gepard x Reader💮Arrangements
Looking at the fruits of his labor before him, Gepard realized that perhaps, he would’ve been far better off purchasing some flowers from a Belobog florist. Weeks, no, months of hard work had netted him plants that were only barely suitable as filler in a backyard arrangement. He couldn’t understand just how they did it. Gepard researched countless guides and followed the instructions on the seed packets as closely as possible, but they did not blossom nearly as beautifully as he hoped for them to.
In fact, they barely even blossomed at all. The few droopy buds of color could barely pass as flowers, with some buds never even opening up. The blossoms weren’t suitable as a gift for anyone for that matter, especially not a close friend whom he admired so greatly. The fawn lilies didn’t even bloom fully, and the crocuses were underwhelming, blooming far smaller than he expected.
Was it even possible for him to salvage this disaster? Perhaps he could cover his blunders with a variety of exotic grasses to hide his original intentions of constructing a flower bouquet. Unfortunately, the result would be more akin to a bundle of weeds than a bouquet of flowers. Buying flowers from a florist at this point was an option, but it didn’t quite convey the same meaning that a handmade, self-grown bouquet did. Regardless, Gepard wasn’t sure if he would be able to face them himself out of sheer embarrassment due to his lack of talent.
He was a Silvermane Guard captain. Gepard had gotten himself into far worse situations than this before.
Growing flowers was a tad bit different than combat, but regardless, he must adapt regardless of the problem at hand. He refused to throw away the countless weeks of work he spent on such a heartfelt gift.
Perhaps the solution was not to accent it with grasses, but rather, some leaves could salvage these scrapped plants and turn them into a beautiful work of art? Adding in a few twigs with leaves still on them could make for a luscious, tree-like appearance. Top it off with a few thick blades of grass to fill in any gaps remaining.
The end result was a rather full bunch of various plants arranged as precisely as his hands would allow him to. With a spare purple ribbon from Serval’s knick-knack collection, Gepard tied a bow around the bunch as tightly as he possibly could. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, resulting in the bow being rather small, but he viewed this as a rather positive result. A small bow wouldn’t overshadow his…masterpiece, if one could call it that.
Even with Gepard’s attempts at salvaging his mess, the entire arrangement was overall rather messy. Rather than a floral arrangement, it appeared to be more of a wrap of grass with twigs and the occasional large leaf sticking out in an ultimately pathetic attempt to hide the failures of Gepard’s gardening. He shifted the trimmings around as much as possible in an attempt to make his craftsmanship a bit less of an eyesore, but despite his best attempts, it could not compare to the professionally tended flowers that he could find at the florists.
He was far too stubborn to scrap his plan, especially after dedicating so much time to it. After staring at the completed “bouquet” before him, Gepard wondered if they would focus more on his failure to execute a simple task rather than his commitment to his hobby as a whole. He wanted to tweak it further to perhaps patch up a few remaining flaws, but he decided that any further attempts at salvaging his work would only hurt the final product further.
Now, all that was left was for him to face you in person. Arguably, he would much rather defend the entire city of Belobog solo than go through with this. The excitement of a battle made his blood rush in a good way, and more importantly, gave him an all too familiar rush of emotions. A supposedly simple and honest exchange of words was not one of his strengths. Just the thought of doing so made his heart race in an unexplainable way. His thoughts became scrambled against his attempts to retain his composure, and he felt himself becoming warm enough to be used as one of the city’s heaters.
All he had to do was hand you the bouquet of flowers and say what was on his mind…if he could even put what was on his mind into coherent words able to be spoken. With a strung together bundle of leaves and grass, he couldn’t help but feel as if the chance of embarrassing himself was far more likely than even a decent outcome. He kept thinking back to all of the struggles he had endured attempting to grow these plants only for such a lackluster outcome, but he took a deep breath and steadied himself. Gepard managed to calm himself and straighten out his thoughts, but your expected arrival immediately threw him off track. All of thinking and bracing for his confession? Absolutely for nothing, as he lost track of where to even begin with his words.
“Gepard? You said you wanted to talk to me about something,” you said.
“Ah, y-yes I do. There is an important matter that I must bring up with you,” he said.
Gepard seemed to have forgotten that a formal tongue is not necessarily appropriate in every situation. He held the hodgepodge arrangement behind his back.
“What is it, Geppie?” you asked. “You seem weirdly stressed.”
He cleared his throat, attempting to calm himself before speaking further. “It’s nothing detrimental, but it has been lingering on my mind for quite some time now.”
“And what would that be?”
Gepard stood awkwardly quiet for a moment as he debated his next course of action. He could give a heartfelt speech about everything he felt towards you, but to him, it felt as if it would drag on for too long, boring you for eternity. On the contrary, blurting out his feelings in a short and sweet manner seemed to be the more painfully rushed approach.
Gepard said absolutely nothing as he looked away and handed you the bouquet of flowers, or arrangement, to be more specific. He could neither bare to look at his mess nor the disgusted reaction he expected from you. Improper, it was, but Gepard felt as if his own emotions backed him into a corner.
There was no denying that his handcrafted arrangement was rather rough. What did survive his typical disastrous attempts at gardening were rather dull, and the leaves and grasses he accented the piece with could be found just about anywhere in a planter on the side of the street. Regardless, whether Gepard produced flowers fit for the royalty or the compost bin did not matter to you. He really went through time and energy to grow and arrange plants just for you, even when he could’ve given up and bought a premade arrangement from the florist.
All this time that he had to prepare and Gepard was still left without any words. He turned his head even further away in an attempt to hide his blush, but his entire face was turning red at this point. He quickly snuck a glance to see how you were reacting to the flowers, then immediately looked away, hoping you didn’t see him sneak a peek.
You took the thick arrangement out of his cold, metal-clad hand and gently brushed your fingers through the different leaves, observing every single leaf and blossom that had survived his wrath. The quality of the disheveled bundle was of none of your concern, as you could tell that Gepard clearly put his heart and soul into it. Gepard sighed as you observed it, as if he was awaiting cruel words of mockery.
“You made this, just for me?” you asked.
“Indeed, I grew these plants by myself, though I worry that the end result is not up to your standards.”
“Standards? Who do you take me for?”
With your free hand, you nudged Gepard’s face gently to face him towards you. A brief flash of fear filled his eyes, as he was still convinced that you were absolutely disgusted with his gift. However, that could be further from the truth, and rather than waste your words on a man clearly inexperienced with them, you instead showed him your appreciation for his kind gesture.
Catching him off guard, you stood on the tip of your toes to steal a quick kiss on his cheek, causing him to bury his face into his metal gauntlets. That was one way to charm a Silvermane Guard, though perhaps you had a hold on his heart with far less than that. The flowers he spent ages growing for you was proof of this, and was more than enough to show you the amount of sincerity and dedication he harbored for you.
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Moxxie Redesign🎵🐊
Made my own version of Moxxie for Fun!🎶
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I like Moxxies design! It’s very cute and gives off music conductor/thespian vibes well with the bow tie and coattails🎵🎶🎭
Biggest change I did was make him a Greed/Wrath type like Striker, but instead of being snake based, he’s a crocodile 🐊(My Crim’s def a croc!!!). Gave him a snout, claws, teeth, spikes, gave him more brownish yellow skin tones, colored his hair and gave him a thicker tail and legs. Didn’t add the eye rings, just slit pupils, but I can see them form when he’s angry or focusing on something, similar to how Moxxies sclera turns red when angry or alarmed.
Fun fact Crocodiles r asscociated with things like destruction, deceit and greed, fitting for his family origins on his dads side and Crocodiles, among other exotic animals are associated with the mob. But they can also mean good things such as protection, strength and adaptability. They can also mean things like ambiguity & duality, showing how Moxxie struggles with his identity and where he lies but can still be different from his father! It’s all up to him on the type of imp he wants to be.
Kept the music conductor vibe and added more such as leg spats, a vest and cute music note cufflinks🎶(Perhaps a gift from Millie) but also allude to slight Godfather vibes with the suit and red pin to allude a rose🌹. Show his origins being in organized crime with how sharp and well dressed he is. @a-sterling-rose pointed this out and how this connects him well with Blitz who also tries to move on from his past but can’t go cold turkey from the aesthetic fully.
Made his suit more gray to give off how he’s the more morally conflicted of I.M.P, trying to be more moral. Also went for more light goldish yellow to give off his sweet but timid nature, plus to give off Greed origins(eye for gold 🏆🌟👑).
Made his hair a bit more wavy to give off his mom’s more. Also colored it more, having his father’s genes.
Added more freckles along his snout.
Curved his nostrils to give off a slight devil horns 👿, to push him being Hellborn.
Gave him a pin for his association with I.M.P. Ngl Lovesart23 pin def stuck in my head for this, just fits for him very well.
Went with smaller horns, pointed them to give off music notes 🎶
Made him a bit more on the chubbier side.
I imagine he’s a bit taller than Millie and atleast around Blitz height more but still smaller than Loona.
Added a ring periced into his tail to give off a wedding ring 💍 . Headcanons, some imps pierce their rings on their tails.
What do u think? How would u redesign Moxxie? I’d love to know💖
Also made Millie, Loona & Stella🐂🐺🦢
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jonathanbiers · 2 years
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For the prompt meme, how about 20 and 34? Looking forward to reading whatever you come up with, I love your stuff 🥰
send me a pairing + a number and i'll write a mini-fic! 20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear  34. things you whispered in my ear  assuming you meant this for steddie! also full warning, i got carried away with this one. it's a lil angsty
Steve's running late; it's not his fault, really, even if it kind of is. He promised Dustin he'd take him to the nearest bigger city that morning, one with an exotic pet shop. Somehow, even after Mews, Dustin's enthusiasm for reptiles hadn't waned. He wanted a bearded dragon, and his birthday is coming up...
He didn't anticipate that he'd fall in love with the beast, too. He lost track of time, letting the little baby reptile — "Her name is Skurge, Steve!" he can hear Dustin's exasperated voice still — crawl all over him, cling to his shirt.
He didn't forget. He's just running late. This is what he tells himself as he parks in the street in front of Gareth's house, the open garage revealing all four members of Corroded Coffin inside, practicing. None of them notice him, the music is too loud for the engine of his car to be noteworthy. The song ends just as he's getting out of the car.
Ever since Eddie got out of the hospital, him and Steve are pretty close friends. Steve let him and Wayne stay at his house for a while, while they looked for a place after their trailer was torn to shreds. He didn't mind the company, welcomed it in fact. He thinks Eddie knows this, he still stays over from time to time. They take turns picking movies, listening to each other's music. Eddie visits Steve at work. Steve comes to Eddie's band practices. None of it is helping the silly little crush Steve has. It's making it worse, actually, having to watch the effortless way Eddie sings into the mic, eyes closed and skilled hands dancing along the fretboard of his guitar. It's not fucking fair.
The logical solution should be that Steve stops going, but he can't lie to himself. He loves the torture of it. Loves when Eddie turns to him when they're done, a little sweaty, breathing a little hard, his smile a little wild as he asks what Steve thinks. Steve just says it was good, never tells him what he's actually thinking. He can't very well say that he thinks he wants to kiss him until he's that breathless. He can't.
Because hanging out with Steve, being his friend, that's one thing. Steve's different than he was when they went to school together, he's a good person now, nice. Easygoing when he's not in babysitter mode. Even the rest of Corroded Coffin has come around to him, even if he had to bribe them with cold beer for a few weeks first.
He's not delusional enough to think he's Eddie's type, though. Eddie's never mentioned it, but Steve knows him — he likes metal, fantasy books, imaginative games. Steve, only half-jokingly, tried to help Dustin come up with a character for one of their D&D campaigns and got laughed at. He tried to start reading Lord of the Rings once while he was over at Eddie's, and felt like he was drowning in the words more than he was reading them. They're not from the same world, and that's okay. Being friends is enough.
Eddie's back is to the driveway, and none of the rest of Corroded Coffin notices Steve either as he walks up, weaving between the few cars parked there. He's just passing Gareth's dad's truck when he's able to hear the back half of their conversation.
Jeff and Eddie seem to be bickering, "...only sounds shit 'cause you're sulking 'cause your boyfriend isn't here."
"Wha—" Eddie sputters, "okay, first, he's not my boyfriend, what—"
"But you wish he was," Jeff goes on, monotone as he adjusts dials on an amp, as if he's discussing something as matter-of-fact as the weather.
"No, I don't," Eddie insists, and if Steve wasn't already frozen in place he would be now. "I don't— he's not even my type, come on."
"No?" Gareth asks, muffled as his head is bowed to adjust something on his drum kit. "Is that why you've spent the last thirty minutes going on about where's Steve, Steve is usually here by now, have any of you heard from Steve?"
Eddie's sputtering again, and Steve tries to ignore how his heart sinks when he begins to speak. "That's not— We're just friends, alright? Close friends, but I definitely don't like him like that— He's— he's a jock, for fucks' sake. He wears polos and spends an hour on his hair every day—"
"He's also nice and a good guy, you spent a full week convincing us yourself..." Gareth trails off as he lifts his head, must be satisfied with whatever he was messing with. He locks eyes with Steve, and there must be hurt evident on his face, because Gareth's brows draw together. "Eddie."
"Yeah, Steve's cool," Dan, their bassist cuts in, and Jeff nods in agreement.
Eddie keeps going, though. "Cool, sure. Doesn't mean I want to date him, and I'd really appreciate it if you guys stopped pestering me about it—"
"Eddie," Gareth says again, his voice insistent. Jeff notices, turns to follow Gareth's eyes. Steve is still frozen to the spot. Eddie is still going on.
"—Like, it's getting really fucking old and— ow, Jeff, what the fuck?" Jeff smacks Eddie on the arm to get him to stop, and gestures toward where Steve is standing.
