#he’d try and suppress whatever longing he’s feeling
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WIP Wednesday
Happy Wednesday! Have DFS's POV from my MLC longfic, which should probably be subtitled "banter with knives."
(DFS just learned LLH gave away the Wangchuan flower and needs to lose his shit about it in private. Instead, LLH is grilling him about something FDB let slip and is also inwardly losing his shit about it. They're both trying to pretend they are ok.)
(You can find earlier excerpts here.)
Warning: Suppressed panic attack/flashback
Silence stretched.
This was absurd. They should have been celebrating. Or picking up where they left off this morning before everything had fallen apart.
And instead, Xiangyi was about to subject him to an interrogation that would make Sigu Sect proud.
He just had to pull himself together first.
Di Feisheng made his fingers release their grip on Xiangyi–it felt harder than trying to heal his severed meridians without Yangzhouman–forced his breathing to stay steady, closed his eyes, and started to meditate.
Five counts breathing in, five counts breathing out. If he focused his attention on his hands, he could almost feel the metallic thread woven through his inner robe against his fingertips, the–oh fuck, he had been in just his inner robe this entire time, too exposed, too vulnerable, too much like the first time she–
–stop that, he snapped in his mind. Breathe in for five counts, out for five counts.
Five counts in, five counts–
“So,” Xiangyi interrupted. Di Feisheng barely suppressed a startled twitch. “Did you lend Xiaobao your whistle for Wuyan, or does he have his own now?”
Di Feisheng swallowed and managed to pry open his mouth. Not answering would look worse than playing along. “It’s a spare. In case he found you before I did.” Maybe he could distract him. He arranged his lips in an approximation of a smirk. “Why do you ask, Xiangyi? Jealous?”
Xiangyi snorted. “Nice try, Di-Mengzhu, but your parrying needs some work. You’ve gotten sloppy these last few months. Now, I assume the medicine Wuyan rushed here last night was for you. At least in part. So what else are you and Xiaobao hiding from me?”
Di Feisheng gritted his teeth, despite knowing Xiangyi was watching his every move, every twitch, every breath, for weaknesses. The fucking audacity of this man. “Nothing compared with what you hid from me.”
There was a long pause. Then a weary, wry puff of air. “I take it back. You still aim true.”
Di Feisheng pressed his hands harder against his legs to force them steady. Fuck, he couldn’t do this. Not now. Either he’d lash out and give Xiangyi more things to hate himself for, or he’d let something slip that he couldn’t afford to share. Both were too dangerous to risk.
He swallowed hard and let his hands curl around Dao’s scabbard. “You want to know? I’ll tell you. After I meditate for half a shichen.” And by then, he’d have mastered himself enough to handle whatever Xiangyi would try to drag out of him. It wasn’t actually a surrender.
There was a short silence. A whisper of hair against fabric, probably Xiangyi tilting his head to inspect him for clues.
“Ah, so you’ve moved on from holding people hostage to holding conversations hostage. Very clever, Di-Mengzhu. But it won’t work. I still won’t accept qi from you until you’ve reached thirty percent of your total neili. You’re not going to change my mind with a little silence.”
His fingers clenched around Dao until his knuckles turned white. Of course Xiangyi would make him work for the right to pull himself together. He took a long, slow inhale. “It’s not to change your mind. It’s to not destroy your furniture,” he growled, hoping the slight tremor in his voice would come across as just anger.
Another short pause, then a longer soft sigh. “Alright, a-Fei. Take as long as you need.”
#mysterious lotus casebook#my fic#WIP Wednesday#Di Feisheng#Li Lianhua#Dihua#Feihua#Difanghua#spoilers: he does not take as long as he needs#There is no amount of time that would be enough to prepare for the conversation they have coming#Which is possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to write?
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what would POYT steve have done if he saw peter and his omega together before him and omega got together?
would he beat peter up?
would he have cornered omega?
Good question! I never thought about that before! I can imagine Steve would be caught off guard a bit, and he’d feel a lot of emotions at once. Mainly anger. Bc how dare this nerdy omega from his class be kissing and holding hands with some random skinny nobody boy??? Could she possibly have a boyfriend?
And it would really irk Steve but he wouldn’t understand why… he’d rationalise in his head that it’s bc an omega should be with an alpha… not whatever this random guy is. Yeah, that’s totally the reason why he’s so affected, it’s not like Steve’s jealous, pffft… definitely not jealous.
Then some juvenile behaviour would ensue. Steve would trip someone up and they’d go flying into omega, who would fall at the impact. Then Steve and co would laugh at her. Then Peter would try and stand up to Steve, and that would give Steve (and Sam and Bucky) a reason to beat Peter up😩
But it would end with omega cleaning up Peter’s wounds, and Steve feeling not nearly as fulfilled or happy.
#he’d try and suppress whatever longing he’s feeling#go home and fuck Sharon#except he’d press her face into the pillow#and right before he comes… guess who he’d picture is beneath him instead???#🤨🤔🤨🤔#is that a snippet of the Steve prequel???😳😳😳#hehehehe#not the Peter part tho bc steve finds out about Peter in poyt 1#anyways#poyt ask#smile1318
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Toxic!Slytherin boys when they realize that if they don't make an effort to change, they will never fully win the heart of the person they believe to be the love of their life.
Slytherin Boys – when they realize that they could lose you if they don't make an effort to change
Warnings: toxic boys, being their toxic selves.
Mattheo …
… would struggle so much. He would be in complete denial and think that everyone else was trying to force you apart until you finally broke down in front of him because of something he had said. His eyes had widened when he heard you whimper as you cried. And that was the first time he actually questioned himself.
… was plagued by nightmares that night, when he laid in bed. Nightmares of losing you. In the morning, he had to accept the truth: He was going to lose you if he didn’t change.
… would change slowly, as it proved to be more difficult to let old habits die than he expected. He wouldn’t talk about it or apologize to you in fear of making you realize what big of an asshole he had been to you – he couldn’t risk losing you. He would only apologize and tell you he’d change if you were to fight.
Theodore …
… is confused when you angrily shut the door behind you, standing in the middle of his room, all alone, with his mouth agape.
… would immediately take it back a notch and suppress the urge to control and manipulate you.
… would apologize to you with tears in his beautiful eyes as he lifted your hands to his face to press kisses onto every single finger.
… would not be as cocky and arrogant as usual after being ignored by you for days – because for the first time ever, he was scared of losing you.
… would buy you flowers every day – he would even make the lemon biscotti his late mother used to make him to cheer him up.
“My mother used to make these for me to express her love for me and I hope it conveys the same message to you. I’m so sorry, amore. I was wrong – please forgive me.”
Lorenzo …
… would be dead-serious when he realized you were drifting away.
… would try everything to tighten his grip on you – which backfired at first. While he was trying to pull you closer, he pushed you even further away with his clinginess.
… would have to confide in his friend, for he couldn’t find a balanced way to change but he wouldn’t be satisfied with their feedback.
… in the end he would sit you down and talk to you – heart to heart. He would push aside his pride and talk about his insecurities with you and tell you that he wanted to change.
… had been scared at first – thinking you would laugh into his face. However, it seemed to be the right thing to do as you seemed to melt away at his vulnerability, throwing your arms around him in a warm embrace.
“Thank you, love. I’ll be better, I promise.”
Draco …
… panics.
… is frantic because he does not know what to do. What were you expecting of him?
… would be too proud to ask you.
… asks his mother instead, who is disappointed by her son’s behavior.
… will think about his mother’s words after the hour-long lecture that he had to sit through and will try to apply some of her advice.
… will work really hard to make things right.
“I’m sorry for neglecting your feelings, princess.”
Blaise …
… knew it was coming.
… knew that you were smart and that you would probably be fed up with him if he went too far – which he apparently did.
… he’d be at your door the next morning after the fight, ready to do whatever you asked of him.
“Babe, I truly love you – please forgive me. I know you love me too. So, please … give me another chance.”
Tom …
… refuses to change.
… does not recognize his mistakes or wrong-doings – he thinks you’re being overly sensitive and dramatic.
… is a legilimens and uses his abilities to his advantage – if he finds out that you are too weak to leave him – too in love – he’ll never change.
… however, if he is worried, he’ll entertain your wish for him to change occasionally. Giving into some of your demands once in a while if it works out for him only to go back to his usual ways.
… will have you trapped that way. If you somehow try to leave him, he’ll still have his trusted wand to assist him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, doll. Now be a good girl and come here – you know I’d never harm you in any way.”
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys headcanons#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#draco imagine#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#lorenzo berkshire imagine#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire#mattheo x you#blaise zabini#blaise zabini x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#slytherin#toxic slytherin boys
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!! nsfw; threesome (the sex doesn’t happen tho LOL); shifting povs; sorta pt 02 of this
"do you feel nervous when i stare?" he asks.
it is a soft question, rumbled from the base of his throat tentatively as though not to spook you. still it makes you flinch, body locking on the bed as you shift your anxious eyes towards him.
john, he said when he introduced himself to you. call me john.
you were so enamoured at finally seeing him—you traced the way the skin around his eyes were wrinkled in his smile, or how the careful rise of his lips were hidden behind the tufts of his beard. you couldn’t even contain the bubbling feeling pooling in your heart, excitement and nervousness mixing in miasmic waves because there he was, just as kind as simon told you he would be. just as careful.
simon promised you that the most, after all.
("cap'n's soft," he murmured as he held your hand, his thumb swiping along the ridges of your knuckles. "he tries to deny it but we've all seen how he indulges."
he turned to you then, expression unreadable even in the absence of his mask. simon studied your face, searching for something, until he stopped—you wondered then if he found whatever it was he had been looking for—and brushed his knuckle against your cheek instead.
"y’ve got nothin’ to worry about." he met your gaze again. "he’d love you just as much.")
you never once doubted him, of course, but you’ve only ever been with simon. only ever had to be conscious of his gaze, only ever had to work for his desire—not that you needed to do much, or so simon tells you.
you don’t know how to exist for someone that isn’t simon and his attentiveness—burning in the way he bears down onto you, pressing himself against your tender parts to devour your gasps and your whimpers.
you don’t know how to be desirable for someone that isn’t simon.
but—
john looks at you like you’ve ignited the same fire that burns within simon’s eyes. it’s all so feverish, rippling in magnitudes, until the slow trickle engulfs you whole. it makes you squirm, feeling so constrained within your own body, like you need to be doing something more than sitting before john like a pretty prize.
too caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t even notice the familiar bearing presence beside you until a rough hand pinches your chin to make your head tilt up. you bite down on a choked gurgle of your surprise, trying your best not to react, but your efforts don’t matter much, anyway. not when trained eyes pick up at the tremors of your hands and at the way your breaths pass through in quiet wheezes.
simon locked gazes with his captain from the top of your head, but john only looks at him with the same small smile, the one that always spoke of how pleased he is. it makes simon turn to you, his own body thrumming with the muted press of his desires.
“won’t you answer him, love?” he croons, pulling you from the depths of your thoughts—see, captain? aren’t i good?—and watches with nothing short of pride as you nod.
john devours the sight you and simon make with anticipation, pretending that his cock isn’t heavy from where it’s pressed on the inside of his thigh.
he doesn’t even know how long he’s waited for this day; for the time when he finally gets you and simon both. all he knew was that the wait was torturous, tipping his desperation into its ragged course, forcing him to suppress his wants by burning through work with wild ferocity. not even his fist had been enough on the days when the need was yowling from his jowls.
so when simon had finally stumbled into his office, his own body poised like a taut string, john realized what it was that he came to price for.
he felt like a rabid dog that was told that he could bite; that he could sink his fangs into the soft parts of the flesh he caved so that he may feast.
“yes,” you finally murmur, beautiful in your bashfulness, answering his question—do you feel nervous when i stare?—with honesty.
“y’r just.” you pause to lick at your lips. “y’r just so much more than what i thought.”
“oh?” john asks, intrigued. “and you don’t like that?”
“i do.”
simon and john watch as you clench your hands into fists, eyes ducking down again in your shyness. the tension is building, amping up heatedly, and they wonder if you’re even aware of what you do to them.
“i just don’t know how you’d like me.”
such a soft sentiment—you worry about how john would like you as if you haven’t been the fuel of his carnal dreams. as if he hadn’t stayed awake at night, holding himself in his fist as he imagined how you would sound when he’s taking you; how you would look when you’re at the precipice of your pleasure. would you cry? would you whimper? would you hold onto him as though that would ground you from the apex of your euphoria?
don’t you know? he’s saved every video that simon sent to him?
“y’ve got nothin’ to worry about, doll,” john grunts as he leans back against his seat.
he pats his lap. “c’mere an’ i’ll show you what you do to me.”
you clamber to your feet, stumbling over in your wobbling excitement. it’s endearing, how you’re just as much desperate for him as he is to you.
john tilts his head just enough to meet simon’s eyes, mirth building at ghost’s obedience. he’s been silent, watching, devouring the way you and john gravitated towards each other like a man starved. john knows what he must be waiting for.
he hums to himself as hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you to his lap, his other hand rising to cup at your cheek, desperate to touch you every way he can. still, there’s something else he wants to do. so he twists you just enough that your head is resting on his shoulder and tipped to the lone body on the bed with interest.
(simon knew it. you look absolutely heart-shattering with his captain.)
“you too boy,” john barks out, his heart lurching at simon’s full-body tremble. “don’t you want y’r reward?”
your fists grip the scruff of john’s shirt and he wonders, so choked up with his anticipation, if you haven’t seen simon like this. if simon was always the dominant one between you two; the one who always demanded things off you.
(oh but you have seen simon in his submission. gods, you have. and he was so beautiful then, whining to you as he humped his cock into the warm press of your walls, his face nuzzling the column of your neck as though that would muffle his pleasured hymns.
as though you couldn’t feel just how beautiful your perfect love is in the throes of his bliss, trembling, mewling. splintering, unable to force himself back into the mask of his indifference.)
you watch as simon rouses from the bed, slow like he is postured for his own hunt. it makes you ache, unable to discern exactly why all of you fit with each other, just that you do. you’re not even torn between who to bend over to—john had made sure you and simon knew it was him who will call the shots.
simon’s hand falls on the valley of your spine, caressing you, before he pitches forward, hovering before john.
it’s john who gives him the kiss—the reward, as sweet as eden.
and right there, as they lose themselves, you know nothing else could ever be as erotic as this.
me too, you want to say, i want one too. but they’re already shifting, muscles rippling, as they turn to you—a prey caught in between.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#john price x reader#price x reader#ghost x price#cod x reader#suns#im posting this before my usual sched so watch it tank bUT IVE BEEN SO EXCITED TO SHARE THIS POLY FIC BC SM REQD FOR A PT 02 !!!
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how do u think the first kiss w the harbingers will go :?
Imagine having your first kiss with the Harbingers.
Pierro kisses you with longing but also protectively. Since the fall of his homeland, he has learned to not become attached or to crave anything, for they could disappear all too easily. Yet it seems that no matter how hard he tried to ignore his yearning, your temptation became far too much for him to resist. So when he finally gives in, finally kisses you, you can feel his suppressed desires seeping through your body. You knew how long he wanted this, yet he was a man of great restraint and patience, so it was no surprise it took this long for him to kiss you. Yet, something about such a powerful man becoming unraveled in your arms is deliciously delightful. Regardless of anything, Pierro, at that moment, vows to protect you despite it all.
Capitano kisses you like you’re glass, and if he puts too much force he’d accidentally break you. Even he is surprised by how soft he is able to press his lips to yours, for it was highly uncharacteristic of him. But this is what you’ve done to him, the effect you’ve had, Capitano supposes. His hands are awkwardly placed away from you, and you can sense that they are twitching, unsure of where they should go. You have to stop yourself from sighing into the kiss at this idiot of a man and grab his hands yourself, letting him cup your cheeks, hook an arm around your waist, or wherever you like. The Captain follows your lead for once instead of leading others, observing what you like the best.
Dottore kisses you like how he treats an experiment - cautious at first, but as he gains more knowledge and experience, he takes more risky and daring actions. Zandik may be unpracticed in this field, but he was not one to show weakness, and he takes initiative. It is a miracle in itself to have Dottore kiss you (though Dottore would chastise you for saying that, he does not believe in miracles, it was calculated, he’d say.) He tests the waters at first - he wants to see what makes you tick. What is the most pleasurable course of action? He wants to see how you react when he nibbles on your lip, kisses you until you are out of breath, until you are so dizzy you have to cling to him for support. And don’t worry, he will have his results in due time. Dottore is a very patient man, after all.
Columbina kisses you like how an angel would, light, airy, and gentle. The kiss almost does not feel real, for her lips are so soft and fluttering, it takes you a second to realize she is kissing you. She giggles into the kiss and presses her weight onto your body, trying to envelop you in her embrace. Her kisses are playful and it is over as quickly as they began, leaving you reeling and wondering if that really just happened. It does not take Columbina long to swoop in for another delicate and feathery peck, claiming your lips as hers. She hums as she pulls you to the ground with her, insistent on her spree of peppering kisses.
Arlecchino kisses you almost hesitantly, as if she is unsure that she can do this. She is made up of ice and fear and control and ruthlessness and- well, many, many more things that you already know. Arlecchino has no exact idea of what is love, or how one should love, or how it is to be loved, but she is sure that what she feels towards you is some type of love. But, is it really ok for her to steal your lips? To corrupt yours with her own? She hovers over your lips momentarily, contemplating it, before you tug on her hair and pull her to you. Arlecchino is briefly surprised yet the doubtfulness she felt disappears after a few seconds of kissing you. Discarding her uncertainty, she kisses you wholly and firmly, pouring whatever this foreign lighthearted emotion she has into it.
Scaramouche kisses you roughly in hopes of showing that no, he does not actually love you. He’s just doing this to let off steam, he tries to convince himself and you. There is nothing more between the two of you. Yet you can easily sense the overwhelming passion and possessiveness laced into the kiss, intertwined with those pent-up emotions that he loathes. You can sense the anger that he feels for loving you, the anger and revolt he feels for wanting to be loved, to be held, to be touched, yet you can also sense his crushing desire for all of those things as well. Scaramouche digs his hands into your hair, keeping you in place as he loses himself in your lips. To others, it may look like he’s holding you forcefully, but to you, you know that this is his way of begging you not to go. The first kiss was meant to end everything, yet it only sealed the deal (and your lips.)
Sandrone kisses you mechanically, accidentally exposing her lack of understanding and experience for this intimate activity. She does not know how to kiss naturally, having spent most of her time with robots and puppets. You almost laugh into the kiss as you feel how stiffly she is kissing you, though at least she was trying. You knew that Sandrone was not uncomfortable despite her rigidness, rather, this was the only way she knew how to do this - she thought this was the correct way to kiss, which was kind of cute. When she pulls away and gives you a triumphant smile, you burst out in giggles which confuses her. You merely peck Sandrone on the cheek again and tell her that you required many more test runs in the future. Well, Sandrone is not opposed to learning more, if you’re willing to teach her.
La Signora kisses you like how flames smother and consume you whole. She has loved and she has lost, and she is familiar with how the fire of love can be extinguished at a moment’s notice. Therefore, despite her icy aura and nature, when Rosalyne kisses you for the first time, it is full of her burning hot desire and thirst that desperately needs to be quenched. She tries to appear strong yet she is secretly vulnerable, for she is scared to lose you. She cannot lose you, her kiss silently conveys. And you will not leave her, you reassure her, as you happily let yourself melt into her heated passion. You just hoped she would not go somewhere in which you couldn’t follow.
Pantalone kisses you like you are his most prized possession. He is known for taking great care of his high-end belongings, making sure everything he owns is kept to the highest degree of supervision. You never expected to reach such a high level of affection, yet when Pantalone kisses you for the first time, your mind begs to differ. The kiss is enough to make you swoon, and he supports you easily with an arm around your waist. He kisses you suavely, charmingly, and many other words that your vocabulary can’t seem to describe. The kiss feels so endearing, and it baffles you as to how just one kiss manages to make you feel as if you are on top of the world. That is exactly what he aims for, though. You are his greatest treasure, with worth above all else.
Childe kisses you like how waves roll across the shoreline. His kisses are relaxing yet they are more so exciting, they urge you to chase after him for a better time, much like how the lap of water tickles your feet at the beach, encouraging you to abandon everything and dive into the ocean. Ajax has waited a long time for this moment, and he does not wish to scare you off by being too overwhelming, yet he cannot help but kiss you with everything he has. He leaves you breathless, lips slightly swollen, and presents you with one of his stupid and giddy smiles. His kisses are enticing and addictive, causing you to come back for more and more, and Ajax will happily indulge you, but beware. Get too close, and you may end up drowning. But, who's to say that is a bad thing?
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#dottore x reader#capitano x reader#pantalone x reader#scaramouche x reader#childe x reader#pierro x reader#columbina x reader#arlecchino x reader#la signora x reader#sandrone x reader#il dottore x reader#fatui x reader#fatui harbingers x reader#fatui harbingers#capitano genshin#dottore genshin#pantalone genshin
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Rick Grimes NSFW Alphabet
Just a little something I whipped up for a friend ✨💛
✨ pairing: Rick Grimes x Reader
✨ warnings: NSFW (smut)
✨ A/N: honestly for a Daryl girlie myself, it was a lot easier to write HCs for Rick 🤣
A - Aftercare
A King. He’s 100% for a cuddle. He’s like a baby; he needs skin to skin, even if it’s just holding your hand
B - Body (his favorite part)
Ass. He’s all about that ass. He’s gonna say he loves all parts of you (and it’s true), but he’s got a weakness for your ass. He can’t help but stare as you’re walking away.
C - Cum (anything to do with cum)
He knows that protection is a rare commodity in these times. If he could finish inside, best believe he’s going to, but he doesn’t not like the look of you covered in his cum.
D - Dirty Little Secret (what’s he hiding 🤭)
He doesn’t have any dirty secrets, but he does keep his feelings for you suppressed as long as possible, especially if you’re significantly younger than him
E - Experience
He’s a fairly experienced guy. Kinda. He’s not a virgin by any means, he’s got kids. But he’s only been with 2-3 people at most.
F - Favorite Position
Classic missionary bby. He wants to see your face.
G - Goofy?
He’s fairly serious, but if something funny happens, like you slip while trying to switch positions, he’ll let out a little giggle.
H - Hair
It’s the apocalypse. How do you think grooming goes? Once he’s in the Alexandria safe haven, he’ll keep himself trimmed up. As for you, he doesn’t care at all. It’s your body and it’s whatever you say.
I - Intimacy
He is very sweet and intimate. He loves showering together. It’s his favorite form of intimacy, whether it leads to sex or not. He loves when you wash his back, and he loves when washing your hair and giving you a nice scalp massage.
J - Jorkin’ It
For stress relief, and definitely before y’all get together. But once you’re together, he’d rather just go straight to you
K - Kinks
He’s a fairly vanilla guy, but he’s not opposed to spanking, roughhousing a little. Maybe you can convince him to role play a little in his uniform.
L - Location
He prefers at home. He’s not a risky man as it is and he doesn’t want to risk being caught. It’s motivated by respect for you.
M - Motivations (turn ons)
Anything you do. He throws his all into everything and he is all about you.
N - NOs
Nothing that can put you in danger. Nothing restraining for either of you
O - Oral
Giving and receiving. He loves it. He’s all for it. He always says “baby you don’t have to”, when you get on your knees but you both know he wants it and he is more than happy to reciprocate.
P — Pace
Soft, slow, and sensual. He comes from a place of love and respect, and he’s going to take his time with you.
Q — Quickies?
If he has to. In the beginning, maybe that’s all you had.
In Alexandria, if you get enough in him to drink at a party, rile him up enough, he’ll pull you into a corner for a make out session and then tell you to meet him at home in 10 minutes.
R — Risky?
Nope. He’s not risky at all. He’s pulling out. He’s making sure no one is around.
S — Stamina
He can go a few rounds, for sure. But he is climbing in age, so
T — Toys
Hard to come by in the apocalypse, but in a situation where it’s available, he sees your toys as his teammates.
U — Unfair
He can be a bit of a tease when you start developing a more domestic relationship. A slide of his hand down your back, a quick squeeze of your ass (he can’t help it).
V — Volume
He’s not super loud, but he’s vocal. A lot of “That’s it”, “feels so good”; etc.
W — Wildcard (dealer’s choice hc)
I think he’s jealous. He knows you’re a helpful person and he knows others are drawn to you. He can’t help but feel a little jealous. And boy does he love when you get jealous. He loves being able to tease you when you’re jealous.
X — X-ray
He’s packing. Nothing extraordinary, but you’ll giggle with the girls over tea, as respectfully as possible. He is shy, ya know.
Y — Yearning
He’s a yearning man. He’s not a desperate type of needy, but he will tug at your clothes as he holds you from behind and whisper “need you”
Z — ZZZ
He definitely wants to sleep after, which is why he doesn’t really like doing it anywhere but home.