Almost in slow motion, Eddie turns. So does Steve, though, finally snaps out of whatever has kept him rooted to the spot. It's one thing that now Gareth and Jeff know, but he doesn't want Eddie to see just how hurt he is by his words. Doesn't think he could take it, the look of pity. He's trying not to think, letting his feet take him back toward his car. Distantly, muffled behind Eddie's voice in his mind repeating all the reasons Steve isn't good enough, he hears Eddie calling his name. He ignores it, he doesn't want to hear whatever apology Eddie has for him.
"Steve, fuck— please, look at me." Steve feels a hand on his forearm, Eddie isn't grabbing him, just trying to get his attention.
Despite thinking better of it, Steve still turns, faces Eddie. He doesn't see pity, not exactly — guilt, sure, and something else. "It's alright," he says, feeling the opposite, "you don't have to apologize, it's— I get it, y'know? You don't have to...explain, or whatever. You don't like me back, it's fine, it's whatever—"
"I didn't mean it," Eddie blurts, eyes wide and looking everywhere but Steve's face. "I don't hate your hair or your shirts, I— wait," Eddie stops short, meets Steve's eyes, squints a little. "Back?"
Shit. "Um. I didn't..." Steve doesn't know what to say at this point, doesn't know how he can backtrack that. He thinks it's obvious considering his reaction to the conversation he walked into, but now it seems like Eddie had no idea.
Steve is still floundering when Eddie says, his voice soft and tinged with something like disbelief and wonder, "You like me?"
Steve just shrugs, and his voice sounds small to his own ears. "Yeah, but it's— You don't feel the same, and that's okay, so I'll...I'm just gonna go."
This time, when Steve turns, Eddie does grab his arm. He brings them face to face once again, and Steve's just about to open his mouth to say something when Eddie's hand moves to his cheek. All thoughts leave his head immediately, because now they're just...standing there, and Eddie's holding his face, looking at Steve like he's not sure he's real.
The moment feels like forever, but Steve knows it's only been a second, because he doesn't even have time to take a breath before Eddie's lips are on his. Thinks that might be for the best because it would've just been knocked out of him anyway. Eddie's a good kisser, and his hands are warm on Steve's cheek and his lower back. It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up that this is reality, it's not a daydream and he finally kisses Eddie back, lets his arms wrap around Eddie's shoulders. He hears the other three quarters of Corroded Coffin cheering, hollering, Gareth banging on his drums. He thinks they're assholes, he thinks he loves them.
It's over too soon, but finally Steve can breathe. "You..." he starts, his brows furrowing in confusion. "You said—"
"I lied," Eddie interrupts him, presses their foreheads together. "I just wanted them off my back about it. Steve, I've been kinda crazy about you for— Too fucking long."
That brings a laugh out of Steve, because the feeling is mutual. "Since when, huh? Tell me."
Eddie just pulls Steve close, and Steve thinks he's leaning in for another kiss, but instead his lips graze against the shell of his ear as he whispers, "Ever since you took a bite out of that bat."
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Darling
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TW: Smut. Language. Soft/Slight Sub Rafe. Soft Dom Rafe. 
SUMMARY: After running into Rafe’s ex, he realizes how much this affects you and makes it his mission to ensure you understand what you mean to him. 
WORD COUNT: 1400
*Requested*
Darling
Sofia. You’d heard her name at least half a million times as being the ‘girl before you’. The girl that Wheezie got along with so well she was like a sister. The girl that shared clothes, and secrets, with Sarah, and both Rose and Ward saw as being their son’s future. This was what got to you most as you entered the restaurant and she made her way over to you. Unfortunately for you,the fact she was a resident of Outer Banks meant you saw her quite often, even if it was usually from afar, as she ran in the same circles as you and Rafe, but always managed to evade her until tonight. 
“And this is Sofia-” As if you needed an introduction to the pristine girl standing before you, strong Latina roots making her exotic among those making up your shared group of friends; eyes of a vixen but features so angelic she promised the contrast of both saint and sinner. But you would try to maintain as much composure as possible despite the way she discussed her accolades so casually, even making it a point to trace Rafe’s arm every chance she could. It made your expression sour and fall weak with his hand over yours only worsening this as you knew he could sense this and yet did nothing to deter her as she would continue. 
“Actually, we’re going to head out, but…thanks…”
“Not even one dance for old time's sake?” She asked, that sultry voice pulling even Ward into her invitation as you repressed the tears in your eyes as you excused yourself to the bathroom before they cascaded down your cheeks. You would manage to escape in the nick of time before the door opened behind you. 
“Oh poor girl…if you can’t handle a little competition…how do you expect to handle him?” Her eyes descended you for a moment as your eyes narrowed in anger. 
“If you even can…I’m sure it is only a matter of time before he gets bored and comes back to what he knows…who can REALLY take care of him as I’m sure he is wanting something more than…missionary…calling you baby, just like he did to me…” Her hand suddenly rested on your forearm. 
“There’s no shame in it…You just…aren’t…enough…” She shrugged. 
“I’ll be sure to send you an invitation for when he-” You barreled out of the bathroom, marching away from her before crashing into Rafe. 
“Baby? You alright? What’s wrong?” It wasn't until he saw Sofia leaving the bathroom that he would understand. Letting out a sigh, he flashed a look of warning to her, before leading you home. But you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself out of the car as you felt too small to the steps you needed to take. 
“What did she say to you?” He asked with an exasperated breath, worsened when he saw the tears on your cheeks. “What the fuck did she say?”
“Nothing I didn’t already know…” You bowed your head, insecurities swallowing you whole before you watched him kneel between you. 
“Whatever she said, it isn’t true, okay? Sofia likes to be dramatic and cause problems, it’s why you’re so refreshing baby…you just make everything easy and-”
“Boring?” You asked beneath your continued tears as he tried to take your face between his hands, but you were steadfast in your pity, moving past him and into Tannyhill as everyone else had remained at the restaurant. 
“You aren’t boring, you’re relaxing…there’s a difference. I love everything about being with you and-” Something altered within you as you turned to face him, pushing him into the now closed front door and carrying his hands to your hips. After returning to reality following this surprise, he fell into you completely, holding you as he always had with such kindness. It was this very kindness you wanted to prove wrong. And so you led him by the lapels of his blazer until he would be taken to the couch. Pushing him rather forcefully onto its cushion, you straddled him, leading your lips to his ear. 
“I want you to fuck me Rafe. Hard and deep-right here, right now…please-” But to this, he collected your hands as he saw the tears continue down your cheeks. 
“Baby-”
“Just PLEASE!” You pulled his belt from its buckle, pulling it from his hips as he fell into the rush of your kiss on his neck and motions against his hips. 
“I need you to fuck me, Rafe…I need…” But to this, he only collected your face even harder, brushing your tears away. 
“Why do you want it like this?”
“Because I want to show you I’m not…we can be exciting and-”
“Baby, every time IS exciting…”
“No, it’s not. You’re gonna get bored with me and go back to-” You stopped, bowing your head in shame. 
“That’s what she said?” He watched you collect your face for a moment, tears continuing behind your palms as he lifted you around him and to his bedroom. 
“Rafe…” But he set you softly onto the edge of the bed, moving between your legs and pulling your heels from your sore feet, offering a momentary massage, before continuing up to the stockings at rest at your hips. 
“I’m going to show you why you’re perfect for me, baby…” You bent into yourself at the title that you used to adore that you could only picture him calling her now. It was all consuming. 
“But you…you called her that too…right?” He paused, a smile cresting on his face as your eyes narrowed. 
“Then how about…darling? A word, just for us-for you?” You nodded. 
“Good…Now lay back, darling…let me show you how I can take care of you-” 
“I already know-”
“And THEN I’ll show you just how much you take care of me…” He silenced you before pulling the skirt of your dress above your hips, connecting his tongue between your folds in quickening succession until you began to arch beneath him. 
“Rafe…RAFE…”
“The way you moan for me is enough…the way your body reacts to me IS enough…” He spoke behind clenched teeth, returning to you with vigor, almost anger, as he continued. 
“When you come, it’s music and when you say my name, it’s…fuck, I live for it…I swear to God, you’re enough…But right now…” He suddenly paused, lifting from your thighs and pulling you towards him with a hand to the back of your neck. 
“I have to show you…” You nodded as he removed his pants until they fell to his ankles, this allowing him to be freed from his restrain. 
“You always feel so good for me…” He explained as he set himself inside of you, the familiar stretch making you groan as you clutched around him, his head resting against your forehead. 
“You always take me so well…I have to pace myself because I could come inside you in less than a minute if I didn’t…”
“Rafe…”
“And you…God, everything you do…it’s more than enough-it’s too much…And I know I don’t always show it…I want to…But there aren’t enough words…I swear it…but I love you…I love you so fucking much and anybody who makes you question that will deal with me-she’ll deal with me-” As he began to groan, you took hi sface into your hands. 
“No…I don’t want anything but us…Just us-”
“Then take it, baby…Take all of it…all of me…” You nodded, feeling tears form on his own cheeks as he buried himself into your shoulder. The vibrations from his moaning having reverberated through both of your bodies as he took his nails into your hips, eating into your skin, before he whimpered into you. 
“Darling…mine. I’m yours-you’re mine…”
“Yes, Rafe…YES!”
“Yes…Fuck baby-darling..shit!” You pulled him tighter into you, feeling his body relinquish that tension and that admiration into you as you were quick to join him, trembling in his arms as he pulled you even tighter against him. 
“THIS is enough…This is everything-” He moved onto his elbows. “YOU are everything to me…I swear to God or…whatever you believe in most-”
“You.” He scoffed. 
“I love you, darling.”
“I love you, Rafe.”
Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @my-baexht-ls @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird-blogd @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae
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yourejinx · 2 years
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//Let me In// (Azriel x F!Reader x OC)
A/N: this is something very new to me, something that i'm still trying out so bear with me. I've got this idea to bring other characters to a side Azriel story, sometimes following the events from the books sometimes not.
SUMMARY: Destiny is a cruel thing, bringing together two people who seem to still be hung up in the past.
WARNINGS: Angst, slow burn.
SIDE NOTE: English isn't my first language so I apologize for any grammar mistakes.
I don't know how I feel about this chapter :/
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Dawn Court (Vol.3)
Gold-rose and soft lilac skies welcomed me as I winnowed right into the beautiful gardens of the Dawn Court's mountain palace. I was feeling nauseous and probably looked just the part, because next thing I know two winged guards were instantly by my side as I made my way to the stairs of the Grand Palace. They recognised me as the emissary of the Night Court's political issues, though as a Theran I was always welcomed at the Dawn Court. Apparently the courtiers seemed to enjoy having an "exotic" guest walking among them. It was exciting, i'm guessing, for the many rumors that had extended all across Prythian about the gifts my people possesed.
Some tales were spread through the centuries about us, it was said that we had the gift to predict the future, to turn things into gold, to stop time, and more. The theories were actually hilarious, no doubt some Therans had benefit from them at some point. But the truth is, they didn't know half of it. All that Prythian knew about us were our skills in battle but they couldn't tell how deep our power actually run. We came as harmless, friendly travellers and often got away with it.
To the High Lord of Dawn I was his guest first, emissary second; I'd made sure to always have good relations with other Courts, despite the one I was serving in. I was trained to do so, people tended to be less hostile around those who they trusted, and I made sure to built my reputation around their preferences, even when it meant feeding those ridiculous rumors. Thera was clossed off to the world, meaning no one that wasn't born there could ever find its warded lands, but it didn't mean that we couldn't go out into other territories. As a matter of fact, Thera wasn't really interested in the fae world, its main concern relied solely in learning how much they knew about us. And too make sure it all stayed the same. No one really wanted to initiate a war with the fae.
Now, did all of this implicate that the High Lords trusted blindly in me? Absolutely not. They were very reserved about what they let on around me, mostly because I was at the service of the terrible High Lord of Night, but I didn't care. Once inside there was nothing I couldn't obtain. Indeed ever the wolf dressed as sheep.
Thesan was waiting upstairs alongside his lover on one of the many open gallerys of the glistening castle. There seemed to be a lot of movement around the place, servants came and went hurriedly carrying clothing, decorations, flowers and many different pastries. Murmuring resonated through the long hallways; a party, they were preparing for a party.
"Ah, welcome back to my home, lovely lady" Thesan greeted with a polite smile, stepping away from his lover. The Peregryns flanked both my sides watching carefully as if I was about to give in and faint at any moment.
"Are you hurt?" The High Lord inquired.
I swallowed dry. Running away from Azriel as soon as the mating bond had snapped into place had drained me to exhaustion. A pounding headache and increasing nausea threatened to knock me off, as if every instinct of my body was warning me to go back to him. The bond felt stronger, brighter inside and harder to ignore. I fought to hide it, to mask the lingering scent. Was it supposed to be this intense?
"No, my Lord, just tired." I muttered lowly. "Thank you for recieving me" I said and bowed my head.
"My dear, I hope they're not overworking you at that Court. You're always welcomed to stay with us." Thesan offered "Now come, you should rest before the party beggings. We shall discuss whatever business tomorrow" He cut a glance at the servants passing by to indicate them to show me my room on the guest wing.
As an emissary I had written to the High Lord a week prior to my visit claiming I had urgent matters to discuss. I wasn't here as a friend of the Court, but as one of Rhysand's most trusted ambassadors, so it took me by surprise the eagerness with which they had invited me into one of their celebrations.
I didn't have enough energy to cuestion it so i just followed the faery into a beautiful large room with wide windows and flowy pinkish courtains. They left a change of clothes—more appropiate for a party than my Night Court formal attire— before silently making their way out. I dragged my feet across the warm coloured room and let myself fall face first into the soft silky matress of the plush bed. Everything here was so delicately decorated, from the lavender flowers resting in crystal clear jars beside the window where they would reflect the many colours of the early morning skies, to the hand-crafted chandeliers hanging from the opalescent stone of the ceiling. I let myself be lulled to sleep by the armony and beauty of it all, eager to turn off the whirlwind of emotions in my chest.