#rick grimes#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes smut#the walking dead#the walking dead x reader#smut alphabet
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🖤🩶Fallen🩶🖤
~Lucifer x Angel!Reader🪽
Part 1 𖦹 Part 2 𖦹 Part 3 𖦹 Part 4 𖦹 Part 4.5 𖦹 Part 5
Summary: You meet with Lucifer only to be propositioned by Val. Not understanding exactly what he's asking of you, you ask Lucifer to show you.
Warnings/promises: 16+, teasing, weird tail stuff, pining, sex talk, jealousy, Val appearance
Lucifer's eyes light up as he sees you, his gaze becoming tender and gentle. "My beloved angel, it's always a pleasure to see you." He takes your hand, a hint of longing in his touch. "How have you been since our last meeting?"
"I've been quite well," you say with a smile. "I picked out a table for us. I remember you said this cafe was the best in hell, didn't you?"
Lucifer smiles, his eyes shining with pure bliss as he lets you lead the way. He pulls out the chair for you and sits down across the table. "Yes, I did say that. And I stand by it, this place has the best coffee and pastries in all of Hell."
"Well I look forward to confirming it," you say with a giggle.
Lucifer chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'm sure you will, my dear." He leans forward, his eyes locked onto yours. "But I must admit, I was hoping to have more than just pastries with you today."
"I'm up for anything, you've never led me astray before, Lucifer."
The King of Hell suppressed a laugh. He’d never heard anything like *that* before. Still though, hearing his name on your lips sends pleasurable shivers down his spine.
"My angel," he whispers, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "You always know just what to say to make me happy..."
“I try.” You tilt your head, giving a sweet smile. “I enjoy your company. I don't think I'd trade it for anything. I think you're quickly becoming my favorite person."
Lucifer knows you mean it quite innocently, but it's impossible not to let it get to him. His eyes soften, a tender smile playing at the corners of his lips. "My dear, that is perhaps the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." He leans back in his chair, unable to hide the pleasure your words have brought him.
"Really?" You ask though you believe him wholeheartedly. "That's no good. I'll have to start complimenting you more."
Lucifer laughs, the sound deep and melodic. "You spoil me," he says, shaking his head in mock despair. "But I'm not complaining.~" He reaches out, lifting your hand to his lips for a quick kiss.
You blush, the surprised look on your face the best reward he could have hoped for, before you smile and look away, covering your lips with a curled finger.
Lately, everything seems to be getting to him. Every shared moment, every blush. Lucifer wishes he could have you right here. But he suppresses the thought. You're an angel; and a particularly innocent one at that. He has to remind himself how terrible it would be to compromise you. "Ahem! Well! Uh... would you like me to go and get some coffee and pastries for us?" he asks.
"Oh! Yes, yes. Um. I'll have something milky and sweet, and whatever pastries you think I'll like," you say, waving away your embarrassment. “I trust you.”
Lucifer smiles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I always have the best intentions when it comes to you, my dear angel." He rises from the couch, adjusting his suit jacket as he heads towards the door. "I'll be back in just a moment."
Lucifer heads inside, picking out different things he's sure you'll like before walking to the cashier. He can see you through the window talking to someone who’d just walked up to the table. At first, the idea makes him smile, happy you're getting comfortable talking to other residents of hell, but then he recognizes who this sinner is.
Valentino.
Lucifer's smile quickly fades, replaced by a furrowed brow as he watches the interaction between you and Val. A rush of possessiveness and anger floods through him. He sees the overlord trying to flirt with you, a tempting smile plastered on his face.
You giggle at whatever the moth man just said, and Lucifer feels a flash of fear mixed with an overwhelming desire to protect you. He swiftly pays for the pastries and coffee, his movements sharp and deliberate. He can feel the intensity of his emotions building, a storm brewing inside him. He wants to rip Valentino away from you, to protect what's his. As he walks out the door he’s now able to hear your conversation.
"No, really! You're absolutely gorgeous, Chiquita!" Val says with a crafty grin.
"Oh, stop," you blush, waving away the compliment. "You're just saying that."
"I assure you I'm not," he says, taking your hand and kissing it. Though unlike Lucifer it’s in far too intimate a manner. "You're quite the specimen. I'm lucky to have found you before someone else did..."
Lucifer stops short at the door, his eyes narrowing. He can hear Valentino's words, the way he speaks to you. The way he touches you. It sends a wave of anger and jealousy coursing through him.
"You wanna get outta here?" Val asks, "My studio is real close by. You seem so much more fresh-faced than all the other sinners down here, it’s simply..." he takes a deep and, honestly, creepy inhale of you, "Intoxicating. I'd love to try and capture it on camera. I'd be sure to compensate you handsomely.”
"I'm sorry, I can't. I'm here with someone," you say with a smile.
"Oh? And who's the lucky soul who has your company this evening...?" he asks just as Lucifer walks up.
The king of Hell's eyes flash with possessiveness at the mention of someone else accompanying you. He steps forward, wrapping an arm protectively around your waist and pulling you close to him, looking at Valentino with a cold, almost challenging gaze. "Me."
Val stands a little straighter, eyes widening. "Well, well, well. Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear," he smiles. "I'll leave you two to your meal then," he says with a bow while one of his four arms flips a business card around, handing it to you. "Give me a call when you're not busy with... other matters," he says, giving the king a look of challenge.
Lucifer's grip on you tightens, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your hip as he watches Valentino walk away. He turns to you with a grimace, his eyes alight with jealousy and desire. "What was he asking you about?" he asks with a weight to his voice.
You light up at the tray of pastries he's set before you, clearly much less upset by your conversation with Val than he is. "Luci, this all looks delicious!"
Lucifer's expression softens as you turn your attention to the food in front of you, his jealousy briefly forgotten. He takes a step closer to you, resting a hand on your lower back. "I think you'll like each one of them," he admits, his voice low and husky.
You begin to pick one up, taking a bite and practically melting at the taste. "This is so good!" You squeeze your fists and wiggle them in joy. For a split second, his happiness returns only to notice the business card still in your hand.
"Ah, right," Lucifer says, reaching over and plucking the card from your grasp. He holds it up between two fingers, his expression contemplative. "Do you plan on calling him?" he asks, watching you with a calculating gaze.
You shrug. "Maybe," you answer, taking another bite of his delectable choices. "He offered me a modeling job! Isn't that neat!? He made it sound quite fun."
Lucifer's expression darkens as you speak, his eyes flashing with indignation. "Did he now?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous. He takes the card and slides it into his pocket. The idea of you taking a ‘modeling job’ with Val, the kingpin of porn and sex trafficking in Hell, makes his stomach turn.
"Yes! He said that with my beauty and innocence he could sell me for a whole lot! Apparently, I'd be easy to market." The words escaping you are a nightmare to Lucifer, but you don't seem to understand what it is exactly you've been offered.
"Noooo! Nonononono, nohoho! No.” Lucifer's expression is both defiant and horrified as you speak, his eyes wide from the sheer naivety of what you’re saying. "Do you… do you have any idea what kind of 'modeling job' he's referring to?"
You shrug again, truthfully unaware. "He said I'd pose for pictures and maybe some videos?" You say, tilting your head.
"Videos!?” His heart leaps into his throat. “Okay. Okay, let me explain this to you clearly." Lucifer takes your hands in his, holding them close to his face like a calming talisman. His voice is low, breath hot against your skin as, with a hiss, he enlightens you as to what taking that ‘job’ would mean. "Sweetheart, he's a porn director."
You tilt your head the other direction, inadvertently bringing to mind a confused puppy. He tries to remain focused despite the intense cuteness. "What is that...?"
"That means he makes films, erotic, adult films that are distributed for people to watch," Lucifer says, his face reddening. His thumb rubs your knuckles softly as he tries to explain without being too explicit.
"Erotic?" You ask. "What makes these films 'adult' exactly?" You ask.
"Uh…” he begins to struggle. “Adult films are made for people of a certain age, 18 and above because they showcase explicit sex scenes," Lucifer says, now looking at you with concern.
"I'm not sure I understand..." You say slowly.
Lucifer takes a deep breath. "It means they would um… be intimate on camera, and you could watch them do it."
You raise an eyebrow. "Why would people enjoy watching that?" It's then that he realizes that you truly don't have any idea what he's talking about.
Lucifer blinks, surprised by your question. He bites his lower lip before speaking. "Well people enjoy watching two, or more others, get physically intimate with each other. Watching others… expressing their feelings towards each other can be exciting."
"Oh! I've done that!" You say excitedly.
Lucifer's face suddenly drains of color as you speak. He can't help but feel queasy at the thought of you and a partner getting intimate. He gulps, trying to compose himself before he manages to speak. "Oh? you... you have?"
"Yes! Like this!" You say standing and running around the table towards him.
Lucifer's eyes widen as you suddenly approach. He quickly stands up, not knowing what you're planning. He stumbles backwards as he tries to distance himself from you, but you're already upon him.
You throw my arms around him in a hug before kissing his cheek sweetly. "See?" You say with a sweet smile. "Physical intimacy."
Lucifer's heart races as you throw your arms around him, not expecting the sudden hug. He hesitates a moment before giving into the embrace, wrapping his arms around you too. His face turns bright red as you kiss his cheek and explain that it's physical intimacy. The relief that washes through him is almost palpable. "Oh..."
You can see the stress on his face. "Is that not right?" You ask, slightly worried.
Lucifer shakes his head, trying to suppress his embarrassment. "No... that's right. That is in fact physical intimacy, I understand." He takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself. He still looks a bit flustered but manages to give you a small smile. "But um... that's not the kind he's talking about."
"Oh," you say, slightly disappointed, walking back to your chair. "Then what is he talking about...?"
Lucifer sits back down as well, now feeling even more uncomfortable. "I... he's talking about sex," He says in a low voice, avoiding eye contact with you. "I-I mean, that's what people usually think of when they talk about physical intimacy. Sex…”
"Oh. You mean like for procreation?” You ask. “Why would someone want to watch others procreate…?”
Lucifer is taken aback. “Oh, you’re *innocent* innocent… Have you really never heard of this before?" He asks incredulously.
You shake your head. "Are the videos a good thing?" You ask, before thinking out loud, "Well, if the subject upsets you this much probably not. So then... is it a sin to make them?" You ask instead.
Lucifer chuckles at your question. "No, it's not a sin," He says. "Well, I suppose that depends on your beliefs. But traditionally, sex is seen as a natural part of human relationships. It's all about consent and mutual pleasure."
"Have you done it?" You ask innocently.
Lucifer blushes at your question, unable to maintain eye contact. "Um, well... yes. Yes, I have." He admits, his voice low and hesitant. "I do have a daughter after all.”
“Oh, right! I didn't realize she was created that way, but that makes sense.” You rub your chin before looking back up at Lucifer. “Is that the only time you've done it?”
“N-no. I've… I've had my share of experience,” Lucifer says, getting redder by the second.
"Interesting… so it has another purpose beyond procreation?" You ask, thankfully skipping over the previous answer.
Lucifer takes deep breaths as he composes himself. "Yes, it does," He says, his voice stronger now. "Sex has a biological purpose in reproduction, but it can also be an expression of love and intimacy between two people." He explains, meeting your gaze once more.
“Oh…” Your face grows dark and slightly fearful at the suggestion. "You're speaking on sins of the flesh..." You say in a low tone.
Lucifer's grin falters slightly as he realizes he's touched a nerve. "I apologize if I've offended you," He says quickly, his tone sincere.
"Oh, no!" You hold your hands up between the two of you. "I'm not offended... I just..." You look away, embarrassed. "That's.... that's why you fell from grace... isn't it?"
Lucifer's expression softens as he sees the conflict in your eyes. "Why would you think that," He asks gently. "My falling from grace had more to do with pride and disobedience than it did with sex." He leans closer, his eyes pleading as he reaches a hand across the table.
"It's what we're taught," you answer truthfully. "We younger seraphim are taught the story of your fall. Of how you committed sins of the flesh and we're cast out of heaven for it..."
Lucifer's expression turns grim as you recount what you've been taught. "That is a simplified version of the story," He says softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "Yes, I was cast out of heaven, but not because of sex."
"Then... Why is it such a blacklisted subject?" You question. "We're not even allowed to ask about it..."
The faint smile returns to Lucifer's lips. "Oh, my dear, you have so many questions." He winks playfully at you. "But in all seriousness, sex outside of marriage is seen as a sinful desire in the eyes of heaven."
"But it's not evil?" You ask.
Lucifer chuckles softly at your question. "Of course not," he says, his voice smooth and soothing. "Desire is a natural part of being alive and sex can feel… well… wonderful. It's supposed to feel like being in the presence of God."
“Is it?” You ask, genuinely curious.
Lucifer shrugs. “Pretty close. I mean, you remember when I helped you out when you first got your tail?”
You nod, slightly pink at the memory.
“It's like that, only a little more. Like… that's the preamble to it.” He leans closer to you, locking eyes. "But like all things, it must be used responsibly and with control."
"And you said you've done it for that reason before?" You ask, leaning forward as well.
Lucifer smirks at your interest, his tone low and intimate as he responds. "Yes, I have," he says, his voice dripping with temptation. "But only with those who I love and trust fully."
"Would... would you..." You blush, trying to get the question out.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your question. "Would I what?" he asks with a chuckle, his voice curious. Your cute expression makes him smile.
"Would you... Show me?" You ask, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.
You may as well have pulled all the air from Lucifer's lungs. His eyes widen in surprise. "You... you want me to...?" he stutters, in a bit of shock. Suddenly the images and desires he'd been trying to keep locked away were flooding his brain.
You, lying there in his bed, moaning for him, calling out his name, begging for more. The pleasure he could give you as he showed you just how his sex could feel, of real lovemaking. The blush that covered his face went all the way to Lucifer's ears.
"If... if the idea is off-putting I won't make you. I guess I could always ask someone else to..." Your words trail off. You’re beginning to pull your hands away from him at the misunderstanding, thinking he was rejecting you. Your sadness made plain in the gesture.
"No! No, no dear," he quickly says, taking hold of your wrists again, stopping them retreating. "It's just... I wasn't expecting that request. Especially from someone as sweet and innocent as you..."
Your eyes widen excitedly. "So... you will?" You ask.
Lucifer looks down at the pure hope in your eyes, and it causes his own to soften. A smile forms on his lips. "Of course..." he says finally, his voice but a whisper. "I'll show you."
"Thank you!" You say with a burst of excitement, throwing your arms in the air before hugging Lucifer tightly over your small cafe table.
The sudden burst of energy took him by surprise, and he couldn't help but laugh at the excitement that radiated off of you. "Careful dear, the food!" He teased as he patted your back lightly.
You giggle shyly. "Oh my goodness! yes, I'm so sorry!" You cover your face with your hands and he can't help but find it cute that you're more embarrassed about this than asking him to be your first.
And then it truly hits him, what he's just agreed to… Lucifer gulps at the realization. He had just agreed to take your virginity. He was suddenly so incredibly nervous, but why? He wasn't inexperienced in these matters, though it had been quite some time since his last encounter, what with Lilith being missing for seven years and their relationship not being on the best terms before then either. But on the other hand...
The softness in his eyes hardened, replaced by a lustful hunger. The idea of you willingly giving him something so precious, wanting it to be him. The idea made him crave for you more, a feeling he didn't realize he held quite so strongly.
"So when can we start?" You ask excitedly, breaking him out of his thoughts.
He let out a throaty laugh at your excitement, "Impatient, aren't we?" His eyes twinkled at the corners, teasing. "Let's finish our food first at least.”
Once you had both finished your pastries, Lucifer took you by your hand, leading you on a short walk back to the willow tree the two of you always met at. He sat down with his back pressed against the trunk while you sat between his crossed legs. His arms easily encircled your waist, pulling your back against his chest. Before long you turn to face him, a devious look in your eyes.
Lucifer's eyes narrow in response to your look, curious smile playing on his lips. He leans in and whispers, "And what is that look for?”
"I want to try something..." You say with a sudden burst of confidence.
The curiosity burns brighter in Lucifer's eyes at your sudden forwardness. He raises an eyebrow, "Oh? And what would that be?" His voice a low, seductive purr, as he traces the tip of his nose against your neck.
"You know how you brought up helping me with my tail?" You ask, and the memory floods back to him of how he attempted to desensitize you to the feeling of your tail being touched. How arousing it was to watch you squirm and get excited by those new sensations. Yes, he definitely remembers. He recalls the rush of pleasure and annoyance as he inadvertently teased you, while trying to control his growing desire.
“Yes, what about it?" Lucifer smirks, leaning fully against the tree, his knees wider.
"I want to try." You say flatly, holding your hands out.
Lucifer's eyes widen with something akin to surprise, and he pauses for a moment. "You want... to touch my tail?" he asks before he takes your hands in his, holding them close while he looks you over carefully.
You nod. "I think it's time I got my revenge." You say with a playful smile. “Especially if it's a preamble to the…” you blush, “-to the next part.”
Lucifer's eyes widen, and he can't help but let out a husky laugh at your boldness. He's fairly confident that it won't go how you think it will, but the devil had to give you credit for just how tempting you were making this. His desire sparks bright, feeling his body react to your proposition. A mischievous gleam appears in Lucifer's eyes. "Well then, I suppose I can't refuse." he summons it, letting it flick a moment before it settles on your lap, allowing you to touch it. "I'm all yours." He purrs.
With a blush and an excited, wide eyed look, you gently reach down and touch his tail with two fingers.
It's soft. Not fuzzy exactly, as it has no fur or anything, but soft like a person's face feels with peach fuzz. It's also warm, which is nice. You begin to rub the two fingers back and forth, just enjoying the sensation.
Lucifer's eyes brighten with excitement, watching as you reach down to gently grasp his tail. It feels strange to have something other than himself touching it, an alien sensation but also comforting and warm. A small purr escapes his lips, a pleasant shock going through his spine as you touch him.
With such a positive response you decide to push further, this time wrapping your fingers around it before slowly sliding your hand down to the tip, twirling it around your digits.
Lucifer's breath hitches, a shiver running down his spine as you slowly slip your hand down the length of his tail. His eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensations you're providing. He can feel himself responding to your actions, unable to help himself. "That feels wonderful…" He sighs, his eyes flick to yours, his mouth parting slightly as he watches your movements.
You begin to grow more bold, your fingers trailing up and down the length of his tail, almost tickling it. Lucifer gasps, the unexpected sensation making him squirm. It's not uncomfortable, but he's never experienced it before and he finds himself breathless. Then while he's distracted with that hand you sneak your other hand to the base of his tail. Just as he's lulled into a sense of security, you snatch it in a firm grip. His breath hitches, tail twitching slightly at the unexpected pressure. His eyes fly open, locking onto yours.
Your look is truly devilish. If he didn't know for a fact there was an angel under that disguise, he'd have sworn you really were a succubus by the way you're handling him. You begin to massage the base of his tail, remembering just how overstimulating it could feel, wanting to watch him fall apart like you did, to see him vulnerable.
The devilish expression on your face makes his heart skip a beat. The way you handle him, with confidence and sensuality, is mesmerizing. He watches as you begin to massage the base of his tail, a low moan escaping as pleasure overwhelms him. "I... ah," Lucifer's breath hitches, fingers gripping onto the grass beneath him as he releases a slow, deep groan. He watches as your hand moves along the tail, his eyes growing darker with desire, pupils dilating.
Lucifer lets out a low, deep moan as your hands continue to massage him. It feels incredible, the pleasure building up and spreading throughout his body. He's unable to hold back a yip, his breath hitching with each movement of your hand against the sensitive skin of his tail.
Lucifer's eyes close for a moment, his body shuddering at the pleasure coursing through him. He tries to resist reacting, his hands clenching into fists as he fights back the urge to moan again. "This... ah... Sweetheart-," Lucifer tries to fight the pleasure your hands provide, but it's almost impossible. He grips the grass beneath him, his breath growing short as he fights to maintain his composure. The way you touch him, it's almost too much.
"Your tail is so soft... and warm..." You sigh as you continue to caress and squeeze it.
Lucifer lets out a deep, shuddering breath at your touch. "It is," he replies, voice low and strained. The pleasure of your touch is overwhelming, his resistance crumbling as he moans quietly. "It's... ah..." His tail twitches eagerly under your touch, pressing against your hand.
"Do you like it when I do this?" You ask, trailing your hand down the length of his tail.
Lucifer's eyes flutter shut at your touch, a quiet moan escaping him. "Yes... yes," he replies, voice trembling with pleasure. His tail twitches and writhes under your touch, seeking more of the pleasurable sensations you provide. "I... ah…”
"I want to try something... okay?" You say softly.
Lucifer's breath hitches as he looks at you, his tail quivering with excitement. "What... what is it?" he asks breathlessly, already eager to experience whatever you have in mind. He trusts you, and his desire for you overrides any caution he might have.
"Do you want me to tell you, or surprise you?" you ask with a glint in your eye.
Lucifer's eyes widen in anticipation, his breath coming in short gasps. "Surprise me," he replies, eager to see what pleasures you have in store for him. He trusts you, and the thrill of surrendering control to you is exhilarating for him.
"Okay," you nod, admittedly excited. "Then close your eyes.”
Lucifer obeys without hesitation, closing his eyes and tilting his head back slightly. He trusts you completely, and the excitement of not knowing what's coming next is making his heart race with desire.
You gingerly pick up his tail and press your lips to it.
Lucifer gasps in shock and pleasure as your lips touch his tail. He never expected this, but the sensation is unexpectedly erotic for him. His tail twitches involuntarily, attempting to seek more of your touch as he moans softly. "D... did you just...?”
Instead of answering you begin to trail your lips down his tail until you get to the very end, relishing in the way that his body is shivering at your touch.
Lucifer can't help but tremble as you make your way down, feeling how soft it felt on the sensitive skin of your lips. It's a strange yet pleasurable sensation, unlike anything he's experienced before. He gasps and whimpers softly, his body shivering with pleasure as his cheeks redden more and more. "Y-you're...aa-ah…”
You trail your lips back up about a foot from the tip only to stick out your tongue and lick all the way back down to the end, popping the tip onto your mouth and sucking on it while making direct eye contact.
Lucifer's breath hitches, and he can't help but let out a needy moan as you take his tail into your mouth. His eyes are darkened with lust and desire, a fire burning in his gaze that threatens to consume him. The sudden, unexpected flick of your tongue against the sensitive skin of his tail sends Lucifer's mind reeling in pleasure. His breath hitches, and he can't help but let out more needy sounds for you. His body jolts, and he involuntarily grabs a hold of your thighs, trying to steady himself.
Lucifer's grip tightens on your thighs as he watches you twirl his tail around your tongue, making it glisten with your saliva. His breath is coming out in ragged gasps, and his eyes are glued to your mouth as you pleasure him, and that's all he’s able to take.
"I can't stand it anymore," Lucifer growls, leaping at you and pinning you down on the ground, his body hovering over yours. His eyes are dark and hungry, and he can't wait any longer. He needs you now.
You gasp as his hands clench the grass on either side of your head. You look up at him with a doe eyed expression, nodding, excited, ready.
Without another word, Lucifer smiles, snapping open a portal and scooping you into his arms.
The next part is basically nine-thousand words of just smut. So be prepared. Lol.
Taglist: @honestlyshamelesskid
#lucifer morningstar#lucifer smut#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#lucifer x you#lucifer x reader#fallen angel#angel!reader#writing#fan fiction#fanfiction#fanfic#lemon#smut#lime#teasing#buildup#part 2#fallen#minors dni#minors do not interact#mine
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▵▿— Sorcery Class
Pairing: Shu Yamino x fem! Reader
Category: Suggestive, hints of the saxophone dance at the end
Warning: Sussy sussy you straddling Shu, sussy sussy Shu giving you hickeys, just sussy sussy
Summary: Shu was teaching you about sorcery and potions but when you were starting to doze off, he thought of a way to help you stay focused.
A/N: Hardest part was trying to figure out what question about sorcery I can put in lol
no actually the hardest part was pressing that “post” button and showing this to the world 💀
“Alright, show me what you’ve been practising on.”
You sat on the tatami mat opposite Shu in his sorcery room. You had always been captivated by his ability to use sorcery and had been practically begging him to teach you some. For the past few weeks, you had been practising some simple sorcery skills that Shu had taught you, and today he wanted to see your progress.
With a quick circular movement of your wrist and a flash of flames, you summoned a Shikigami. The thin sheet of paper the shape of a doll was clamped between the two fingers you held out. “How’s that?” Shu gave you a smug smile. “It seems that you’ve perfectly mastered summoning Shikigamis.” You beamed happily at your achievements. “So what will you teach me next?” “How about I teach you how to make some basic potions?”
So here you are, stuck in his room, trying not to fall asleep as Shu rants on and on about the chemical properties of each potion. You were at first excited to earn about this, but the way Shu was explaining everything for hours on end like a speaking encyclopedia was not really enticing. Your eyes started feeling heavy as you leaned your cheek against your palm. You were starting to give into your tiredness when you felt your chin getting lifted up. Your eyes darted open to see Shu leaning close to your face. “Hey… are you sleeping during my class? Weren’t you the one all hyped up about me teaching you sorcery?” You felt your cheeks heat up due to the close proximity. And by “close proximity” I mean close enough for you to count his long onyx-coloured lashes.