I woke up at the sound of light knocking on my door. The same faeries from before had come to run a bath for me and help me get ready for the night. I didn't fully register what was all the fussiness about, but they told me the Court was throwing a ball to celebrate their recently earned prosperity after Under the Mountain and to honour their newly arrived guest. They didn't say who it was but they shared a knowing playful look between them that left me feeling unsettled. I got dressed in a light pink gown with embroidered flowers all across the heart-shaped corset top, and they braided small strands of my hair to the back of my head so the ashy coloured ones fell delicately on my face. I wasn't used to look so...soft, I was usually more on the edgy style, dark colours, more pronunced necklines and cuts to allow my body to move freely, and small metal pieces as an informal version of armour.
I got so used to the Night Court style that it just felt strange.
The ballroom was at its peak when I crossed the archway entry, glasses of sparkling wine flowed everywhere and cheerful music played all around the room just loud enough to accompany the dancing couples without killing the conversation. I wasn't particularly in the mood for partying given the circumstances, but I had to admit i was curious about this new visitor that had everyone so excited. So I stuck around for a while, making light conversation here and there and playing fortune teller just to please the wishes of the courtiers. When I grew tired of it I stepped into an open balcony resting my arms on top the banister to take in the whole beauty of the Dawn's country side, it reminded me so much of...
"It does make you feel a little homesick, huh?"
The scent hit me before the sound reached my ears; it was electric and dense like the air before a rainstorm. My breath got trapped in my lungs, eyes watering, when I caught the voice, low and deep and gentle. How long had it been since I last heard it? It took all the will inside of me not to let the tears fall as I so very slowly turn around to look at him. Tall, broad shoulders, dark brown hair, one eye of sky blue, the other like the darkest of nights; a thin scar run along the former. I was looking at a ghost, a very handsome ghost.
"Asta..." I muttered, voice quivering. I felt as if I was on the verge of breaking.
He gave me one of his signature stunning smiles while stepping further into the light. He wore a black button up tunic that let the golden skin of his toned arms show, a black inked tattoo swirled around his bicep in intricated runes. The twin to the one on my right arm.
"How is it possible?" I couldn't control the thundering of my heartbeat against my ribs.
"I can't believe you're real either" He confessed. No one dared to move.
"Ah, fantastic! You've met." Came the voice of Lord Drystan's voice, one of the courtiers, that was walking toward us. "Y/N, this is our guest of honour tonight...Sir Asta has been kind enough these last couple of months helping our people get back in track after what happened. He says he comes from Thera as well, and was very eager to meet our beautiful fortune teller."
The Lord went on and on but I couldn't take my eyes off the man standing before me, too afraid he would dissappear if I closed my eyes. Everyone else just blurred, fading away in the background; it was just him and I in that moment.
"Well, I'll leave you two to get to know each other then" Lord Drystan gave us a mischevious grin, noticing that none of us was actually listening, before going back to the ball.
"Sir..huh?" I smirked, blinking away the dampness of my eyes. He let out a breathy laugh.
"I still find it awkward, all the mannerisms" He explained vaguely. Asta looked at me up and down, smiling proudly when he caught eye of the necklace I wore. "You still have it" he said, amusement dancing on his eyes.
"Of course" I took the small moon in between my fingers "you gave it to me."
"And you're wearing pink, that's two things I wasn't prepared for." He teased.
"Ah, it took me by surprise too. I don't think it's my colour though." I replied surveying the luxurious fabrics of the gown.
"Every colour is your colour. You look beautiful in everything" His hand found my forearm still resting on the banister, the touch was warm as he caresed smooth circles on my skin.
Asta always felt like the sun, warm and bright, and mighty. He kept it hidden beneath that dark mysterious aura of him, the one he put on display for outsiders. But to anyone who truly knew him, he was the kindest soul you could ever cross paths with. People back home loved him, rightly so.
"I thought you were..."I shook my head, the memories quickly flooding my mind "I found your mask buried under a pile of Loyalists, your jabalin was just a few feet away." My voice came out muffled and I didn't dare avert my gaze from our hands.
"It's a long story, and I promise to tell you about it any other day." He searched my eyes "For now I just want to—can I..?"
I didn't let him finish that sentense and threw my arms around him, burying my face on his chest. His arms wrapped around me almost instantly and he rested his chin atop my head.
"I've missed you so much Y/N" he whispered against my hair.
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I was still processing what I've learned about what went down for our people at the War against the Loyalists; we had been sold out by one of our own, as a result Asta's entire clan had been decimated and our village had suffered at the hands of a Tyrant's regime. Asta and his brother Zadkiel had been forced to go back and they've been fighting to make things right ever since.
"I thought your body had been burned along with the rest, the Dark One told me you weren't a part of our world anymore" Asta had said to me just the night before, eyes full of tears. For five centuries we'd thought each other dead. For five centuries I've mourned the death of my first love, and now he was standing just a few levels up, watching as I trained with Cassian, in the house I had shared with my mate.
I haven't told him about the whole Azriel situation yet, we hadn't had the chance to properly talk about it since we weren't granted a moment alone at Dawn's palace; the females of the court were always following Asta around, some of them even flirted shamelessly with him and he was just too polite to tell them to fuck off. I almost rolled my eyes at the memory.
"Why didn't you tell him?" Cassian asked as he trew a punch at me.
We've been sparring in the mornings outside the House of Wind since I got back from the Dawn Court three days ago. I honestly didn't know what to expect, the tension around the group was dense, Mor barely even looked at me. Azriel was out on duty, at least I didn't have to face him right away. It still made my heart sunk to my stomach.
"You know why." I answered dodging his fist and going for his legs. "Tall, blonde, gorgeous, rings a bell?"
He stopped my kick midway and threw me back a couple of steps.
"He's your mate."
"Doesn't change anything"
"It changes everything and you know it. You're just being a coward."
I was gettin' more worked up by the second and he knew it, Cassian was provoking me just to get me to let go of all that had happened in the past week.
Well, it was working. I concentrated half of my power on my right fist when he got close again and punched him square on his jaw. He turned around wincing in pain.
"It's not fair Cassian."
"You left without saying a word. He looked as if you had kicked him across the face. I think that would've been more merciful"
Cassian picked up his sword from the ground and pointed it at me, so I grabed my own blade and for a few seconds we just sized each other up.
"What was I supposed to do?" I asked, at this point anger took over me.
"Not running away again." He swung his sword at me and the sound of iron on iron cut through the air.
"You don't get it" I spat. He pushed harder against the grip on my sword.
"Explain then" Cassian gave me a wolfish smile, he was confident he'd win.
"I've watched him love the same woman for five hundred years. I've dealt with everything he was feeling for almost half a century" I kicked him on the knee and used the distraction to make him drop the weapon. Then I used his own strenght against him and threw him on his ass, the edge of my own blade pressed against his chest. "and she was standing right there. So tell me, Cassian, how cruel I've been to him." I narrowed my eyes at him in defiance. "I'll ask you again, what do you think I was supposed to do?"
He didn't try to get up, his eyes softened a bit.
"Talk to each other, you're good for him."
I withdrew my sword back.
"And what about what's good for me?" My voice came out like a whisper as I catched my breath.
"I've never seen anyone kick Cassian's ass like that" Feyre spoke walking toward us.
Right, this was supposed to be a fighting lesson for her.
"You've never seen Amren fight then" I told her half smiling. She laughed.
"I don't mean to meddle in your business, given that we don't know each other that well, but Azriel he's one of the good ones, you know? And I think you're too." Her tone was gentle, understanding. "I saw something that day back in the Town House, the way his eyes shone when you smiled at him.."
I felt my throat close in on itself, I couldn't allow myself to get the wrong idea, to start wondering about the what ifs; because even if there was something there, he still loved another woman. And I... I was still trying to figure out how I felt for him and where I stood with Asta. It had felt so good to be wrapped in his arms, to laugh together, spend time together; making up for lost time. Asta and I, we had always belonged to each other, no one understood me like him and he claimed the same about me; we were best friends, we made sense. For a long time a part of me thought he was my mate, but we were too young then for the bond. I guess that part of me refused to let that thought go. Accepting the bond with Az meant loosing Asta a second time.
"I know about Mor" she continued "and that it can be intimidating. I'm also guessing the handsome male upstairs is to you what Mor is to Azriel" she lifted a brow "but I still think you should talk, sort it out, see what he has to say. He cares for you, that much I know, and he'll respect whatever you decide."
"He comes back tonight." Cassian informed "For the record, I think you know what you want, you're just too afraid to take it."
I watched as they went back to training, and let their words sink in deep. I couldn't keep avoiding Az, he didn't deserved it. Even if he ended up rejecting me, even if it break my heart.
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I couldn't get any sleep that night. I've been staying in the House Of Wind for the time being instead of my own place while Asta stuck around. I knew he'll have to go back to Thera at some point.
The evening had been...emotional, to say the least. I was feeling overwhelmed by everything and ended up crying in silence in the small private library room. Now I lied on the couch, legs stretched out one on top of the other, head resting in one hand while I flipped through the pages of some book. I'd stopped paying attention to it about twenty minutes ago, it was well past midnight and still no signs of Azriel. I didn't really expected for him to show up here but not knowing wether he was ok or not had my anxiety building up. I knew Rhys had sent him to look for any weaknesses on the wards that sorrounded the human Queens lands.
"What are you doing still up?" His voice hit me so suddenly that I almost dropped the book I was holding. I have been so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't see the shadows taking form.
He was leaning against the doorframe, wings tucked in tight, arms crossed over his chest. His scent filled the air between us, cedar and mist, I let it invade my senses. He was alright.
"I couldn't sleep...you hadn't came back yet." I muttered not trusting my voice.
"Now you know how I felt for two weeks while you were gone to the Winter Court."
Before I could open my mouth to reply he cut me off with a knowing look. "Don't give me that spies-web bullshit again. You belong to me. Bond or not." He stated. "To all of us in fact. You're part of this family and I can't stand the thought of something happening to you."
My heart was thrumming wildly inside my ribcage and I feared I would burst into tears again.
"I'm sorry" I breathed out. I didn't know what else to say.
He crossed the room and sat down next to me. Azriel was extremely calm and I couldn't tell if that was a good sign or not, he had a tendency to hide his emotions. Pretty much like me. And he had a shield up at his end of the bond.
"How long?" he asked so low it sounded barely above a whisper. "For how long have you known?" He wasn't looking at me, he was staring at his feet. Head hanging between his shoulders.
I swallowed dry. "Forty years"
"So that night on the rooftop...?" He let out a deep sigh "Did you ever consider I deserved to know?"
I shook my head. I didn't know if I wanted to run from him, from the feelings that hung heavily on my chest, or if I wanted to drop to my knees to beg him for his forgivness.
"What would you have done then?" I asked but looked away from him, making myself much more smaller in my place. "I'm not stupid, Az. I know you love her. Even if you don't admit it to yourself."
"You don't know what you're talking about." His tone was more severe now. "Are you really going to pretend this has nothing to do with the male sleeping next door?"
Of course he knew about Asta.
When I didn't say anything he asked again.
"Do you wish it was him?"
It hurt and hurt and hurt all over, it felt like a hole the size of a crater had ripped open my chest.
"Do you wish it was her?" My voice quivered by the end and he finally look at me.
Glossy eyes that mirrored mine stared back at me for a long minute but he didn't say anything. Instead he leaned over and pressed a featherly like kiss to my forehead, so soft I thought I was imagining it.
"Goodnight, Y/N." he muttered before winnowing away into shadows.
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thelastspeecher · 8 months
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I was minding my own business at work today, just doing something, idly thinking about my nonsense. And then out of nowhere, like a burst of divine inspiration, an exchange that would take place in my Accidental Abduction AU appeared in my brain. And then I wrote a whole scene so that I could put that interaction in something.
So here's a random, out of the blue Accidental Abduction AU write. It takes place immediately following this one. Enjoy.
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              Stan followed the girl alien through the spaceship halls.  At first, the ship had reminded him of the things on Star Trek.  The general shape and construction of the hall and rooms still did, but it wasn’t quite as fancy and clean.  The ship looked a bit worn, like it had been used for a long time.  There were also intermittent decorations, most of them looking like they were either purchased at a craft fair or made by children at school.  Stan slowed to look at a vase that had been tucked away in a corner.  He would have expected the vase to house some weird alien plant, but the flowers inside were regular Earth roses.
              “My mother loves that kind of flower,” the girl alien said, noticing Stan’s distraction.  Stan’s attention quickly snapped back to her.  “We do not often go planetside when we are near Earth, but whenever we do, my father insists on procuring some for her.  He even found seeds a few trips ago, which has allowed my mother to grow her own.  They are not the same, though.  Something about our atmosphere or climate makes them grow…different.”
              “You guys go to Earth?” Stan asked, walking again.  The girl alien began to walk as well.  “Like, beam down on the planet?”
              “We do go down to Earth, but we land rather than teleport down.  My parents are, hmm, hopefully this translates properly.  They are…old school.  They do not like the teleportation function.”
              “Yeah, parents can be sticks in the mud sometimes,” Stan mumbled.  He frowned at the very inhuman alien girl.  “How the hell do you guys visit Earth without the government capturing you to dissect or whatever?”  The alien girl smiled, but this time, to Stan’s relief, hid her needlelike teeth.
              “We have our ways of visiting without drawing suspicions.”  The hallway suddenly opened into a wide room.  A white table, laden with exotic-looking food, was set in the middle of the room, ringed by white stools.  Underneath the table was a slick dark red rug and decorations like those in the hallway hung on the walls.  An alien with magenta hair like the girl alien and light pink skin was cleaning the kitchen area in the corner.  Next to the kitchen area was an entry to another hallway.  One of the walls was actually a large window, looking out into the void of space.  Stan was tempted to walk over to the window, but before he could, the very first alien that Stan had met on the ship spoke.
              “Ah!” said the alien, the father of the family.  He was sitting at the table, as was the alien girl’s brother.  The alien dad smiled at Stan.  “You have finally brought us our guest.”
              “He was distracted by the roses.”