You tried to look anywhere but his face as you tried to reason your way out of this. “Sorry… I just didn’t get enough sleep last night… And you had been talking for a long time now…” Shu looked at you with his amethyst eyes. “Well, whatever the case is, I’ll be testing you on this tomorrow, so I’d recommend you stay focused… Or if you can’t stay focused on your own… I can make you pay attention.”
That offer caught you unprepared. You turned your head to face him, eyes staring at each other. What did he mean by “I can make you pay attention”? You didn’t really know, but if it would help you get these chemical properties of the potions into your brain, it was worth a try.
…
You had never thought you’d experience straddling Shu’s lap as he teaches you sorcery, but here you are. Every time Shu sensed that you were starting to space out, he’d give you a kiss on the neck or shoulder, leaving you all flustered. To think Shu would be able to do something like this… What in the world did Vox teach him?
Before long, it was already nighttime.
“Alright let me ask you one final question before we take a break. Why do we need to use special flames with sorcery embedded in them instead of normal flames when making potions?”
“Because the special flames can work the effect of the ingredients?”
Then, without warning, Shu pressed his lips on your shoulder. And you were biting your lip to suppress that embarrassing noise in your throat threatening to come out as Shu worked wonders on your shoulder. By the time he lifted his head up, your shoulder was covered with little red spots. “Good girl, you did so well focusing in my class.” Shu gently pushed you backwards, till your back was pressed against the tatami mat and Shu was above, pinning you down as his knees were stationed between your legs. Shu bumped his knee towards you, earning a small whimper from you.
As he looked down at you with a mischievous smile on a face and lust in his eyes, he spoke. “Now that class is over, how about we take a break…?”
#riyugu writing#yorutenshi riyugu#nijisanjien#nijisanjien x reader#luxiem#luxiem x reader#nijisanji#nijisanji x reader#shu yamino x reader#shu yamino
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my bound little loverboy
. jouno - bsd
✎ a moon's production...
✎ 1,022 words...
✎ dom!afab reader...
✎ nsfw...
There Jouno lay, his hands tied to the headboard of the bed with a satin red ribbon, his clothes thrown aside to who knows where. Cold air hits his anticipating body, and he shivers as goosebumps begin to adorn his pale and porcelain-like skin. He’s waiting for you to come back into the bedroom- you've been teasing him this entire time.
His ears are on high alert from the moment the door opens, and the sound of your footsteps approaching him makes his body twitch involuntarily in anticipation.
“There’s my pretty little darling, all dolled up and waiting for me.” You cooed, and Jouno flinched and took in a sharp, shocked inhale as he felt your warm finger just barely trace his arm, each hair on his body standing up.
“Do you like the feel of the ribbon? I made sure it was the softest one available,” You lean down and whisper into his ear, the feel of worth warm breath against him makes him shudder and hold back a soft whimper. His body is awfully sensitive, and you were about to take advantage of that.
“I-It’s fine,” He said in breathless voice, trying his best to not squirm under the feel of your gaze, “Just get on with whatever you planned on doing-” He was cut off by his own yelp as your warm hands suddenly slid down and held onto his waist.
“Watch your tongue, pretty boy. I didn’t come here to be a little brat-tamer,” Your hands dug into his cold skin, causing him to squirm slightly, not used to your warmth just yet. “I thought we already got over that stage earlier, no?”
“I’m- hngh..” He trailed off, his head slowly rolling back as his muscles clenched the moment you moved your head away from his and down to his lower stomach. You pressed a kiss awfully close to his sex.
“Save the apologies for later, doll.” You said, lathering his stomach in gentle butterfly kisses as your hands trailed down to his hips, rubbing circles on both of his hip dips. “You’ve been prepared for far too long, haven’t you?”
“I-is it already time?” He asked softly, his legs shifted as he bit his lip to suppress a whine at the thought.
“Only if you’re ready. Are you ready?” He nodded slowly at your words, trying to suppress his clear excitement from you.
To which you only grinned before you fixed your position so you were kneeling on the bed, just above him. One leg on each side of his hips, your own sex just above his. He felt your warmth only barely above his tip, and he couldn’t hold back a moan at the erotic heat from them almost touching.
“I haven’t even started yet love, but you’re already so riled up... sensitive, aren’t you?” You cooed to him as he only let out a whimper in response.
“Please,” He whined in a breathless yet desperate tone, “I-I can’t-”
“I know,” You murmured gently, “I’m starting. Don’t worry,” Before you gently lowered your hips, and by the time you’d barely entered his tip inside of you, he’d already begun to whine.
“W-wait- ahhnn..! P-please,” He babbled mindlessly, his hands gripping onto the red ribbon that bound him tight. You grinned before leaning down, causing him to emit another whine before you pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.
“You’re not even completely inside me yet, yet you're already becoming so ruined? How cute,” You teased, your nails digging into his hips as you forced yourself further down on him, making him moan and making his back involuntarily arch.
“W-wait- Uhnn! Too m-much! Nghh..?!” He could barely think straight as he’d already quickly lost himself, his eyes rolling back from behind his shut eyelids. “Ple- uhngh!- pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-” He didn’t even know what he was pleading for anymore. He just needed something!
“Almost there,” You’d reassure gently as you sat back up straight, your grip on his hip becoming so tight, you were sure it'd bruise his lovely skin. “You can give me more,” You mumbled before slightly readjusting yourself, until you swiftly let yourself fully slip around his length, making him moan awfully loud. “You can give me all of you.”
At this point, he was practically digging holes into the ropes that bound him to the bed, his eyes rolling back behind his permanently shut eyelids, mewling at the feeling, drool dripping from his lips down to his neck or seeping into his hair. He babbled mindlessly, his body twitching and reactive to any small touch or warmth.
“So lovely,” You cooed as you took in the sight below you, and it only spurred you into desiring more of it. Lifting yourself up, making him whimper, before you fell right back down onto him, causing him to emit a long mewl again. You began to repeat the action, enjoying all the noises your pretty boy made under you.
“P-please- ahn! W-wanna- Hnghh!” Small tears built up under his lashes from the pleasurable feeling as he tried to beg, “W-wanna touch you, p-please!”
You only smiled, leaning down to his face and pressing a kiss to his jaw, “Only ‘cause you asked so nicely,” You mumured before moving your hands to untie the red cloth around his hands. The moment they were free, he almost immediately intertwined them with yous, babbling out ‘thank you’s.
You held his hands back as you continued lifting yourself up and then right back down onto him, each slap of colliding skin forcing a moan and whimper from his throat.
“G-gonna c-cum- hic!” He whined, holding your hands tighter as his muscles tensed up and his tears began to spill out from behind his white eyelashed and down his cheeks.
Kissing away his tears, leaving a salty taste on your lips, you spoke softly and fondly into his ear, “Go ahead, my love.”
Not even five seconds later, he let out a high pitched moan before he released inside of you, causing you to let out a small moan of your own.
“You did so well for me, pretty boy.”
#✎ bsd#✎ moon writes...#✎ reqs. open#✎ bsd jouno#✎ sub bsd#sub bsd#sub bungou stray dogs#sub jouno#jouno x reader#bsd smut#dom reader#afab reader#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs smut#bungou stray dogs
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𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝟐
➯ Y/N DOESN’T FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS AND HARRY IS WORRIED ABOUT THEIR CONNECTION.
✰ demon!harry no warnings.
𝑤𝑐 8.6k
ッ vanilla lime masterlist
Y/N spends the weekend suppressing her urge to search for information on demons. Not only because it will further confirm that they exist (and/or that her mental health is rapidly declining) but also because she can’t get Harry’s parting words out of her head:
I’ll know if you break your promise.
Y/N still doesn't know how and is unsure if finding out will make things better or worse. But if he really does possess some sort of omniscience then what was to say he wouldn’t know of her anxious probing? It was safer not to test that theory, she thinks. So why were her fingers itching so severely?
From the moment she wakes up, ridiculously early thanks to Harry’s two p.m. bedtime, there is nothing else she can think about. At first, she carries on as normal, finding out once again that she is still out of her favourite cereal and immediately shoving her shoes on angrily; making the trip to her local shop just to buy a box of Frosted Wheats. Although she doesn’t spend longer than fifteen minutes outside her house, it is the most paranoid journey of her life. Every corner seems darker, and every person feels suspicious. Ever since finding out demons are roaming around, previous day-to-day activities feel somewhat feeble to Y/N, like life itself is even more insignificant than she already thinks it is. She knows dwelling on that for too long is never a grand idea, but it is difficult not to when she feels so exposed and defenceless. Because who ever prepares to deal with demons? There’s no crash course on what to do if you run into one, and she already has! Not to mention, she’s sure her experience was an abnormal one and she should probably be sending a thankful prayer to someone.
So Y/N makes her way home in a far from relaxed manner, trying to avoid suspicion and breathes a sigh of relief through her nose once she has her first mouthful of cereal. She continues to plod along mindlessly following her routine of breakfast, showering, and cleaning; finding solace in the music she puts on to drown out her thoughts. Though they soon catch up with her whilst she is making her bed; laptop glaring at her from across the room, taunting her to open it.
So she does. She stomps over to it and wastes no time in turning it on and typing demons into the search bar. There, she thinks, not such a big deal anymore, is it? The results load instantaneously and are just as disappointing as she knew they would be. Music videos and definitions clog up her screen, and Y/N nearly closes the tab immediately, feeling silly at the sliver of hope she’d had—but a picture catches her off guard. Without overthinking it, she clicks on the image results and feels an intense, internal discomfort at the sight of the different depictions, all haunted and pained. They’re blurry around the edges, painted with murky colours—creatures with morphing faces and sharp teeth looming over helpless figures, feeding off of their discontent, draining their life force, ending their existence. Y/N attempts to picture Harry as one of these beasts and falls short. He’d looked so human. Acted so human—despite the obvious sorcery he possessed. She glances at her ankle, the bruise and the swelling still ever present but the pain nonexistent. He couldn’t be whatever those photos try to depict. He took her pain away; he didn’t desire it. But why is she trying so hard to make him innocent? He told her he was a killer, and that he could kill her if he wanted to. That was far from the definition of innocence.
Y/N groans and wipes her hands down her face, “What the fuck are you doing?” She mutters to herself, slamming the laptop shut and pulling her phone from her back pocket, opening her messages to type one to her friend Sarah.
are you free for drinks later?
She sincerely hopes she is.
Harry has never had a problem that he couldn’t fix. Ever since he could remember, things just seemed to go his way. As a child, he reaped the benefits of being the younger sibling, his parents wrapping him up in the softest of proverbial cotton wool which is something his sister, Gemma, never fails to hold against him. She’s constantly going on about how Mum and Dad handed everything to you on a plate. Personally, Harry doesn’t think that is his fault, but he understands her frustrations—he never needed to worry about a single thing.
That was until he hit puberty—an intense transition for the best of people but something catastrophically awful for a demon—and experienced every emotion tenfold. He started acting out, unnecessarily picking on Gemma, verbally hitting where it hurt and talking to his parents with an acidic tone. He was angry all the time, for no apparent reason, which made him even angrier until he’d built up a reputation for it. Despite popular belief, not all demons are the very definition of evil itself and where Harry grew up (on a small chunk of Earth that Lucifer had assigned demons to centuries ago, that no one knew existed), he was an anomaly for his behaviour. He was steered clear of, whispered about and gawked at for years as he shrunk further and further into himself until he was no more than an irate vessel.
Typically, Harry wouldn’t act on his feelings, letting them stew and bubble underneath the surface usually until he had sex (with one of the small handful of men and women that weren’t deterred by his personality, but allured) or found something to punch—which was more often than not a wall. But after years of hating his life and experiencing everyone else hate it too, he’d had enough.
He had been taking a walk after successfully upsetting his family for the umpteenth time, trying not to break his knuckles, when he’d heard jeers clearly aimed at him. It’s the resident saddo! Come to kill the mood, have you? He ignored them as if they’d bounced off him, which they never did and never had done, but he carried on walking because that’s what he always did. And he was doing so well, even tuning some of it out until he heard words that no one had ever said to him before. Why don’t you just kill yourself? dripping in venom, and that caused Harry to stop—dead in his tracks as he tried to process what he’d just heard. But no amount of time would have changed his mind right then and there as he turned around and stormed over to the voice with a purpose he’d never quite felt before. He faintly recognised his taunter from school, (knowing he was a bully then, and a bully now) and he felt like what he was about to do had been deserved for quite a while as he swung his arm back. The look of panic on the guy’s face was rewarding in more ways than one, but Harry thinks wiping the look away as his fist collides with his nose was a much better feeling.