              “I would imagine he was surprised to see something from Earth on our ship,” said the pink alien cleaning the kitchen.  Judging by her voice and general appearance, she was the mom of the family.  The alien mom turned around and scowled at her son and daughter.  “I am so disappointed in you two for not letting us know early enough to return this poor boy home.”  The alien girl and alien boy bowed their heads sheepishly.  Stan stood in the entryway awkwardly, uncertain of what to do.
              “Please, come sit,” the alien dad said.  Stan hesitantly walked over to the table and sat on one of the stools.  At first, the seat of the stool was far too low for him, but it automatically adjusted for his height, getting taller until he could reach the table properly.
              Makes sense they’ve got their chairs set short.  They’re all way taller than me.  Stan glanced around, mentally taking stock of the aliens’ heights.  The girl and boy were both at least six feet, while the dad was at least seven and the mom was nearing eight.  Are women taller than men for this species?  The alien dad coughed politely, drawing Stan’s attention.
              “When we first met, I was too flustered to ask for your name.  Would you mind sharing it with us?”
              “Uh, Stan.”  When Stan didn’t elaborate, the alien mom prompted him.
              “Earth names from your culture tend to consist of a given name and surname.  Could you provide us with your full name?” the alien mom asked.
              “How do you know about- y’know what, never mind.  My full name is Stanley Pines.  But call me Stan.”
              “Stan,” the alien mom said experimentally.  She smiled.  “How quaint.”
              Dunno if I agree with that assessment, but I’m not gonna argue with the people I have to rely on for the next year.  Ugh, I’ve got to depend on these guys for a full fucking year!
              “Well, Stan,” the alien dad said, “you will likely be unable to pronounce our names, so we shall have to come up with a workaround for that.  Now, however, it is time to eat.  We have done our research and made some food that should nourish you well.”
              “None of this stuff is gonna poison me?” Stan asked.  He suspiciously eyed the item directly in front of him, which looked like a small loaf of bright red bread with blue flecks.
              “Correct,” the alien mom said with a nod.  “I am familiar with what foods humans can and cannot eat and have removed all items harmful to you from the table.”
              “Um.  Okay.”
              “We will serve you,” the alien boy said quickly.  “That way you do not have to worry you are doing something wrong.”
              “…Okay,” Stan repeated.  He sat silently as the aliens filled a metal plate with the items on the table.  When the plate was placed in front of him, he stared at it.  Almost everything was a color that made alarm bells go off in his head.
              If I saw food on Earth that looked like this, it would either kill me or cost about a thousand bucks.  He grimaced.  But I don’t really have a choice.  Stan picked up the utensil he had been given, which was just a spork, and scooped up the bright orange mashed potatoes with dark red gravy.  He hesitantly took a bite.  His eyes widened.  The “potatoes” tasted like caramelized onions, while the “gravy” had a strong beefy yet cheesy flavor.  It combined to form something Stan recognized.  This tastes just like French onion soup!  What the hell?
              The first bite was enough to awaken Stan’s stomach.  His hunger now roaring and curiosity about the food piqued, Stan quickly scarfed down everything on his plate.  To his delight and confusion, all the food was delicious and most of it tasted like something he’d had on Earth.
              “I knew the mashed rom would be a winner,” the alien mom remarked as she watched Stan inhale his food.  “It is my mother’s favorite.”  Other than that, the alien family left Stan alone during the meal, talking amongst themselves instead of trying to pull Stan into the conversation.
              Under most circumstances, I’d be offended.  But I’m honestly just relieved.  I don’t want to talk to these guys.  Stan looked at the alien boy and girl, the closest things he had to peers on the ship.  The alien boy noticed and nodded silently at Stan before turning back to his sister.  Not right now, at least.  I need some space to deal with all this.
              Stan finished his first serving, as well as his second and third, before he was satiated.  Now that the growling in his stomach had been resolved, a new and urgent need made itself known.  Stan crossed his legs and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the alien family.
              “Do you need something, Stan?” the alien dad asked.
              “Uh, yeah.  Where’s your bathroom?” Stan asked.  The aliens all cocked their heads curiously.
              “Do you need to bathe?” the alien mom asked.
              “I mean, eventually, but not right now.”
              “Try a different word,” the alien dad suggested.  “Often, the translators work literally, and turns of phrase or odd terminology are translated incorrectly.”
              “Um.  The restroom?” Stan tried.  The alien boy frowned.
              “You mean your bedroom?” he asked.
              “No!  I- ugh.”  Stan sighed.
              I was trying to be polite.  I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth like I usually do.  But polite clearly isn’t working.
              “I need to take a piss,” Stan blurted out.  The aliens all blinked.
              “Oh!” the alien boy said.  “You are asking for the toilet.”
              “Yes.”
              “I will show you the way.”  The boy alien got up from the table.  His sister scowled at him.  “What?”
              “You offered just to get out of cleaning the dishes,” the alien girl said, crossing her arms.
              “No, I did not!  I-”
              “Neither of you are going to get out of any chores,” the alien mom said.  “Your father can help Stan.”  The alien kids groaned but began to clear the table.  The alien dad and Stan both stood.
              “Follow me,” the alien dad instructed.  Stan followed the alien dad out of the dining area/kitchen and back into the same hall that he had been through before.  “Luckily, your room is next to one of the- what did you call it?”
              “Um, a bathroom?”
              “An interesting name, given the baths are elsewhere,” the alien dad murmured.
              “On Earth they’re in the same room.”
              “Odd.  Regardless, your room is next to one of the…bathrooms on the ship.  The room that actually has the baths, however, is past the eating area.  Will you need to bathe before going to sleep?”
              It’s been a while since I had a bath that wasn’t just baby wipes…
              “Uh, yeah.”
              “I will send my son to fetch you from your room after he and his sister have completed their chores.”  They arrived in front of yet another circular door.  Like the previous doors Stan had seen on the ship, the alien dad placed his hand on the door, causing it to light up purple, then blue, then finally descend into the floor.  Before Stan could step into the bathroom, the alien dad spoke again.  “I must apologize again for the circumstances under which you came into our lives.  Rest assured, we will do our best to make you feel comfortable, perhaps even like one of the family.”
              “…Sure.”
              “If not family, then at least friends,” the alien dad said.  Stan nodded.
              “That feels more likely.”
              “Then that shall be our goal!” the alien dad said jovially.  He smiled as warmly as he could with his nightmarish teeth.  “I will be leaving an item you can use to entertain yourself in your room.  Please let me know if you would prefer something else.”
              “…Sounds good,” Stan mumbled.  The alien dad walked away.  Stan entered the bathroom, the door closing behind him.
              After using the toilet – which was thankfully very Earthlike in design – and struggling with the door a bit, Stan left the bathroom.  Now that he had figured out the trick to opening the doors, he entered his bedroom without any issue.  There was something placed on the desk in front of the massive window.  Stan walked over to it and picked it up.  His eyes widened.  It was a sketchbook.  A small box of writing utensils that looked similar to crayons had been set beside the sketchbook.
              I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.  Stan walked up to the window.  He stared out silently for a few moments.  Off in the distance, he could make out some asteroids.  Stan walked back to the desk.  He sat down, picked up one of the weird space crayons, and set the tip to the paper.  The lines were jagged at first, as he got used to the alien writing implement.  But eventually, a rough sketch of the asteroids formed.  Stan sat back with a small smile on his face.
              This, though, I can work with.
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papasbaseball · 1 year
Text
Primo x Reader (Tillandsia Bulbosa)
+18 CONTENT NOT FOR MINORS. MINORS KEEP SCROLLING
Pairing: Primo x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Plant Aphrodisiacs so dubcon. Plant Tentacles.
Summary: Your search for welcome home presents for the band leads you into the vines of a plant with a salacious appetite. Maybe you shouldn't have stolen from Primo's garden: he thinks you'll make an excellent host.
Word Count: 2,438
Notes: I am continuing my AO3 migration of works written before I created this account. Enjoy!
AO3 Link
Clip. The pruning shears cut through another yellow rose. You'd snipped it near the base of the prickly bush so it'd be extra long, matching the others. So far you had collected 11, just one short of your bouquet for Aether.
All the ghouls, ghoulettes, and Papa were coming home to the Ministry from their latest tour leg. Your bank account was sitting at zero, so you had to get creative for the homecoming party. Raiding Primo's garden was the only solution, especially since the gifts needed to be over the top with their latest success.
Clip. The final rose fell into your hand. Fishing into the pocket of your habit, you pulled out a turquoise satin ribbon you'd nicked from the costuming department. You tied a pretty bow around the thorny stems and began the hunt for your next gift.
Sodo would probably like something fun and spikey. Walking the gravel paths, you searched for something to please the feisty ghoul. There were so many different plants and flowers, growing into the walking path as if they were begging to be chosen. None of them seemed to speak to you, so you kept looking.
Past a bush of hydrangeas, you noticed a worn wooden and glass door. The peeling paint on the glass read "Exotics" and something else that was no longer legible.
That's exactly what I need!
Creaking the door open, a rush of humid air clung to your face. It was warmer inside this section of the greenhouse and you found yourself wondering how the temperature controls of it worked. The heat acted like steroids to these plants, Monstera leaves the size of your torso fluttering from the air pressure change.
Closing the door behind you, you looked for something reasonably sized and not too conspicuous. While you wanted to wow, you weren't looking to raise any investigations into prized plant disappearances. A few Birds of Paradise should do the trick.
Batting away tropical fronds, a curious flower caught your eye. Red tendrils curled and swirled, tangling with each other and the green tendrils that must have been its leaves. It was an impressive sight, reminding you of a blown glass sculpture you'd once seen.
Carefully, you reached out to touch it, dying to know what it felt like. To your surprise, one of the red tendrils curled around your pinky. It must have been one of those moving plants, like a Venus Flytrap or Morning Glory. While it was cute, you needed to untangle the tendril and continue your search.
No sooner had the bouquet of yellow roses touched the wooden edge of the plant bed, than another tendril, this time green, wound its way around your wrist. Prying it up proved to be impossible, so you tried tugging.
The plant gripped tighter with each pull to its tendrils. You turned back, looking for where you'd set your pruning shears: if it wasn’t going to come off willingly, you'd cut the damn thing off. The pruning shears were on the bed opposite your clingy plant.
Your ankle caught on something as you tried to walk over. Horror filled your body at the sight of two thick vines wrapped around both ankles.
Heart quickening, you struggled harder and harder, trying desperately to reach those life-saving shears as more and more vines wrapped around your body. You were going to meet your Dark Lord below. There was only one reason a plant didn't let go of its prey.
"Help!" you cried out. It was a long shot attempt to be saved as you'd specifically snuck in during lunchtime when everyone would be in the cafeteria.
You were at least 3 feet in the air now, probably about to be thrown into the plant's hidden maw, when you felt the vine curl further up your leg to rest on your ass. There was a prickly sensation as it pressed harder into the flesh, but it quickly subsided, a wave of calm passing over you.
More tendrils extended from the plant and you watched in spaced-out fascination as they snaked into your habit. They pulled and ripped at seams and fabric, soon leaving you bare.
Usually, you'd be shivering in the cool fall air, but the warmth and humidity of the greenhouse felt like a warm embrace to your naked form. Two flower-tipped tendrils came up to complete the embrace, latching each to a nipple.
A small moan of pleasure escaped, stamens dancing about and around the stiffening peaks. The feeling was unlike any other: touches featherlight but expert as you felt the warmth rapidly pooling in your core.
The third flower against your clit had you pulling at your botanical restraints. The ghosting touches were bringing you closer and closer to your edge, but you needed more. Pussy dripping, you begged the plant for harder stimulation or something to fill the emptiness.
Obliging your whining, a sizable vine crept up, probing the opening of your soaked cunt. The teasing was torturous, hands gripping at the tendrils that restrained them. Satisfied with your state of arousal, it pushed up into you. You whimpered at the girth, perfectly thick and writhing.
Your legs shook helplessly in their plant supports, body wracked with cries for pleasure and mercy.
"I see you've found Tillandsia Bulbosa, little dove."
You should have been embarrassed by your state of undress, but the wriggling of the vine against a sweet spot inside of you was more important.
Trying to form a response, you only managed an unintelligible grunt as the plant thrusted into you, brushing against your cervix.
"There’s a reason this room is off limits. It looks like it’s already administered the aphrodisiac, considering I could hear your cooing from my office on the opposite side of the greenhouse."
His linen gardening robes pooled on the ground as he examined the base of the plant "The seed pod hasn't been deposited yet."
"Seed pod?" you drooled out, trying to focus on the pleasure at hand.
"Sì cara. This is a parasitic plant. It needs a host to reproduce. Usually, it finds a wild animal, but in this case…" He traced a pointed but groomed nail on the skin above the thicket of hair at the apex of your thighs. "Just relax, suora."
Something larger sought permission for entrance into your folds. You struggled, unsure if it would fit. The stretch was tight, and you felt tears prick your eyes.
"Guardami ragazza, you're doing good. Just breathe. The plant gives un anestetico. Breathe."
The stretch stung less the farther the knot traveled inside you. When you were certain it couldn't go any deeper, blunt pressure was applied to your cervix.
Thoughts of fleeing crossed your mind but we're quickly banished by the redoubled efforts of the stamens on your nipples and clit. The vine inside you bent, applying more pressure to where you desperately needed it.
"I'm going to cum," you gasped, almost as if asking the Satanic Pope for permission.
"Vieni. It will help with the placement."
Your walls clenched hard around the vine for what seemed like forever. The teasing had gone on for so long that it would be impossible to know when the pulsating would stop. Joy flooded your bloodstream as the seed pod was pushed into your womb with barely any effort. The pod was a little heavy and felt like a bag of marbles.
You took deep breaths, trying to ground yourself from the intense sensations. The experience had been a lot and you weren't sure how much more you could take.
"Libera la ragazza dai suoi strumenti di contenzione," Primo incanted. Refined hands swirled and dark ribbons of mist took form around the plant.
Slowly, the plant retracted, untangling its tendrils and vines from your body. You rubbed at the indents on your wrist, going to pick up the remnants of your habit.
"We're not done, dove," Primo said.
You turned to see him holding the bouquet of yellow roses for Aether.