That was the first time he’d ever hit someone, and he probably had gone a bit overboard, as he sat down in front of his crying mother with bloodied—but not broken—knuckles. “You nearly k-killed him, Harry,” she says through quiet sobs. She had tried so hard her entire life to prove demons weren’t all bad and he’d embarrassed her, scared her and tainted her reputation (even more so than he already did just by existing) all in one day.
“He deserved it, Mum. I’m sorry but it’s the truth.” Harry picks at the blood underneath his nails.
His father clears his throat from across the room, as he stands with his hands braced on the back of a dining chair. “Son, you’re nineteen. You’ve only got a few years until you stop growing and remain the person you are forever,” he walks over to perch on the arm of the chair his mother was sitting in, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Your mother and I have been talking, and we’ve decided… that you will go and live among the humans, to build yourself a life away from here where you are so unhappy so that hopefully you can turn your life around before it’s too late.” The words wind Harry as he sits there shocked, watching as more tears fall down his mother’s face and looking towards the doorway when he notices Gemma is standing there, despair apparent on her own face. And he suddenly wishes he could take back every bad word he has ever said as she looks at him with an expression only someone with unconditional love for a person could have. He hopes she understands as he mirrors her face on his own, a silent communication of I’m sorry. I love you.
“Harry—” His mother starts but he’s on his feet, hands shaky as he nods, suddenly recognising what was happening.
“Okay,” he says. “When do I go?”
“Tomorrow morning,” his father says. “and Harry, if you’re going to hurt people that deserve it, at least make it worth your while.”
And Harry did (dabbling in other things here and there but always going back to what he knew best). He found his purpose in culling his new home from demons and humans alike much worse than the one who told him to kill himself, and Harry often laughs at how mild that now seems, in comparison to what he does—a violence that his mother will never accept, one his father acknowledges and his sister ignores.
The transition to human-inhabited Earth was much smoother than Harry had anticipated. He chose to go to northern England, where his parents had picked their accents from and found a quaint flat—albeit using his parents’ money but he hadn’t taken advantage of his mind compulsion which had felt wrong to do so early on. He worked hard, learning how to make himself available for summonings; building up his repertoire, honing the skills that made him desirable and collecting souls in return.
And he’d been going nearly eighty years now (his physical age ceasing once he turned twenty-five) and managing to find his own sort of peace of mind like his parents’ hoped, still facing no problems he couldn’t overcome.
Until Y/N.
He knows she’s the reason he feels a very sudden urge to get to the bar that’s closest to her house. It’s a deep-rooted feeling of dread that makes him gasp and his skin prickle, an unfamiliar feeling that he immediately knows he hates. And he wishes he could ignore it, pretend it is a fluke and everything is fine and run himself a nice bath—but instead he’s pulling on shoes and closing his eyes, mapping out the journey from his house to Y/N’s and then the bar before he’s evaporating and reappearing in the alleyway a jog away from the entrance. The sense of unease is crushingly strong now and Harry swears he can feel a weight on his lungs; he thinks this must be what panic is like, but he’s never known it to be so unbearable.
He wastes no time, marching into the bar as inconspicuously as a man like himself could and scanning the room. She sticks out to him straight away; sat at a table across from a woman with an easy smile on her face and a half-empty glass in her hand. Harry furrows his brows, wondering what the false alarm was all about; she’s happy (which is something he’s not seen yet) but the pounding in his chest hasn’t stopped—and he’s ready to turn around, thinking about that bath he should be in right now when out of the corner of his eyes sees someone saunter over to their table. There’s a darkness surrounding him that only Harry can see and suddenly the dread disappears—Harry breathes a sigh of relief once he knows it’s nothing he can’t handle and relaxes against the wall. But then Y/N is standing up from her chair and pointing an antagonising finger towards the demon which has Harry tuning into her voice and the worry rising once again; he is on his way to getting emotional whiplash.
“I asked you to leave us alone.” She snaps and Harry rolls his eyes muttering a fuck’s sake under his breath, but staying put, giving her the chance to not go too far. The demon smiles and despite Harry only being able to see the side of his face, he knows it’s sickening.
“Thought you pretty girls might have changed your minds.” He steps closer to Y/N and she tries to take a larger one back but her chair is in the way so she stays put. Just fucking sit down, Harry thinks, but it’s safe to assume she’s refusing to back down.
“Well we haven’t, thank you, so kindly fuck off.” This has Harry pushing away from the wall and slowly weaving his way towards her, endeavouring to stay calm. As he expected, the demon loses his attempt at charm, a snarl curling onto his lips as his hand shoots out to grab Y/N’s wrist. She gasps and tries to pull away but he doesn’t let go and the woman Y/N is with is standing up, ready to intervene but Harry gets there first.
“There you are. Been looking everywhere, thought you’d left without me,” Harry tries to smile at Y/N, attempting to communicate with his eyes to play along before his gaze hardens as he looks down at the demon. “Let go of her.” He swiftly does but Harry notices the look of recognition pass between them as they simultaneously think: I know what you are. “When someone tells you no, they mean no,” he wastes no more time on him, turning back to Y/N, “You two still want me to take you home?”
Y/N misses a beat, slightly tipsy Harry realises, before she catches on, “Oh yeah, yes please, thanks.” Grabbing her bag from the back of her chair and pushing past the demon who is still standing too close for comfort—her friend hastily following along wordlessly. “Fucking creep,” Y/N mutters under her breath but Harry grabs her arm quickly as they make their way out.
“He can still hear you,” he warns and she shrugs him off with a sigh.
“Oops,” she deadpans, speeding up so she can walk in front of Harry and out of the door.
He introduces himself once they’re outside, turning to the woman with his hand outstretched. “Hi, I’m Harry. Sorry to cut your night short.”
She accepts his handshake with a small smile, “That’s okay. He was really gross. I’m Sarah—”
“It’s not okay. Are you following me?” Y/N cuts in, hands on hips.
Harry sighs, “No, I’m not following you, it was a coincidence. I’m sorry for intervening but I needed to talk to you anyway so—”
“So what? You think it’s okay to exert your weird powers and make us leave? I was handling it just fine.”
“Uhh, Y/N, I’m going to phone Mitch,” Sarah rushes out, gesturing with her phone awkwardly as she walks out of earshot.
Harry frowns at Y/N, observing the way she reaches out for support from the wall. “Don’t look at me like that,” she snaps.
“What the fuck were you thinking? What did I say yesterday, for fuck’s sake?” He crosses his arms and his biceps strain against the short sleeves of his black t-shirt.
“About what?” She scoffs before it clicks, “Wait, was he—That was a demon?” Her eyes widen and her brows crease. Harry watches her as the realisation hits and she covers her mouth with her hand, the other still bracing against the wall. “Is he going to kill me? Oh God, what is happening?” she whispers. Harry’s gaze softens a bit as she starts to panic.
He takes a step towards her, “Y/N, look at me,” her eyes flit up to his, “He’s not going to kill you, okay? Won’t let that happen… Are you okay?” He asks.
She shakes her head, “Not really,” as she slides down the brick wall. “Is that why you said he could still hear me when I called him a creep?” Harry nods. She seems to ponder for a moment, eyes unfocused and Harry glances at Sarah who’s still on the phone. Y/N gasps, “Is that why the light around him was all murky?”
Harry snaps his head back towards Y/N, “What? You could see that?”
She nods, “Is that bad?”
Harry lets out a humourless laugh, “It’s not exactly… good. Ah fuck, I’ve been trying to ignore this shit,” he sighs, rubbing his hands down his face and scratching at his jaw.
“Ignore what shit? Start telling me stuff,” she huffs.
“Careful...” he looks at her, shaking his head, “but I suppose I’ll tell you something.” She sits up slightly, intrigued and pleasantly surprised that he complied. “I think I can sense when you’re in danger… That’s why I was here tonight. And when you were at work and I came to get you, I could sense that you were anxious. I think you were on the verge of a panic attack.”
“Are you being serious?” She was hardly expecting that.
“No, I’m making all of this up, actually,” he lowers his head in mock surrender.
“Oh fuck off, Harry, that’s not funny,” Y/N stands up from the wall to get a closer look at him. “You really could be making it all up for a laugh. Could’ve drugged me and pretended you could teleport, or whatever,” she squints at him, analysing his face and scowling at him when his lip curls. “Why have I been so willingly believing you?” As soon as she asks the question, he leans down to her height and she watches his eyes cloud over with swirls as if someone has spilled a pot of black paint right into his waterline.
“Think these are contacts?” He asks, smirk ever-present. Right. She’d forgotten about that.
“Probably not,” she grumbles.
“What was that?”
“No! They’re not contacts.” He grins and leans back, eyes clear once again.
“You back to believing me then, Bambi?” She rolls her eyes but nods, “Because trust me, there are much better things for me to be doing than pulling an elaborate prank on a human—”
“Y/N!” Sarah calls as she walks back over. She flinches slightly at the abrupt sound of her voice. “Mitch is going to be here soon, do you want a lift?”
“Uh—”
“That’s okay, I’ll take her home. We’ll still need to clear some stuff up,” Harry answers.
“Are you sure?” Sarah directs towards Y/N, and Harry realises that she has every right to be suspicious; having briefly witnessed an argument—not the most stellar introduction.
“Oh yeah, yeah I’m sure. I… I trust him,” Harry feels a little zap of warmth go through him at her confession. It was hard for her to say, made obvious by the way she won’t look at him, and he represses a smile.
“I really am sorry about earlier, Sarah. Isn’t my preferred way of introducing myself, I’ll admit.” Harry feels Y/N look at him then but his eyes stay on Sarah, who gives him a smile.
“That’s okay, I’ve seen worse, honestly. How did you two meet? Y/N hasn’t mentioned you.” She gives a pointed look to Y/N who glares back at her.
“Oh, I wouldn’t have expected her to,” he smiles. “We just started working together. Safe to say we butt heads sometimes,” he looks at Y/N and only grins wider at her scowl. “Just needed to ask some questions about work and I can’t log into the system to input some data, s’all.”
“That sounds like a fun Saturday night!” Sarah laughs slightly, enjoying the look of dissatisfaction on Y/N’s face, just as Mitch pulls up beside them. Y/N gives him a small wave which he returns with a nod. “Text me, okay?”
Y/N nods, “Yeah, I will,” as Sarah gets in the car. “Shouldn’t trust you. You’re a world-class liar,” she mutters under her breath, a fake smile plastered on her face as she waves the car off.
“You do trust me though,” he nudges her, far too amused for her liking. “I’m honoured, Bambi, to be bestowed with such a precious thing.” He places a hand over his heart and she flips him off, pivoting on her heel and walking in most likely the wrong direction to her home. “Oi!” He calls, “not wise to be on your own with a demon on the loose.” This stops her, words intended to be teasing hitting harder than either of them thought they would.
She lets herself think, really think, about it for a few seconds. What could have happened? “Harry?” She breathes, back still turned. “Was he really going to hurt me?” He’s in front of her in an instant; literally appearing, a pinch between his brows and lips downturned.
“I don’t know what he wanted to do and I don’t want to think about it, okay? Neither should you.” His tone is harsher than he means it to be and he feels like an asshole when her eyes well up, glimpsing up at him with a look reminiscent of the first time he saw her. He’s reminded of the alcohol in her system when her lip wobbles—feeling like he’s witnessed enough of her anger to know she’d prefer to showcase scowling over crying—and he’s trying to stay composed. “Don’t cry, little thing,” he sighs, “I forget how delicate you are,” Harry brings a tentative hand up to her bare shoulder and cringes at the ice-cold skin that greets him. “You’re freezing,” he whispers before he strokes down her arm slowly and closes his eyes, concentrating as warmth trails out of his fingertips and into her skin.
Y/N gasps as her body fills with heat; she feels as though she’s stepped into a log cabin with a roaring fireplace, or snuggled under a mountain of blankets, or submerged herself in a deep bath. Her eyes flutter shut, displacing a tear from her waterline, and a loosened breath escapes her mouth; refusing to mention her below-comfortable body temperature feeling silly now with the newfound intense warmth she’s experiencing. Despite the earlier drinks that had poured a pleasant coating along her throat, Y/N’s sure she’s tipsier currently than she had been thirty seconds ago. And when she feels Harry’s thumb wipe the droplet away she very nearly melts into his touch but she blinks her eyes open instead, hoping to clear some of the fog that had conveniently steered her thoughts in a much nicer direction. “I want to go home.”