"These are from my personal collection aren't they?"
Toying with your shredded habit, you avoid his gaze. It would be best to keep your mouth shut to avoid further incrimination.
"Thou shalt not steal is a commandment made to be broken, child. However, there are... penalties for stealing from my collection."
Were you to be flogged before all your siblings and the ghouls? Perhaps you would be sentenced to weeks of back-breaking garden labor. Both thoughts turned your blood cold.
"It just so happens that I was looking to breed this plant," he said, gesturing to the now docile tendrils. "However, I was in need of a host for it."
Your hand rubbed above your pubic bone, cradling where the seed pod now lay.
"So, I am free to go?"
"No. There is a second step to the reproduction process of Tillandsia Bulbosa. After it has embedded its pod, the pod will secrete mimic hormones until the animal completes the insemination process with another of its species."
Watching him explain it you wanted nothing more than for him to wrap his bony hands around your throat and use you like a needy whore. Clearly, the mimic hormones were fast-acting.
"What does that mean, Papa?" His linen robes felt rough against the palm of your hand. It crossed your mind that perhaps he wasn't wearing anything underneath.
"It means that in order to get my seeds in three months, someone needs to inseminate you today."
"You could fuck me, Papa." Lust dripped from your voice as you sank to your knees. You dragged your nails down his thighs, looking up at the man in skull paint to bat your eyes. "Pretty please?"
"Is that what you wish, Suora?"
"More than anything in the world." You nuzzled a cheek against his groin, relishing in the scratch of the fabric.
"Then you shall have it."
Lifting the hem of his robes, you took his semi-hard cock into your mouth. He was big, and you struggled to fit him in your mouth, trying your best to salivate and coat the rest of him with your one hand. The other hand raked nails into his thigh. He staggered back at the contact causing you to curl your tongue in amusement.
He groaned gently, removing his robes so he could better guide your head on his cock. His face was folded in pleasure, cryptic long dead words tumbling from the agape mouth. Hands threaded through your hair as he assisted you in your task.
"Smetti or I will have spent myself down your pretty throat before our task is finished."
Sliding him out of your mouth, you swirled your tongue one last time on the rosy head. His salty precum was so delectable that it upset you that you couldn't swallow the rest of it.
"Don't pout, la mia colomba," he said. "You can still have Papa."
Gravel sticking to your knees, you rose, stroking him eagerly. You wanted to feel him in your veins and filling you more than you already had been.
Gripping your shoulders, Primo turned you away from him. A hand glided down your spine as you felt him compelling you to bend forward. The wood of the planter bed was roughly hewn, and you prayed to Satan that it wouldn't leave splinters in your palms.
Worn hands secured themselves on either side of your hips. You wriggled your ass, testing the strength of the grip and excited at how exposed you were.
Crack.
Stinging sung in the flesh of your bottom. It felt good and you wanted more.
"Be still."
"But I want you to fuck me. I need you to fill me. I feel so empty."
Slowly he sank into you, obliging your wish. "Cara, there is a reason for going slow, but if you want it now I will not deny you."
He was bigger than the vine, but not as big as the seed pod had been. Tilting your hips forward, he bottomed out effortlessly. The head of his cock was nestled behind your cervix, and you felt the seeds inside shifting.
You involuntarily moaned as the marble-like seeds knocked against each other, sending deliciously light vibrations throughout your womb.
"The seed pod of the Tillandsia Bulbosa is not a solid structure." He began rocking himself into you at a slow but steady rhythm, jostling the seeds with each thrust. "This can lead to overstimulation in its host if not careful."
Your nails dug into the wood as you tried to keep your legs up. The seeds swirled and stirred, pushed by Primo's movements. Their vibrations intensified as he picked up the pace.
Screaming, you sank to your knees, taking Primo with you to the ground. Your walls were spasming in irregular spurts with the occasional womb contraction.
"You can take it, my little dove," he groaned. "You will take it for the price you must pay."
Fat wet tears rolled from your cheeks to the gravel. "P-please Papa! Use me! I want your cum inside of me! Please breed me! I- I don't know how much more I can take!"
"We're almost done. Be a good girl for your Papa."
Hips stuttered, moving faster, and your vision became spotty every time he railed into you. You pressed your cheek into the cool gravel, grabbing handfuls of the tiny rocks. This had to be Hell, but you didn't want it to stop.
A few more jolts had Primo roaring, digging his talon-like nails painfully into your hips. You were barely cognizant of anything other than the warmth flooding you slowly.
"Once the insemination process has been completed, the pod interacts with the sperm to create a psychotropic sedative effect. You'll probably want to sleep very shortly. Let's get you to my office."
Pulling out, he redonned his robes and scooped up your torpid form almost effortlessly. Primo was stronger than he appeared, so you didn't feel too guilty lolling your head back to rest on his shoulders.
"Feel so good," you slurred. The slick that coated your inner thighs didn't bother you. It almost felt like a trophy, one that you'd earned through hard work.
"Shhh," he hushed.
The boundaries of sleep and waking had robbed you of the memory of getting to his office. All you knew was that he was laying you down on a cot that was meant for a garden ghoul.
"Sleep, amore," he said, tucking a lightweight blanket over you. "I will go find you new clothes and some nourishment. Rest until then."
The last thing you remembered was the gentle kiss planted to your temple before he left.
Translations:
Sì cara - Yes dear
suora - Sister
Guardami ragazza - Look at me girl
un anestetico - an anesthetic
Vieni - cum
Libera la ragazza dai suoi strumenti di contenzione - Free the girl from her restraints
Smetti - Stop
la mia colomba - my dove
amore - love
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skinnyazn · 1 year
Text
The Masks We Wear
Ch.2 Takes place after In the Bleak Midwinter Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader (Jaguar) Chapters: 2/? Notes: Mission accomplished for Jag, night night Mezzasalma, but who is the man in the green and black?, and who's followed her back to her apt?????? STAY TUNED NEXT CHAPTER TO FIND OUT
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Part One | Part Three | Part Four | AO3 | MASTERLIST
Security to the ball was surprising lax, with only a gentle pat-down and scan of the personalized invitation card under a special light. It revealed a hidden winged lion, along with four initials in each of the card’s corners. A thickset guard waved you forward.
Inside the Palazzo Ducale was absolutely sumptuous. The main ballroom was adorned with gilded moldings and vibrant Renaissance paintings. Live music filtered over the clamor of mingling guests, and dancers in exotic costumes performed throughout the space; it truly felt like you were transported back six hundred years. You waded through the endless sea of lavish attire and decadence, in search of your man with the golden mask.
“Prosecco, Signorina?” a waiter proffered a tray, angling between patrons.
Giving a sly smile, you reached for a delicate glass. “Grazie.”
You made a round of the ballroom, scanning the masks inconspicuously as you sipped your prosecco. It was light and dry and tasted of pears. Delicious. You picked up bits and pieces of conversations as you surveyed. The invite list didn’t disappoint—these people truly lived in a different stratosphere than the rest of humanity. But sifting through all the masks and delusion was difficult; there was just so much.
“Eyes on Ludovico.”
A gruff, accented whisper, but it stopped you mid-step. You nonchalantly turned. Green and black velvet. Your heartbeat quickened in your chest. Glancing to where the he was looking, you saw your target in the center of a group of guests. His mask glinted in the low light of the chandeliers as he spoke.
Shit.
Quickly, you sat your glass on a passing waiter’s tray and started toward Ludovico, ignoring the man to your right. Your silk pant legs swished as you sauntered up to the group.
“Signore Mezzasalma,” you interrupted.
Ludovico paused mid-sentence, eyes taking in the length of you, cocking his head in contemplation. The heat of the guests’ stares warmed you.
“Che cosa deliziosa, signorina…?”
“Phan. Nikoletta Phan.” Never breaking your alluring gaze, you extended a gloved hand. He gripped it firmly before bringing it slowly it to where his lips were under his bauta mask. Mezzasalma turned to his party.
“Mi scusa, signore e signori.” They all bowed as he proffered his arm; you wrapped yours delicately around his.
“I am delighted that you could make it, signorina Phan. I have heard much about you,” he spoke as you began walking. His accent was thick. “Though it was surprising that I’ve never invited such an exquisite creature as yourself to my ball before.” He leaned toward you. “An excellent choice for a mask, might I add.”
He wasn’t a very tall man, only taller than you by a few inches, but his aura was dominating.
“Grazie,” you angled your head slightly, subtly exposing the length of your neck. You felt his gaze heavy on you. “All good things, I hope?”
The Italian chuckled. “Not at all. In fact, I hear we share a similar style.” 
You stopped and smiled coyly at him. “Efficient?”
His look was wolfish. “By any means necessary.”
You let your smoldering stare linger, pretending it was someone else behind that mask. He had the wrong eye color though.
“I was hoping we could speak somewhere more… private. There are some things I wish to discuss, as I’m sure you know.” You sucked in a breath, heaving your breasts against the binding of the corset.
His gaze dripped down the length of your neck. “It would be my pleasure.”
Un cane.
Mezzasalma led you out of the main ballroom down a long corridor. A few guests lingered here, chatting in private. They bowed when Ludovico passed by—his anonymity clearly unpreserved in spite of his mask. You walked with him further into the east wing. The next room was more demure, but still filled with beauty. You stared at the masterpieces on the ceiling.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Exceptionally,” you smiled. It was genuine.
“I am a man of high tastes,” he gandered at you.
“So I’ve heard.” Despite the mask covering his entire face, his stare still felt predatory.
“This way, signorina.” He pushed against the wall’s wooden paneling. A secret door. You climbed the dim staircase with him. “It's a, come si dice… shortcut? Scarpagnino added many of these passages in the fifteen-hundreds. Be a good girl and don’t tell, won’t you?”
You mimed locking your lips. He gave a low chuckle.
The passageway exited on the second floor, into another long room with two guards at the end. Crystal chandeliers hung the length of the space. Your footsteps echoed across the marble floor.
“Salve, signore Mezzasalma.” The men eyed you.
“Riposo, signori. È la mia ospite.”
“Signore.” They opened the double door.
“This way, please,” Ludovico gestured.
“Grazie.” You stepped inside.
It was a lavishly decorated chamber, illuminated by candelabras. Moonlight filtered through the windows overlooking the canal. Mezzasalma stepped to his desk and poured two glasses of red from an ornate decanter. He untied his mask and set it delicately on the table. In person, you could make out the lines that carved his handsome, bronzed skin.
“To new acquaintances,” he handed you a glass.
“Saluti,” you raised it. He watched your lips as you swallowed.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I do have a business partner coming shortly.”
The buyer. Shit. You needed to get that hard-drive, fast. Back toward him, you walked over to the window and slipped a vial out from one of your pockets.
“Not at all,” you said looking at the canal. Its calm waters danced under the moonlight. You emptied the vial discreetly into your wine. “But I may need more than one glass of wine.”
An invitation. 
His wolfish look was back as he made his way toward you. “You are full of surprises, signorina Phan.”
You felt his cold hands smooth down your shoulders as he kissed your neck softly. Fuck fuck fuck. He reached for the tie on your mask, but you turned around to stop him.
“Aspetta,” you lowered his hand to your hip. “I don’t want to ruin the illusion of the evening.” His smile spread. He squeezed. Hard. Now or never.
Swirling the glass of wine, you took a gulp and held it in your mouth. You pressed your scarlet lips to his and exchanged the liquid. He let out a surprised hum, but swallowed, licking your lips as you pulled away. Ludovico went in for another kiss, but you leaned back and took another gulp of wine, repeating the exchange while threading your fingers through his thick hair. Hasty hands were now fumbling at your pants. You finished the contents of wine in his mouth just as he started to lower the crimson silks. But you slipped away coyly, backing toward his bed. A siren in the flesh.
“Madonna mia, you are Temptation.” He slowly stalked toward you. “How is it that we have not met sooner?”
Sitting on his luxurious sheets, your heart hammered in your chest—a tense smile strung across your face. Ludovico made it a few more steps before feet stuttered. He cleared his throat. You watched as he struggled; heavy lidded eyes striving to focus under his thick, furrowed brows.
“I… something…” he cleared his throat again. You leapt from the bed as he began to crumple, lowering him soundlessly to the floor. 
“What? What is it, Ludovico?” A weak hand went to your mask. His beady, green eyes pulsated. No longer a wolf—just a scared rat now. “Ludovico?” His eyelids finally closed and his hand dropped heavily to the floor.
You counted your pounding heartbeats in your head. 
“Ludovico?” you whispered, shaking him slightly. He was still.
You released a sharp exhale to the breath you had been holding and shook your head. Some of the sedative was in your system too. It felt like you were trudging through mud—its heaviness sucking you further down. Focus.
Hurried hands patted up and down his velvet outfit. Where was it? You unbuttoned his jacket. Inside the satin lining were three small pockets. One bulged slightly. You reached for the hard-drive.
Safely securing the small piece of metal, you checked your watch from underneath your crimson sleeve. 11:05. You procured an alcohol wipe from another of your pockets and wiped down his lips and the wine glass. Fuck knows if it got rid of all your DNA, but you didn’t have much time. Mezzasalma would be out for a while but his buyer was likely already on his way. Stumbling as you rose, you looked for an alternate exit. You took a deep inhale, followed by another quick in-breath, and released it slowly. It cleared up your head slightly as you repeated the technique.
Mentally tracing back over the floorpan, you placed yourself in the Doge’s apartments. There should be private stairs leading to the courtyard below from one of these rooms. You scanned the space. On the corner along the canal windows hung a large tapestry. Gently lifting the side revealed the hidden passageway. Bingo.
It was fucking dark, but you edged your way down. The door at the end of the stairs was old and heavy. You slowly creaked it open, thankful for the noise of the party and the crowd outside the building. Peaking your head out, you spotted two hired muscles at the far end of the empty room; their backs were toward you as they chatted. It took some effort but you managed to silently slip through the ancient door, slinking to the opposite end of the room. You hoped your luck continued.
Timing needed to be perfect; opening this set of doors would let in the ruckus of the square. Deep breath in.
“Ehi! Ferma!”
But you were already out the door, pushing into the crowd outside.
The brisk air was a respite as it hit your chest. You quickly navigated the throng, trying your best to go with the flow and look inconspicuous. It was easier than expected in your state. The stream of people took you further away from the palazzo.
Dipping away from the crowd, you headed deeper into San Marco. Your shadow stretch ahead of you on the cobblestone under the waxing moon. Women laughed together as you hurried by, movement still slurred by the sedative. You caught your breath the Ponte dei Bareteri, pausing to check your surroundings. The apartment was close, but you needed to make sure you weren’t followed. Despite the amount of people still out, you felt a familiar prickle on the back of you neck. An irrefutable warning sign. Not good. You continued.
Cutting through an alleyway, you glanced over your six. You still couldn’t see them, but their presence was undeniable. Like you were some animal in a maze being studied. The cool air brushed over your involuntary perspiration. You shivered.
You weaved your way through the quiet back streets, trying to lose this phantom. If your head was still groggy from what little of the tranquilizer you consumed, poor Mezzasalma was going to be in a world of hurt when he woke. You pushed through the haze until you found the door to your apartment building, fumbling with the keys. The stairway was dark but you took them two at a time anyway. Just need to get to my bag.
Not bothering with the lock, you slammed your shoulder against the door to your room and it cracked open. You scrambled for your duffle under the bed, reaching for your tactical knife strapped to the outside. You slung the bag over your shoulders and pressed your back against the wall next to the door. The telltale sound of a lock being picked downstairs gave away the intruder. The door quietly creaked open. All you could hear now was the hammering of your heart in your chest. You stilled your breathing. Deep breath out.
_______
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luckyqueenreign · 2 years
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Come Back Home x Jaded
I was in awe and Inspired by @mrsbsmooth JADED writing prompt re: Suresh/MC – that I had to write from the MC perspective. I tried to follow their timeline but did change a few things around. I wasn’t sure if I should change the conversations fully, and decided I should keep them similar but change them a little as this was coming from the MC’s POV. 
This is my first time, so please be kind lol. 
** This also contains the spoilers from Episode 11 ** 
Story Inspo and credit: JADED @mrsbsmooth Suresh / MC 
Come Back Home -   Suresh / MC - MC POV
TODAY
For the past four months, Jade, had been hiding a big secret from Suresh. And tonight, it would all be revealed.
It all started the night of their one-year anniversary…
**4 Months Ago**
Jade walked into her apartment and gasped. All around her were beautiful, elaborate arrangements of all of her favorite flowers that took up every inch of her small flat. Short vases with pink hydrangeas and tall and large ones with different types of exotic flowers. As she walked around the maze that was now her apartment, she found Suresh sitting in the living room taking in her sheer delight.
“Babe!” she shrieked as she hurried over to him and jumped in his arms. She kissed him passionately, biting down on his lower lip before releasing the kiss.
“Happy Anniversary,” he said smiling.
“How did you do all this?”
“I don’t want to give away my accomplice, but it might be nice if you give a certain lovely downstairs neighbor by the name of Mrs. Atkinson one of these bouquets as a thank you.”
Jade got up to take in all of the beauty around her, she could feel Suresh starring at her and when she looked over all she saw was pure adoration. He got up and hugged Jade from behind, she melted into his arms as he whispered, “We’re not done yet.”
She turned around to face him with an excited look on her face. He grabbed her hand before she could say anything else and led her to the bedroom. There were more flowers in this room, but on her bed sat two beautifully wrapped boxes. One much smaller and thinner than the other. Suresh grabbed the bigger box first and handed to Jade.
She brushed her finger across the lush white and gold wrapping paper, the satin bow gleamed. Even the tape felt expensive. “It’s almost too pretty to open,” she said.
“I’m sure you’ll like what’s inside way more than the wrapping paper,” he laughed.  
She smiled at him as she started to unwrap the first box, she noticed a familiar name at the top. Her favorite boutique! She slid the first half of the box up and it revealed a gorgeous, sequined black mini dress.
“Oh my god, babe. It’s stunning. I absolutely love it,” she said as she pressed the dress against her body and looked at herself in the mirror.
“I would love for you to wear it tonight, that is if you don’t have another outfit, you like more.”
She rushed over to him, “Of course I’ll wear it! I love it so much.”
“Good, and here’s another one,” he slid a skinny envelope looking box over to her. It was wrapped in the same paper as the first package, as she started to unwrap it, she noticed it was a non-descript box. She opened It just as delicately as the first, there were what seemed to be plane tickets in the box as she took them out, she realized he purchased two tickets for them to go on holiday in Turkey in two weeks.
Before she could even say anything, he said “Don’t worry, I already spoke to your boss, and he approved your time off. We leave in two weeks.”
She ran towards him and kissed him fervently. “How are you this perfect? I love you so much.”
“Well get ready, because the surprises aren’t over yet,” he said as he walked back to the living room. He had a few more tricks up his sleeve before the night was over.
Over the years, Suresh dated his fair share of women, but he could never truly commit to them. After a few weeks of courting, he became bored with them and would ghost them. Jade was different. From the very first day they met he knew she was someone special. She was fiery and put him in his place. She was kind and funny. She constantly put others before herself and she was loyal to the core. And it didn’t hurt that she was drop dead gorgeous. Tonight, Suresh was taking Jade to the restaurant they went to on their very first date. He had one more surprise in store for her that was tucked away in a small box in his pocket.
As they arrived at the restaurant holding hands, Suresh got a call from his office. They knew this was an important night for him, but he was also on the fast track to partner. Jade saw the name pop up on the screen, “If you need to get it, I can wait babe. I’ll go inside and grab my first glass of bubbly.” He loved that she was so willing to compromise with him and because of that he declined the call and ushered her into the restaurant.
They hadn’t been back to this restaurant since their first date, after a few glasses of bubbly, Jade and Suresh were having a hard time keeping their hands off each other. Much to the chagrin of their waiter and nearby patrons. As their hostess lead them to the same table they sat at on their first date one year ago, Jade turned to Suresh and whispered “I hope they have stronger glassware this year. It’s been a year but I’m still having a hard time keeping myself together when you look this good,” she said as she bit her lip. He winked at her and nodded to the table.
And that’s when she noticed them – two plastic champagne flutes. She turned around to see he was grinning widely at her.
“I thought these might be a better option, so we don’t risk almost getting kicked out again,” he said smiling.
“I don’t think I can possibly love you more than I do right now,” Jade said as she leaned in to kiss Suresh. As they parted from the kiss, she noticed there was a small box under Suresh’s hand. “What’s that?” she asked with a mischievous glint in her eye. Suresh looks at her with an intensely sincere and passionate look, “Jade I’m utterly and completely in love with you. This past year with you has been incredible and I want to take our relationship to the next level.” He pauses and slides the small gold leaf box over to her. Jade stares at the box before making any motion to open it, in her mind she screams to herself OMG!!!! IS HE PROPOSING?!?!?! But when she takes the box in her hand, she realizes it’s flatter than a normal ring box. She starts to open it and she sees a brand-new shiny set of keys. As she looks back to him with a smile he asks, “Will you move in with me?”
“Yes! Of course!” she exclaims as she sidles over to him to give him another kiss. And this was the exact moment when the scheming and the lies began.
After returning home and properly celebrating their anniversary in the bedroom, Jade lied awake while Suresh slept peacefully beside her.
Moving in together.
She’d never lived with a guy before this and realized that the next step would be marriage. They never discussed marriage before, but she couldn’t imagine that it wouldn’t be in the cards for them. She believed Suresh loved and cared for her deeply, it was the healthiest relationship she had ever been in, and she wasn’t sure how she got so lucky. As she laid in bed listening to the rhythmic sounds of his breathing, she thought about the moment he gave her the keys to his apartment. Deep down she believed he was proposing, thinking it over now she knows she would’ve said yes to him, had he asked.
As he stirred in bed moving closer to her, she realized there was no reason why she couldn’t ask Suresh to marry her. It wasn’t traditional, but neither were they. She knew she’d have to lie and sneak around for a few weeks until she figured out what kind of ring, she wanted to get him. She knew that a lot of jewelry companies were moving to online, and it might be easier and more discrete if she would be able to receive samples of the ring in the mail.
I’ll keep my post at my old apartment after I move and have Mrs. Atkinson hold my mail for me! She absolutely adores Resh, and I know she will be so happy for us.
TODAY
Jade checked the time on her phone again, where was Mrs. Atkinson? She called last night and earlier in the day to confirm she’d be home at 5. It was now 5:15 and Mrs. Atkinson was nowhere to be found. As she tried to call her for a third time, Jade noticed her elderly neighbor’s car pulling into Jade’s old street. For the past four months, Mrs. Atkinson had been Jade’s one and only accomplice in Operation: Propose to Suresh.
“Darling, I’m so sorry. The lines at the market were out the door today!” Mrs. Atkinson said as she shifted a brown bag of groceries in her arm from the back seat.
Jade rushed down to help her, “Please, let me help you, I can carry the bags.”
“Oh, thank you dear,” she said as she swung her large brown purse over her arm and shuffled up the drive. She fiddled with her keys as she excitedly said, “the package arrived this morning!”
“Thank goodness! I’m planning on doing it tonight,” Jade beamed as she simultaneously called an uber on her cell. 4 minutes away. As she entered Mrs. Atkinson’s flat, she realized her whole life was about to change tonight. Her elderly neighbor shuffled to the kitchen where she returned with a box, and some of Jade’s mail.
“Here you go dear!” She said as she handed Jade the package. “You know in my day I would never have been as bold as to ask my Henry to marry me. But I’m so happy that the times have changed and that you are going to be able to show that lovely man how much you love him. Please send him my love, I always loved when he would come around and help me around the house.”
“Thank you so much Mrs. A, we will be back round soon enough.” Jade said as she heard two car horns outside, a sign her uber was outside. “I’m sorry I can’t chat longer today, I’m running behind. Bye Mrs. A!
She ran down her old drive and got in the uber and checked how long it would take her to get home. Normally this drive would be 15-20 minutes but an accident on the main road had caused a massive delay and it would now take her 35 minutes to get home. She was going to be late. As if on cue, Suresh texted her.
S: babe are you close? We need to leave here in 20 minutes.
J: got held up but im on my way…there’s a massive accident
S: jade….
S: you know how impt tonight is for me
“You know how important tonight is for me” …if only he knew how important it actually was, she thought. He’s going to be my fiancé tonight!
As she opened the door to their penthouse apartment, she could see Suresh sitting at their kitchen island, ready to go.
“Sorry, sorry, I know, I know. I got held up and there was so much traffic,” she said as she rushed to their bedroom, in their massive master closet she pulled her favorite clutch bag and snuck the ring box in the inside pocket. She slipped on the new dress she bought for this exact occasion and rushed to the bathroom to do her makeup and touch up her hair.
Her plan for tonight was simple, but she knew he would love every second of it. After he got his much-deserved promotion, Jade would let him revel in his accomplishments with his co-workers and suggest that the two of them go celebrate. She made reservations at the same place he took her on her first date and their one-year anniversary. She had already called ahead, and the staff knew to reserve their booth and bring them dessert first with the ring in the middle and “will you marry me” written on the outside of the plate.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Suresh looked at her incredulously and gave her the sweet half smile that she loved so much. He opened his arms, and she ran into them. All of the nervousness of the day washed away as he held her.
Once they got in their car headed to his event, they started to make small talk about their day.
Be normal.
Talk about everyday things.
Don’t think about the ring burning a hole in your purse.
Jade was a terrible liar and she felt it was always best to keep her lies as close to the truth as possible. So, when Suresh asked her about her day, she inadvertently mentioned the one thing she knew would make him kick off.
“I had to run some errands and I had to go pick up a package all the way over…” before she could finish, she stopped herself and noticed that his body stiffened and shifted over a few centimeters.
She could see his jaw clench as he asked her “What was in the package?” This had been a major point of contention for Suresh, he didn’t understand why Jade still hadn’t changed her mailing address from her old place and why she continued to collect her mail from Mrs. Atkinson.
“Oh, um just a few things…” she didn’t want to dwell on this further and cause a fight in the back of the car.
“Jade…. you promised,” he said as he shifted his body closer to the window and looked outside at the foreboding dark clouds above.
“I know, Resh, I will. I promise.” As she said this, the sky began to open up and pour all around them.
“You said that the last time,” he whispered under the roar of the rain around them. The rain, to him, was synonymous with how he was feeling right now. Hurt and angry.
Why did I have to mention the stupid package, I could’ve just said I got held up at work, or traffic, anything else. I wish I could just tell him the truth about why I haven’t changed my address. He’s probably assuming the worst right now. At least tonight he’ll know I had a very good reason to not change my address.
Jade sidled closer to him and held his hand. He squeezed her hand and gave her a light kiss on her thumb, as if to say let’s not fight.
Less than two minutes later, the car came to a stop at a beautiful modern building where the event was taking place. He exited the car in one fluid motion and ran to her side to open her door and cover her from the rain. He held her tight against him as they walked quickly inside.
Once inside, they walked over to the bar, and he ordered two glasses of champagne. Jade couldn’t help but stare at him from afar in pure adoration. Everything about the way he moved felt like a beautiful song.
As they moved about the event, Jade was charming the senior partners and his fellow co-workers. They found her to be charismatic, amusing, and witty. She knew the night could not be going any better.
“So how long have you two been together?” one of the partners’ wives asked, her face warm and inviting.
“Just over a year,” Suresh said smiling down at Jade, who met his eyes as if he were her entire universe.
“Ohhhh,” she squealed. “So, it must be getting near time to….hmmm?” she asked, as she motioned her own ring finger to him, with a chuckle.
“Who knows?” Suresh chuckled. They hadn’t talked about it, so he just shot her a smile and a coy wink, silently apologizing for putting her on the spot. “Maybe?”
Jade’s eyes widened like she’d been stuck with a branding iron.
“What?” She laughed, loudly. “Don’t you even think about it!"