Harry nods, hand trailing down to meet her own—eyes never straying from hers, still filled with unshed tears. “Hold my hand, yeah? I’ll take you home,” she lets him intertwine their fingers, hers swallowed by his much larger ones. “No one can see us,” he assures. And then they’re gone.
Y/N doesn’t like how nice it feels to hold Harry’s hand. She thinks she must just be touch-starved, but it’s hard to deny that the warmth he emits is addictive. And with the way he’s squeezing her she almost thinks he feels the same way, but he then keeps squeezing and the bones in her fingers are seconds away from shattering. “Ouch!” He looks at her briefly and then back towards her front door, relaxing his hand, but his face is far from tranquil. “What’s wrong?”
“Something’s not right. Stay here.” Y/N feels her heart drop, dozens of possibilities running through her head in a matter of seconds, watching as Harry steps up to her door and wiggles the handle. Still locked. Y/N releases a breath. “Gimme your keys,” Harry sticks his palm up and twitches his fingers impatiently as she rummages around in her bag. “Stay here,” he repeats once she puts them in his hand. “Do you understand me?” His eyes burn through her own as she nods silently. “Say it, Y/N.”
“I understand.” She doesn’t argue. Her eyes flicker around as he enters her home, checking behind her, entirely paranoid. The clothes she’s wearing are suddenly itchy and hot, and her necklace is digging in, and God does Y/N hate waiting. Every second drags on for what feels like an eternity as she stands in front of her door, hands sweaty and grasped together for dear life.
She thinks she hears Harry groan and nearly reaches out for the handle but before she can, he’s swinging the door open looking far more relaxed than he had mere minutes ago. “You can come in. It’s safe. Just my stupid mate, Niall.”
Y/N flinches, “What? There’s someone in there?” Harry nods, resigned.
“Said he tried to go to my house but ended up here. He’s a pain but he’s friendly, come on.” He ushers her with a wave, “Want me to hold your hand?” Y/N glares at him and bats his hand away—his unapologetic grin annoyingly contagious as she averts her eyes and steps past him. Sure enough, there’s a man in her living room sitting on her sofa, who stands up as soon as Y/N enters. He has a sheepish grin on his face as he extends a hand.
“Hi, I’m Niall. Sorry.” He scratches the back of his head.
Y/N is hesitant but accepts the handshake, aware of her clammy hands, “Y/N,” she replies, “Why are you in my house, Niall?” Her heart is beating out of control.
“Not so sure myself, to be honest with you! Swear I was going to Harry’s,” he nods towards Harry who has taken his place next to Y/N.
“You’re a—You’re a demon as well then,” Y/N concludes, but Niall nods anyway.
“I am. Promise I’m nice though, don’t want to cause you any harm,” he holds his hands up and Y/N glances at Harry to find him already looking at her.
“He is, I told you already. Didn’t lie,” Harry encourages.
“This is—I don’t—” she stutters, putting a hand to her forehead. To say she is overwhelmed would be an understatement; the night’s events have yet to be processed but they’re still being piled on.
“I need to talk to Niall, okay?” Harry rests his hand on her back when he notices her shallow breathing. “Let’s calm you down, yeah?” She looks up at him but her eyes are absent and Harry can tell she’s not really in the room anymore, “Okay?” pulls a short nod from her as he guides them to her bedroom. He glances behind him to give Niall a look and he takes a seat on her sofa again.
Y/N stands by her bed and stares at her hands as Harry shuts her door. Her voice is quiet as she calls his name and he faces her immediately, “This is too much,” she whispers, “Why is he in my house?” The huffed laugh she lets out is humourless.
“I’m going to talk to him, figure it out,” Y/N’s hands are jittery, scratching at her arm until the skin starts to sting. “Stop that,” Harry pulls her wrist away gently, thumb on his other hand stroking over the spot as he takes away the pain instantly. “I’ll run you a bath, okay?” She doesn’t object so he walks over to her en-suite and turns the light on. “Come sit,” he pats the toilet seat lid.
As Harry kneels down and turns the tap on he can’t help but sigh, wishing this was his bath he was drawing, getting lost in the swishing of the water as his hand makes little patterns. Y/N has an array bubble bath that he generously pours in, turning the water a pretty lilac. The warmth of the liquid lulls him into a distracted state as his thoughts escalate, about Y/N mainly. About what he’s going to do with her; with their connection. What can he do—when he doesn’t even understand it? He can feel her watching him but he’s so zoned out it doesn’t fully register, not until she gently nudges him with her foot. “Harry, that’s too hot.” He hums in confusion before looking at his red hand and realising he was only running hot water.
“Oh, ‘m sorry.” He turns the cold on. He feels uneasy about letting his guard down—even for a moment—his tired expression clear as day to Y/N. Sweat beads at his forehead as the steam from the water catches up with him and he takes a moment to stand up, coughing slightly as if to diffuse the non-existent tension he’s convinced himself of. Y/N stays where she is, looking up at him with something akin to concern on her equally-as-tired face. She thinks this is the first time she’s felt not even an ounce of anger towards him, not even subconsciously, and she finds herself reaching out. Her hand stops before her brain does, refusing to touch his elbow as she’d thought to. It stays suspended in mid-air before she clears her throat awkwardly.
“Thank you, Harry, I can do it now.” He gives her an absent nod, scratching at his jaw before leaving the bathroom and she exhales shakily, getting to her feet and testing the water with her hand. It’s not her perfect temperature and the tub isn’t full yet but she doesn’t care, as she removes her clothes haphazardly and sinks into the still-running water. Y/N feels her muscles unclench at the sensation of near-molten liquid swimming around her, letting out a tiny involuntary moan that she immediately hopes Harry doesn’t hear.
He does. He stops mid-sentence when it hits his ears and narrows his eyes at Niall when he giggles slightly. “Don’t be gross, Niall,” Harry scolds.
“Me? It caught you off guard, did it not? Almost as if you’re trying to hear her,” he smiles knowingly.
“Stop being childish. I’ve been fucking running around after her for two days. I have to be alert.”
“No wonder your scent is drenched here then.” Suddenly Niall’s eyes light up and he clicks his fingers, “Ah! That must be why I ended up here! It reeks of you, must’ve confused the ol’ brain.”
“Yeah sure, the century-old-very-experienced-never-teleported-to-the-wrong-place-before brain. That makes sense.” Harry huffs, “There’s something going on, man. I dunno what to do.”
Niall guffaws, “Are you asking for my help? No way!” He laughs again, much to Harry’s displeasure.
“This isn’t fucking funny,” he crosses his arms across his chest, voice deadly steady.
“I’m not helping unless you explicitly ask,” Niall’s grinning, completely overjoyed by having the upper hand—a rare occurrence in their friendship.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry’s arms tense.
“Come onnn,” Niall drags out, “Come on, just ask and I’m all ears.”
Harry is reminded of how much he can dislike Niall (which always makes him feel a bit guilty because it’s just Harry being grumpy that causes the dislike and nothing genuinely wrong with Niall) as he sighs and sits down on Y/N’s sofa. Clearing his throat, he starts, “Niall, dearest Niall,” he smiles mordaciously. “Please will you help me?”
Niall claps his hands together, a broad and satisfied grin on his shameless face, “Nothing would make me happier, old friend.”
“I loathe you.”
“Now now, what’s up? Are you having trouble keeping tabs on the sweet-looking human?” He sits next to Harry, turning his body to face him and pulling his ankle over his knee.
“No, of course not,” Niall only smiles further. “She’s an angry little thing,” he admits, debating whether he really should feed him the whole story, before deciding fuck it and recounting his last two days in full.
Niall is sat back in disbelief by the end, but also clearly still amused. “So she was just crying? And that summoned you? Are you getting soft?” He laughs. When Harry’s gaze darkens and his eyes start to turn black, Niall holds his hands up, “Okay, sorry! It’s not funny. What are you gonna do about it?”
“I don’t fucking know!” Harry throws his hands in the air, hair mussed from ruffling it so much. Niall has never seen him so distressed—it’s the first thing that makes him furrow his brows in realisation that the situation is serious. “I hate worrying about her, it’s not natural. I don’t even know her and all of a sudden I can tell when she’s in danger? I can feel it in my stomach, in my bones. It’s fucking torture, Niall.” Harry rubs his hands down his face.
Niall is stumped. Harry’s never really needed his help before, and for it to be about something neither of them has any clue about. It’s worrying for two senior demons to be out of their depth. Unheard of, even. “Why don’t you get to know her then?” he finally comes up with.
Harry looks at him through his hands. “What? How does that help me?”
“Well, maybe you’d be less angry about it if you started to like her,” Niall shrugs.
“That would definitely make things worse. You’re fucking useless!” He stands up.
“Hey, that’s not fair. This is new to both of us, Harry.”
“I know. Sorry.” He sighs, sitting back down. “But getting to know her… She’s a human, Niall.”
“And?”
“It makes everything more complicated.” They stare at each other, unsure of what else to say.
“Well, she’s not going anywhere, is she? And whilst we figure out a better plan, you can help me out.” That grin is back.
Harry sighs but welcomes a distraction, “What with…?”
“Ah, you know me—”
“Niall.”
“I may have upset a human in a very high position who may have threatened to start some sort of war—It’s nothing to worry about really, I just need someone with mind compulsion to help it go away,” he smiles at Harry, eyes teasingly beseeching.
“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that? You’re no better than the human,” but by his words, Niall knows he’s got him and he lets out a quiet cheer, patting Harry on the bicep.
“Thanks, man. We should probably do it sooner than later, though,” Harry rolls his eyes. It was never easy with Niall.
“Fine. Let’s go now.”
“Aren’t you gonna—” Niall trails off, pointing towards Y/N’s bedroom.
Harry sighs, “Oh yeah. I’ll be a second.” He tousles his hair, trying to hide his dishevelled state as he knocks on the door. When he receives no reply his hand tentatively turns the door handle, sincerely hoping he isn’t about to make things worse. An empty bedroom greets him and he breathes a sigh of relief which quickly hitches when he hears it; a watery intake of breath that anyone with lesser capabilities would miss. Harry’s hesitation vanishes as he knocks on the bathroom door. “Y/N? Can I come in?”
Y/N gasps, coughing quickly to cover it up (although Harry still hears it), “Uh, yeah!” She tries to sound upbeat—which even if she wasn’t crying would still be odd considering she’s never been excited to see Harry—but it only sounds unstable. Harry opens the door slowly and catches the panicked wiping of her face as she tries to brush away the tears before her hand disappears into the tumultuous clouds of bubbles that rest around her. He feels that steady throbbing in his gut; the desire to make it all better fighting with the frustration of feeling that urge in the first place.
The frustration wins as a condescending comment claws its way up his throat, “Oh Bambi, you’re all tearful. You feeling overwhelmed?” Harry’s brows pinch together and he frowns, which Y/N visibly reacts to as another tear falls down her face. “You’re a little crybaby, aren’t you? Been crying so much.” She doesn’t say anything; just watches him with big, wet eyes and hot cheeks as he takes a seat on the toilet seat lid.
“Did you want something?” Y/N asks, voice congested.
“I’m leaving with Niall now. Needs me to sort something out.”
“You’re leaving?” She squeaks before she can help it.
“Don’t you want me to?” He smirks, trying to ignore the fear in her eyes. They well up again and she turns her head away, scrunching them shut. She rests her head on her knees that she’s hugging to her chest, hiding as much of her face as she can. Harry’s guilt starts to overpower his pride and he swears he can feel every single tear as they fall. “I won’t be long and then I’ll come back, yeah?” But she doesn’t look at him, acknowledge him even. “I’ll come back,” he whispers one last time before hesitantly standing up and walking towards the door, keeping his eyes on her. Once the door clicks shut he hears her quivering exhale and makes a swift exit to find Niall.
“Okay, let’s go,” he breathes, taking in Niall’s expression.
“That was mean of you, Harry,” he says.
“Yeah.” His hand finds Niall’s shoulder and he gives him a nod before they vanish from Y/N’s living room without disturbing as much as a follicle of dust. But Y/N’s sure she feels a draft rattle the bathroom door as she lets out a sob and buries her head further into her knees. The water grows cold but she can’t make herself move—wallowing in her own despair for as long as she can cope with the shivering. She hates how conflicted Harry is making her feel. She’s angry at him for disrupting her life but is unsafe without him. Dependent on a man she does not know, a man that is not human, a man that she can’t believe she told she trusted. And yet she feels every single second that he is gone.