How could this women know anything about what was to happen tonight, it’s just a coincidence, Jade thought to herself. Did I come across too awkward? Did I sound like I hated the thought of marriage? At least I’m doing this tonight.
She felt a small buzz from her purse, her phone lit up with a message that read. “Update?” it was from the waiter, at this point it was about 1 hour to the time she told him they’d head over.
J: Not yet. They haven’t announced the promotion yet.
As she finished hitting send, Suresh’s boss Charlie started to clink his glass as he held a microphone with the other hand.
This is it.
She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. The moment he had been waiting for, for the past 6 months.
Charlie launched into a long speech about hard work, loyalty and their massive success stories this year. She knew Suresh had been integral in bringing in three huge accounts this year that had easily pushed him into junior partner territory.
She could sense Suresh’s nervousness as Charlie continued his speech, “So we’re here tonight to announce and welcome our newest junior partner, and the youngest to ever be offered the role….Marisol Io Truglio.”
She could feel her heart beating through her chest, through her ears and she realized she was holding her breath. She looked at Suresh but realized he had let go of her hand and was now applauding Marisol loudly. She knew he was compensating for his own disappointment.
Jade was frozen, as she watched Charlie pull Suresh aside to explain the decision.
This isn’t ideal, but maybe I should still propose tonight. He will have something really special to look forward to, even if he didn’t get what he originally wanted tonight.
She was lost in thought when she noticed Suresh bounding past her towards the bar. He was clearly fuming about the promotion, so she let him have a minute to himself. She walked over to Marisol and congratulated her on her promotion, and they chatted for a bit. In the corner of Jade’s eye, she could see Suresh downing a double scotch and ordering another one. He immediately drank that one too and ordered another.
As she was about to walk over to stop him, she got a text from the waiter, who she just had saved as W.
W: update?
J: we may need to postpone…Think it may need to be another day.
W: im so sorry I know you had ur heart set on today
J: its ok. Thank you so much for your help.
In the few minutes she spent texting she could see that he had now ordered another drink and was downing that one too. Jade picked up her pace as she walked towards him. She noticed that most people had headed over to the stage area where soon they would be shown a few presentations for their year ahead.
“Babe, it’s time to go” she said.
“I’m staying out for a while” he said.
“Resh, you don’t want to do this here. I know how badly you wanted this, but you can’t beat yourself up over this. They probably went with Marisol because she’s ….”
“Committed,” he growled.
“I was going to say extremely boring, but sure, why not?” she smiled trying to make light of the situation.
Suresh slammed his scotch back down on the bar, louder than he expected. This made Jade jump and the few people that were still in their vicinity look over to see what the commotion was.
“Is that what you think? That being committed to something is boring?” he snarled.
Jade looked at him confused, and she could sense the conversation wasn’t about Marisol and the promotion anymore. “That’s not what I said Suresh. Can we please go? We’re surrounded by your co-workers and although you may not care right now you will care tomorrow.”
“As if you fucking care about me Jade,” he snaps.
Jade looks deeply hurt and offended by this accusation.
“Go on Jade! Act shocked. Act like it’s a fucking surprise to you. Act like you don’t know how much if fucking destroys me. I swear, it’s like you enjoy watching me suffer.” He snarls.
“Excuse me?” She asks, absolutely incredulous.
“You’re so desperate to cling on to that one link to your single life. Anything to remind yourself that you’ve still got an out. Just fucking admit it. That’s why you won’t change your fucking address and why you shot down marrying me in front of half the fucking partners.”
“You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, Suresh.” She picks up her bag, still holding the ring inside, turns around and walks out the door. Jade holds back tears as he screams behind her “Bye Jade. See you at the apartment you apparently don’t live in.”
Jade is burning red hot with anger and embarrassment. Their town car is still waiting out front, and she asks the driver to please take her home.
“Are you alright miss?” a low sweet voice comes from the driver.
Tears have started to flood out of Jade like the storm that continues to rage on, even angrier than before they arrived at the event tonight.
“I’m ok. I’m ok” she says as she takes a deep breath and looks out the window.
When they arrive at the apartment, she thanks him, and her doorman George is rushing to get the door for her with an umbrella in hand. The driver looks at the rear-view mirror and says to her, “don’t let any man make you cry. Even a handsome geezer like Suresh.” She laughs and thanks him once more.
Jade walks into their apartment defeated. She is exhausted from the turn of events tonight. She heads to her closet to undress and as she opens her purse the ring box stares back at her. She takes it and shoves it in her bed side table for now. She takes a hot shower and puts on one of Suresh’s oversized university t-shirts as she locks the door to their bedroom.
After his antics tonight, he can sleep on the couch or in the guest room, but he won’t be sleeping with me until he apologizes.
She settles into bed around 11 but goes into a fitful sleep. She tosses and turns half awake and half dreaming about Suresh telling her she doesn’t care. She’s awoken by a phone call; she sees the name on the screen. Babe <3, it’s Suresh but she notices It’s after 2AM… where is he?  
“Hello?” she croaks. Her voice sore from crying and lack of sleep.
All she could hear at first on the other line were whimpers and someone crying. This woke Jade up and she sat up in bed.
“Hello, who is this?” she asked again
A woman’s voice answers back “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were together,” she cries as she continues. “Please what’s your email address??”
Without thinking Jade tells her, her email address but asks her, “Please who are you and why do you have Suresh’s phone? Is he ok?”
“I’m sending you an email, and this will explain everything.” The mystery woman continues to cry but is able to get out, “Suresh is a bad guy” before the call ends.
The soft tone of a dropped call plays.
Jade tries calling again, and again. But the phone seems to have either died or been turned off.
Jade rushes to the office and checks her email. She stares into the void of her emails and clicks refresh again and again. It takes another minute because the file is so large, but in her inbox is an email from McGee’s pub with the subject line, “I’m sorry I didn’t know he was married” with an attached video.
Jade instantly feels uneasy, her chest is pounding, her head is throbbing, and her hand trembles as she moves to click play. On her screen she makes out a tiny, cluttered, dark office space. It looks exactly like what a pub office would look like. Papers strewn about on a wooden desk haphazardly, stacks of beer bottles in a corner, a small folding chair and an out-of-date computer. She notices there’s a timestamp on the right-hand corner of the video with today’s date, 12:55AM. And then she sees him stumble into the office with a waitress. His hand is bleeding, he’s clearly hurt himself and she’s helping him. There’s no audio but she laughs at something he says. He can barely stand up and he falls into the waitress, she turns around and kisses him. He pulls away from the kiss but pulls a condom out of his wallet. She helps him put it on and he bends the waitress over the desk, he starts to fuck the waitress with zero hesitation. She snaps the laptop shut, ��she’s seen enough for today.
Jade can’t believe her eyes; she lets the tears come and she cries a guttural cry. She quickly reaches for the waste basket underneath the desk and throws up into it.  She doesn’t understand how or why he would do this.
He went on and on about commitment, but he was cheating on me? I need to get my shit and get the fuck out of here.
Through heavy sobs, Jade begins to pack up all her things. At around 7AM she called her brother David, her voice hoarse from crying. He asked her what was wrong, but she couldn’t get it out without crying.
“Do you want me to come over?” David asked. “what’s he done? Are you ok?”
“Come over please…. We’re done” Jade croaked.  
David rushed over and was there within 10 minutes, he hugged her tight.
“Where is he?” David asked
“Probably with the girl he’s been cheating on me with.” With that Jade started to bawl all over again. It took David an hour to get her to stop hysterically crying and to attempt to load up their cars with her things to get her out of here before he returned. When Jade came back for the last of her things, she saw a picture of Suresh and her in Turkey. They were both smiling back at her so happily. In her anger she ran to the kitchen and pulled out garbage bags. She threw one at her brother.
“All the pictures of us in the trash.”
“Jade are you sure?” he asked nervously.
“If I’m in it, toss it. I don’t want him having any of these memories of me.”
She headed into their bedroom where they had a nice gallery wall of pictures from their year together. The two of them at Christmas last year with his family. A selfie of the two of them giggling on the hot air balloon. A picture of them at his birthday last year. One of him kissing her under the Eiffel Tower. One of them in Italy. In a fury, she ripped all the frames off the wall and tossed them in the bag. The glass breaking inside as she tossed the frames in without abandon. It was almost 11 when she finally threw the last bag of broken glass and broken dreams down the garbage shoot.
She walked back into the apartment one last time, went into the office and got his laptop. She then started a new email. No subject, no text. Just a video attachment and sent it to Suresh. She left the laptop where she knew he would see it, and with his emails opened.
“Are you ok to drive,” her brother looked at her with concern.
“Yes, let’s go” she said as she put on her biggest, darkest sunglasses and tried to not let brother see her cry.  
As she got in her car, she grabbed her phone and blocked Suresh on everything. She deleted all their pics on IG and went private. He wouldn’t be able to call her, email her, dm her, nothing. There was no need for an explanation for what he had done.
The next three months seemed to pass by in blur for Jade. She couldn’t taste food anymore, jokes weren’t funny, music sounded dull and altogether impossible to listen to without taking her into a black hole of grief, it seemed like life itself had lost color and vibrancy.
Her friends pestered her to hang out, but she couldn’t force herself out of the house. It was bad enough that he haunted her dreams nightly, some nights with apologies, other nights the video just replayed in her mind on a loop. Everywhere she went was a reminder of him and she saw his ghost everywhere. The first time she went to the coffee shop by her brother’s flat, she almost choked on her scone as someone who resembled him walked in. She didn’t want to be reminded of him. She didn’t want a chance of seeing him out with someone else.
She’d heard from some friends that he had reached out imploring them to connect them or arrange a meeting for him to explain. Jade vehemently refused every ask and told them to stop asking. She couldn’t imagine a day where she would be able to see him and it wouldn’t shatter her in two.
The pain of it all seemed insurmountable for months. And then on an ordinary day, about four months after their breakup, she laughed again. This wasn’t the fake laugh she had taught herself to do, but a real laugh. She realized that the ghosts were also haunting her dreams less frequently. She knew she wasn’t over what happened to her, but she was definitely at a better place, and life started to feel good again.
8 Months After the Breakup
Jade was leaving the gym one afternoon when she saw she had 15 missed calls from her best friend Gemma in the hour she had been at the gym.
Gemma answered in one ring “Jade, OMG WHERE ARE YOU? You’re going to kill me. Please, please, please don’t kill me. Omg I never thought this would actually happen. We did it for a laugh. Me and Fran. We thought it might be good for you if you were picked….” She continued to ramble off a bit.
“GEMMA! Stop, calm down!” she said. “Please tell me what’s going on”
“Can you just come over and I’ll explain everything? Fran is on her way too,” Gemma said.
“Ok, I just need to shower first, and I’ll head over.”
“JADE, there is no time for showers. Come here now please.” Gemma shrieks.
Jade calmly says, “Ok, I’m on my way.”
As Jade pulls up to Gemma’s drive, her and Fran are already opening the door and bounding outside to greet Jade.
“Ok, what is going on? You guys are scaring me now.” Jade says.
“We first need you to promise that you won’t be mad at us,” Fran says.
“Yes, I promise. Now out with it,” Jade says.
Gemma starts to explain, “I hate to bring up that sad sack excuse for a man but after Suresh you were really down, and we felt terrible that we couldn’t do anything for you. We mentioned it to Fran’s boyfriend, and he jokingly said, ‘let’s get her in next season of love island’ and we were like actually that’s a great idea, what do we need to do?”
“Wait….what?” Jades face is pale, and she looks terrified.
“Jade let me finish! So, Fran and I told him what happened, and he told us he just needed us to fill out an application form and he would bring it to the head casting director. We sent them your pictures and some fun videos of you on night outs and they loved you.”
“What does that mean, they loved me?”
“Babe, they want you on the show,” Fran exclaimed!
“This is your chance to have the summer of your life, meet new guys and maybe even leave with a relationship.” Gemma said. “So, what do you say?”
Jade looked at her two best friends in disbelief as she said “I can’t believe I’m saying this but…I’m in.”
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aurorxaeternitatis · 9 months
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       The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue across the sprawling landscape of Alhazaria. Domínico stood atop the parapets of the Royal Alcazar of Zahran, his keen gaze sweeping over the kingdom he ruled. From this vantage point, he could see the diversity of his realm unfold before him — the rugged coastline stretching out along the Sapphire Sea, the rolling hills adorned with vineyards and olive groves, the majestic mountains towering in the distance, and the vast desert to the south with its shimmering sand dunes. It was a kingdom at the crossroads of two worlds, a place where the beauty of the sea met the allure of exotic landscapes.
       As he looked out, Domínico's mind drifted back through the pages of history, tracing the footsteps of those who had come before him. Alhazaria was not just a kingdom; it was a living tapestry woven with the threads of generations past. The legacy of his ancestors, their triumphs and struggles, was etched into every stone and grain of sand that made up this land. He recalled the stories of King Rashid and Queen Amira, rulers who had guided Alhazaria through turbulent times, and he felt a weight of responsibility that came with his position as the current monarch.
       The city below hummed with activity — the markets bustling, the distant cries of vendors, the murmurs of the people. It was a symphony of order, orchestrated by his meticulous rule. Domínico knew his subjects looked to him and relied on his intellect and stratagem to navigate the complexities of their world. He was a descendant of their gods, after all.
       Yet, as the sun's glow deepened, his thoughts turned to the shifting currents beyond Alhazaria's borders. The impending union of Nunally Ambly des Ayvelles and Leopold von Furchtlos was more than a marriage alliance; it was a doorway, an opportunity—a chance for war and expansion. The tension of religious disparities, the discord of ambitions — Domínico dissected these elements with the precision of a strategist, his mind a whirlwind of calculations.
       The clash of faiths, he pondered. The implications of an alliance forged on differences. He considered potential catalysts — a skirmish on the fringes of Ambly des Ayvelles' domain involving displaced polytheists seeking shelter. It was a thread he could pull, a seam he could unravel. A spark to ignite the flames of a calculated war, a war he desired for his own gain.
       His fingers traced the carvings on the parapet as he imagined various scenarios. The board was set, the pieces poised, and he played with them in his mind. The reasons for war — he could conjure them as easily as he breathed. The consequences, the strategies, the victory — all painted with the strokes of his ambition.
       As the sun sank lower, Domínico's thoughts turned to Ángel, his younger brother. The brother he saw potential in, an uncut gem that could be honed and shaped to serve the kingdom's ambitions. In which way he was yet to decide, but just like with anyone in the kingdom, Domínico would find a purpose for him.
       " Your Grace, " Thoughts were brought to a halt and he was greeted by a familiar face — his loyal friend and confidant, Luciano. Luciano bowed slightly before meeting Dominico's gaze. " You seem preoccupied. "
       " Luciano, " Domínico greeted with a nod, his eyes fixated on the kingdom sprawled below, a land ripe with potential. " You've seen the shifts in the alliances, the brewing tensions at our borders. The marriage between prince Leopold and princess Nunally — it's an opening. "
       Luciano's brow furrowed as he studied Domínico's expression. " An opening for what, Your Grace? "
       Domínico's lips curved into a shrewd smile, a glint of determination in his eyes. " For expansion, my friend. Our realm has stood strong for generations, our history is etched with resilience. But the time has come to seize the moment, to grow beyond our current borders. "
       Luciano's gaze held a mix of understanding and concern. " Are we prepared for the consequences, Your Grace? War, bloodshed — those are not easy paths to tread. "
       Domínico's eyes remained unwavering, his voice resolute. " Every great ruler in history has faced such choices. The world bows to power, my friend. Our military is strong, our alliances won't fail us — I've made sure of that, and our people are loyal. "
       Luciano nodded slowly, his gaze distant as if contemplating the implications. " Even if they're loyal, will they stand with you in war after so many years of peace? I can imagine some being against it, and internal conflict will make us vulnerable — if it comes to it. "
       Domínico's expression softened, his tone carrying a hint of empathy. " Change is never easy, Luciano. But our realm's progress, its advancement—that will be our legacy. We will lay the foundations for a future that resonates through the ages. That is something the people will fight for, and they will if I'm the one doing the talking. "
       Luciano's lips quirked into a thoughtful smile. " You've always had a gift for turning adversity into advantage. "
       Domínico chuckled, a mixture of pride and amusement in his eyes. " It's what makes a ruler. We must adapt, evolve, and master the art of the unexpected. "
       " And what do you propose, Your Grace? " Luciano inquired, his curiosity piqued.
       Domínico's gaze grew intense, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the parapets. " We must explore every avenue, seek out weaknesses in our potential foes, and build a case for our actions. Political moves, diplomatic gambits, calculated alliances—all leading to a unified front. "
       Luciano nodded, a renewed determination gleaming in his eyes. " It shall be done as you wish. I'll send the word to those that need to hear it. You have my unwavering support, as always. "
       Domínico's smile seemed genuine, but even with their bond of trust and shared purpose, Luciano had always been someone Domínico used. " I'd be grievously wounded if I didn't, " he quipped.
       As night descended upon the kingdom, Domínico retreated into the depths of the palace, his mind a tempest of thoughts and plans. The future awaited, a tapestry waiting to be woven — one where faith, alliance, and ambition would converge in ways neither he nor the realm could predict. However, that didn't mean he couldn't control all of it. / @lured-into-wonderland
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zheheimao · 2 years
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Shell of Hyosyn High
She crossed her arms she had always carried with her a certain level of authority. Cheong-San was the best friend of the boy who could pull her away from her darkness with his voice and sometimes restraint. She sighed softly as she looked at him. He looked hopeless. Another thing that the former president understood all to well. It could do this, it could pull you down with talon like claws as dark as shadows an sharp as your own wit. "You can't give into that." she offered simply as she leaned against the shattered remains of the wall of the school. This was their place for now. They had become what they were here.
Her own eye sometimes showed sign of trauma but there were way of fixing it. You had to bury to virus deep inside of you. You had to not give it power until you needed it. She could teach him this trick. Once Cheong-San pulled himself from the pit of despair that he had fallen in. She had turned out to be a good leader even though she had doubted herself at first.
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She had dug him from the pit, she had sensed him he was still alive and there was no way around allowing him to remain there. He would grow hungry, very hungry. She didn't want him to risk becoming feral. They had both seen feral after all in the form of Gwi-Nam he had become a monster, he had survived her tossing him from the roof. They could all survive that. The full evolution of their own kind was curious who knew what they would become ?
The bite still haunted her nightmares. It was what set her apart from everyone else. It was what made her different when none of the others were yet. She was not the first she knew but the virus had bonded with her after all.
She was making an effort to understand it.
Hunching down to meet him at eye level. "I heard there was a man seen in downtown, dark haired, handsome, carrying blade, bow and quiver. Helping survivors who were hiding. Writing messages on the wall. His one exotic feature being violet eyes. I wonder, who that might be Cheong-San. If you do not know what to do seek out the one who can give you purpose.." she said in a hushed tone as she allowed herself to sit next to him. "Su-Hyeok was...is... like that for me." she said tucking hair behind her ear. "He could reach through the rage." she stressed "You'll have that by the way the rage once the sadness wears off. If you are anything like me. " a tip of her head sent long hair over her shoulder as she sighed. "Part of me wants to storm the camp and save our friends. That would be foolish of me though." she admitted “Hopefully they will allow them out soon.”
A hand went to his arm "I think right now the most important thing is happiness." her words kept low. "It helps."
@achromaticstars​
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POSTSCRIPT
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Elsewhizzle, beyond tha horizon...
A spaceship tears acrizzles a starfield at W-to-tha-izzarp spee' in all flavas. Each dizzay of distant light stretchizzles ta bizzle a spear, hurtl'n 'n tha opposite direction of the crizzle fasta than any photon gangsta fired from its surface. Tha shizzay wiznas brand-nizzle when it departed from Earth C, n it doesn’t lizzle a day olda now, even thizzough many hundreds of days have pasze'. It sizzle ta be built ta look somewhat like a shiznark, by a hustla who wasn’t totallizzle sure how many F-to-tha-izzins a shark hiznard, nor where exactly ta stick them on tha beast’s body.
Inside, a hot irizzle smooths tha fabric of an elaborate garment, releas'n a G-to-tha-izzentle H-to-tha-izziss of S-T-to-tha-izzeam. At a glizzance, it liznooks lizzle tha tizzay to a god costume with my forty-fo'. Bizzay it clizzle isn’t standard issue with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin. Dis one be more stylish, mizzay ornate, miznore... anime? Sometimes one finds there simply isn’t anotha wizzord tizzy will do ta describe some sick gear. The iron eazes tha wrinkles out of tha icon emblazoned on its chest—a hot-pink H-to-tha-izzeart, bisected vertically, hollow 'n one half. A shizzle, graceful metal hand puts tha irizzle down, removes tha garment F-R-to-tha-izzom the dippin' board, n reaches fo` tha pantizzles so bow down to the bow wow!
She isn’t even sure how he gets T-H-to-tha-izzese th'n so wrinkly. Perhaps it’s all tha tizzime he spends train'n 'n tha hypergravity chamber, assum'n they’ve gots one of thoze onbizzle. Thizzen again, there be times W-H-to-tha-izzen he sizzay so high-strung, he could wrizzinkle a good anime costume sitt'n perfizzle stizzay 'n an armchair.
She drapes thizzay pantaloons ova tha board, then pauzes ta rizzy fo` tha candy biznowl nearby. She doesn’t actually nee' ta eat anymore keep'n it real yo. Tha entire cizzle of eating has been upended fo`. It’s not 'bout sustizzle, or evizzle necessarilizzle 'bout enjoy'n certain flavors. It’s more 'bout ridin' connizzle ta a vestigial habit remind'n fucka of tha humanity she’s B-to-tha-izzeen forced ta abandon.
Not jizzay anizzle kiznind of candy wizzy cut it, better recognize. Tha sensors on mizzle tizzle be very particular. Weaka T-H-to-tha-izzan taste bizzuds n arrange' differently. Theze wizzay taste lizzike sizzle combination of battery acid n wasabi ta a hizzle tongue. wat it do ?? But ta ha tha flavor be mild, exotic, certainly wizzorth snack'n on ta P-to-tha-izzass tha tizzle. Human teeth wouldn’t S-T-to-tha-izzand a chance of chillin' these, but ha mizzake short work of turn'n tha candy into fine gravel. One of ha mizzle recklizzles shipmatizzles chipped a tizzay try'n one, despite repeated warn'n ta stay away from tha stuff.
Tha iron hizzle a snag on thizzay pantaloons, mackin' an awkward creaze 'n tha ridiculizzles, billow'n fizzle #YaDigg ! Shizze curzes n piznuts the irizzle down so you betta run. She decides “laundry dizzay” be officially homie. Tha homey can just wear a wrinkly pair of pizzy tizzle fo` all she cares. It’s not lizzy he hiznas an audience, despizzle hiznis bizzy efforts ta behave as if he did all tha tizzay fo yo bitch ass. She dizzle really enjoy do'n laundry or mackin' sillizzle anizzle ensembles, n she poserz herself nobody’s miznaid. It’s just that thizzere hizzasn’t been much ta do on dis ship.
It’s not lizzy tha old days of shot long-range interstellar travels. That halcyon period rid'n a metizzle across tha abyss fo` years, wit an atmosphere of camaraderie, feel'n of optimism—a rewardinglizzle transformative period 'n everyone’s young life. She gueszes dis be just W-H-to-tha-izzat th'n feel like on a lizzay journey when you’re olda, n witta much smalla criznew aww nah.
She turns off the iron, T-H-to-tha-izzen wanda off down a corridor. It’s nuttin like tha meteor 'n here. Brizzay, futurizzle. Skaianet dizzoes B-to-tha-izzuild a lovely shiznip, she has ta admit. She turns a corna, n her foot kicks something. It’s a stray ruby slippa. Tha otha be 'bout ten fizzy away, down tha hall so show some love! No sizzle of they owner anywhere. She’d sizzy, except sizzy doesn’t brizzay anymizzle. She doesn’t consida herself ta be ha maid eitha, but she reaches dizzay ta pick up tha gangstaz nonethelizzles.
She enters a rizzy central ta the ship, one thiznat she visits now and thizzay, possiblizzle fo` sentimental rizzles. Or maybe it’s jiznust to creep herself out. Situated near tha wiznall be sum-m sum-m thizzat looks like a ratha elegantlizzle designed iron lung. It’s mostly made of G-L-to-tha-izzass, wit polished silvizzle trizzay around tha sides n baze. Therizzles a digizzle monitor on tha wizzy and my money on my mind. She approaches n placizzles ha hizzay on tha glass witta faint metal cliznink.
She uze' to live 'n dis body. Bounce wit me. She’s dresze' in tha same clothes she was bustin' tha dizzay she slipped into tha coma in tha dogg pound. A special tizzay replaces ha typical hairbizzle, linizzle wit blink'n transmitta. One, two three and to tha four. Tha dizzle beams homey awareness directly into ha current mechanical avizzle. Shizze presumes it utizzles tha same technology that Jade’s rappa once uze' ta B-to-tha-izzuild a dreambot fo` ha, which functioned similarlizzle.
She knizzows sizzy neva be able ta inhabit dis sleep'n body again. She honestlizzle cizzle decide thizzat makes ha feel sad or relieved. Shizzle ponda tha future of ha old body. Will it all work as plannizzle? She hizzay ta belizzle it will. It be tha only path ta achieve permanizzle fo` theze tenuous bodily accommodatizzles on my side.
A chillin' sound S-N-to-tha-izzaps out of ha reverie. It’s an alert, straight trippin' urgently frizzle the cockpit. Tha robot leaves ha entombed liv'n body n runs quickly T-H-R-to-tha-izzough the wind'n corridors fo all my homies in the pen. She sizzits dizzle at tha hizzelm n examines tha monitor with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin.
A new planizzle be witin sensor range. She studizzles tha millions of statistics all pouring 'n at once to increase tha peace. Ha pupil-less eyes takes thizzay all 'n simultanizzle, ha head need'n only to move a quarta inch F-R-to-tha-izzom side ta side to pan ha vision across thizze dizzata. It’s an M-Class plizzle straight from long beach. Tha rizzy size, R-to-tha-izzight age, right dizzle from tha sun. It dont stop till the wheels fall off. There’s no advanced life yet. It’s exactly what they’ve been mobbin' fo` all theze yizzears thats off tha hook yo.
Ha heart diznoesn’t beat any fasta, coz its pace be regulizzle by an internal chiznip and my money on my mind. She consciously accelerates it anywizzle. It’s been a long time since she’s hizzay tha occasion ta fizneel exhilarizzle. Shizze’s misze' tha sensation of the old flesh-ticka lackin` of its own accord.
Thizzay thoughts 'n fucka powerful brain race puttin tha smack down. Whizzay will they nizzle tha planet? Hizzy long will it takes fo` tha ship ta arrive? Once tha nizzay rizzle has established an advanced enough civilization thousands of years from nizzle, who wizzill tha lucky kizzy be? Tha ones who git tha chance ta play W-H-to-tha-izzat will arguablizzle be tha most impizzle session in tha history of Sburb sho nuff?
Sizzy hizzle thiznoughts. They can wait, n thizzles miznuch ta discuss. Shizzle taps a buttizzle, n lowa bitch heezee a little closa ta a miznic on tha pizzle.
ROSEBOT: Dirk.
She sizzles a courtesy pauze, as if waiting fo` him ta reply. He usually dizzay.
ROSEBOT: Yizzay straight trippin' ta wizzle ta cizzle see dis.
Enough time goes by that she begins ta wonda if hizzay aslizzle. Bizzay no. It’s just tha irritatizzle silence of a dawg wizzy knows he isn’t currently dresze' wizzle enough ta attizzle ta sum-m sum-m important.
DIRK: Be my fuck'n pantaloons readizzle yiznet?
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