The cold breeze whips around Harry’s neck as he steps out of the Scottish Parliament Building; the feeling welcome as he breathes in deeply. Niall trails out behind him, wise to stay quiet. Harry’s guilty conscience is weighing heavily on him—the woman’s memory he’d just manipulated most definitely undeserving. But Niall was adamant that it had to be done and for once, Harry didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. “What was it this time?” He sighs as they walk towards a nearby bench.
“Broke her heart, didn’t I?” Niall tries to joke but Harry doesn’t entertain his attempted grin. “Comes with being a demon, you know as well as me. And of course she wasn’t best pleased and it all got blown out of proportion really. So thank you for your help. Didn’t much fancy going to war... We weren’t even really seeing each other—” Niall rambles on but Harry’s distracted; eyes focused on the disgruntled looking man who is squinting rather intensely at the pair from across the street. He attempts to ignore him but then the man raises his hand in an accusatory point and begins storming his way over.
“Niall,” Harry starts, whacking an arm out and into Niall’s stomach. He stops with a huff—hasn’t even seen the guy yet, oblivious as ever in his own world.
“What?” He looks at Harry and follows his eyes towards the angry civilian. “Shit.”
“Niall, what the fuck do you do with your life?”
“Let’s not get into that now, eh! Big smiles!” He says just as the man starts shouting.
“I know you! You stole my girlfriend!” He spits, stocky neck turning red.
“Ah, I believe I actually helped her, sir—”
“Don’t bullshit me!” He stops at Niall’s chin, fronts near touching, and Harry is disappointed he doesn’t find this more amusing. “You fucking convinced her to leave me.”
“I think she probably left you using her own intuition.”
“You getting smart with me?”
“Why? Are you struggling to understand?” Niall smirks down at him, not even flinching when he watches the man swing his arm back and punch him square in the jaw. His neck snaps to the side but the hit barely tickles him and Harry watches the man’s eyes widen slightly at the lack of reaction he pulled, taking a step back. Niall needs only to glance in Harry’s direction before he’s stepping up to the man himself and staring him in the eyes.
“You don’t recognise either of us. Your girlfriend left you because you are a shit person. Now go home and construct a long apology,” he nods dumbly, eyes absent as Harry strips away his freewill and gives him a little condescending pat on the head. The man stumbles away and Harry turns to Niall, wholly unimpressed. “If there’s anyone else you’ve fucked off you need to tell me right now.”
He scoffs, “Life is much easier when you can choose what you want people to remember.”
Harry just shrugs, “You could have learned,”
“Yeah well I didn’t, which is why I’m so nice to you,” he’s smiling again, completely brushing off the sour interaction.
“Right…” Harry scowls, crossing his arms. “I’m going home before someone else recognises you.”
“To your home or...” he trails off.
“I said I would go back,” Harry sighs, feeling the thump in his gut and he panics for a second, thinking she’s in danger but it settles down again. “To see if she’s alright,” Harry clarifies.
Y/N wouldn’t say she feels particularly alright, wrapped in her dressing gown and sinking into her sofa, pulling the material around herself in an attempt to feel shielded. She didn’t much want to go to bed after her bath, far too sad and nervous to try to sleep—and also aware of Harry’s words: I’ll come back. It feels silly but she is somewhat holding him to it; she doesn’t want to seem too eager but being in bed and having him appear seems like something that would only freak her out more, so the sofa feels safer. Her TV is on but she is paying it no mind, the anxiety sending her into a sort of incoherent daze as her eyes unfocus on the screen. It’s late and her head is screaming at her to go to bed but she’s stuck in her spot with her body slowly slumping further and further into the cushions until her eyelids are fluttering shut and she finally stops thinking.
When Harry arrives at Y/N’s house again, he nearly makes a beeline for her bedroom but does a double take when he sees the Y/N-like figure on her sofa. A quiet sigh escapes his mouth, frowning at the uncomfortable position she’d fallen into and wondering if she had waited for him. With tentative steps he makes his way over, near tiptoeing for the first time in probably over fifty years, and observes the way her breaths tremble the hairs that have fallen in front of her peaceful face. His fingers reach out before he can stop them, brushing the strands away from her forehead, lip twitching when she unconsciously leans into his touch.
With little deliberation, Harry tucks one large hand underneath Y/N’s knees and the other sneaks around her back, lifting her up with no effort. She whines a bit but doesn’t stir, resting her head comfortably against his shoulder as he takes her to her bedroom. He nudges the covers back with his knee before gently laying her down and pulling them over her. She must be exhausted, he thinks, as a yawn of his own overtakes him. It would be so nice to go home now; to snuggle down in his own bed, surrounded by his own smell and his own things, but he replays the look on her face when he left her and can’t bring himself to be the cause of that again. So with a sigh, Harry makes his way to the chair he was first acquainted with in her room and takes a seat, leaning back and stretching his legs out, bum close to the edge. His eyes close easily, as if weighed down by magnets. The moon shines through a gap in Y/N’s curtains and he can feel it on his face but Harry’s legs have turned to lead and he is being pulled further and further away from consciousness as he focuses on the soft sounds of Y/N’s breaths and her steady heartbeat until he too joins her in sleep.
Y/N has never been one to have many nightmares, dreams mainly uneventful. Usually she wakes with no recollection of dreaming at all which has been somewhat of a bummer in the past when her imagination had been running wild and there had been a level of excitement that she might experience a rousing dream that she’d wake up and be thinking about all day. But to no avail, her nights are always peaceful—so much so that Y/N had researched lucid dreaming when she was particularly bored one evening, not hopeful that it would work but intrigued nonetheless. The idea that anyone could make genuine decisions whilst they were unconscious was fascinating and she cursed her brain for being so intent on just sleeping.
However tonight, it seems, is an anomaly. Just like the last two days of her life. Her heartbeat picks up and Harry feels himself pull away from his deep unconsciousness slightly but he stays asleep, readjusting on the chair in his less-than-ideal position. Y/N, on the other hand, is restless as her mind pins her down and forces vivid images upon her. Dark eyes that don’t belong to Harry, but a looming figure with teeth sharpened into points that look like they would penetrate skin with just the slightest of touches. The thing corners her in the box-like room they’re in, leaning closer and closer until Y/N can see that its eyes are billowing smoke as it falls down deathly gaunt cheeks. There are no windows in this dream, no indications that it might not be real, no escape route, just the claustrophobic feeling of trying to push herself as far as possible into the wall. Her hands in the real world are clutching onto her sheets impossibly tight, having pulled them out from under the covers to cool down, but no amount of air would stop the terror sweats that have started. And it only gets worse when what she (unnaturally quickly) assumes is a demon squeezes her skin tight and pulls her up the wall by her waist, claws pinching her and she makes a noise in her dream that also echoes around her bedroom.
Harry’s ears are alert now but his eyes are yet to catch up with them, eyelids moving slightly. It’s not until Y/N cries out that he is sitting up hastily, looking over at her to see that she is also sat up, arms tight around her knees and tears streaming out of her wide, scared eyes. To Y/N, he is just a shadow—a large, dark, looming shadow much like the one she’s just been forced to encounter. When he leans forward with a small, “Hey, it’s me,” and Harry’s face is revealed in the moonlight, she lets out a loud sigh; a whimper of relief following before burying her face in her hands and trying to tame her thumping heart which is making her feel nauseous.
With shaky hands, she rids herself of the dressing gown Harry had left her in—skin uncomfortably warm, shoving it to the floor and leaving herself in her oversized pyjama shirt. Harry stands up slowly and moves to the end of her bed. “Please don’t just stand there. You look like a monster that lives under my bed,” she whispers.
Harry smiles, “I kind of am,” he chuckles but doesn’t move, unsure of what she wants.
“Can you—” She pats the space next to her, eyes watching him with uncertainty. “I had a dream—” Y/N rubs at her lip nervously as Harry makes his way round and brings his knees up onto her mattress, keeping his distance. “—you came back,” he nods, following her shaky fingers as they pick at her skin. He brings her wrist down gently. “It was really scary,” she frowns. “Could you make it go away please?”
Harry doesn’t understand for a moment, wondering how he could even possibly make her feel better, and then it clicks, “I don’t know, Bambi… I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you,” he tries but Y/N starts shaking her head.
“You won’t be. I’m asking you to do it,” she insists, looking down at his knees. “I don’t want to feel scared anymore, I want to sleep.” Harry feels his heart squeeze, guilt trickling through his veins. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Her eyes meet his when she smells it; his signature scent, the telling sign that he’s doing something. Y/N’s body relaxes and her eyelids droop slightly and Harry can feel her demeanour shift. She moves to lie back down, turning on her side and when Harry starts to get up she shoots her hand out, “Please, stay,” her eyes are barely open and he wonders if she really means it, but he doesn't rather fancy going back to his chair. So he slowly lowers himself down next to her, elbow folding underneath the side of his head as he looks at her drift off again.
Just as he thinks she’s gone, her fingers reach and grip onto the front of his shirt lightly and she whispers, words jumbled, “You’re a nice demon, Harry. You’re not scary.” Her breathing evens out after that and her hand stays attached to the fabric of his top but Harry is trying too hard to ignore the warmth bubbling in his chest at her confession to care. Sleep doesn’t find him as easily as his head swirls with thoughts and he keeps an eye on Y/N to make sure she’s still okay. Harry’s mind only get louder when she rolls towards him and onto her stomach, head manoeuvring onto his pillow so close that her breaths hit his chin and he knows he should probably move away but she’s right there and she’s soft and she’s warm, and his resolve seems to crumble around her anyway. So he lets himself trace her nose with his forefinger, and across the apple of her cheek, down her jaw and back up to her temple. Harry’s sure their heartbeats have synced up and it makes his beat harder and his touches longer, keening at the way she shuffles even closer. He knows she would recoil at the thought of doing this in a right state of mind and would’ve preferred anyone else to stay with her, but Harry does his best to hope that he can bring some sort of comfort, calming abilities aside.
Seeing her crying in the bath earlier had hurt more than he’d realised, relishing in the distraction of helping Niall and tucking it away for later. Now that it was later Harry hates himself for talking to her like that, in aiding in her tears, in letting his anxiety of their situation overpower her obvious need of solace. He’d felt nineteen again; he’d felt mean.
And looking down at her now, as he places a tentative hand on her back, he sincerely hopes she doesn’t wake up angry at him in the morning—even though he most definitely deserves it.
#harry styles#harry styles one shots#harry styles x reader#demonrry#demon!harry#writing#demon harry#harry styles imagines#harry styles smut#harry styles blurbs#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles demon#fanfiction#niall horan#harry styles fluff#blurbs#imagines#demon#vanilla lime
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Rin, identity issues, and the complications of being an isolated, alienated teenager
It feels sort of weird to say but I generally don’t head canon characters as having particular sexualities. Whatever people go for in fics is usually fine with me - gay, lesbian, bi, pan, something more general like queer. As long as it makes sense for the story they’ve built and the character they’ve shaped to fit it, I’m good. Unless you’re ignoring a canon LGBTQ+ sexuality, in which case, yeah, I’ll take issue with that.
But anyway. Rin.
I’ve got my personal ship for him (BonRin my beloved), but regardless of the pairing I see him as bisexual. He’s so open with his infatuation with Shiemi, and okay, sure, fandom likes to ignore the love interest in shounen for the most part because we’ve got gay ships to peddle. But I don’t see the point in that unless it really reads like it’s a front, or a result of a character suppressing themselves for one reason or another. And with Rin, I think it’s pretty clear his affection for Shiemi is sincere. You technically have the in-universe evidence of the demon that brought out his true desires to back that up, but even without it, Rin likes her. It’s complicated because of Yukio and Shiemi’s own inexperience with romance, and yet I never once doubt he really likes her.
That being said… he’s very appreciative of the guys in his life, too. (Peddling my gay ship here) Bon in particular, considering he’s often admiring how cool he thinks Bon is, that his haircut suits him whether it’s the blonde rooster look or the undercut. If you don’t want to see it as romantic interest, that’s your prerogative, but to me Rin comes across as seeing cool and cute as different traits he finds attractive (in Bon and Shiemi respectively).
I also think his bisexuality would fit neatly into his narrative struggles to “pass” throughout the early parts of the series. Rin has grown up as the neighborhood problem child, ostracized for being violent, and eventually he decides he’s fine with just his brother and his father — and the rest of the monastery, presumably — for company. (Except that’s absolutely not true and clearly he’s starved for friendship and support.) People looked at him and saw a monster, even before his demonic heritage made an appearance; why would he bother giving them even more ammunition when it comes to reasons to hate him? So no matter when he figured out his attraction to guys, he’s not going to lean into it, because he also likes girls, right? (Ignoring for a moment that bisexuality is a lot more nuanced than that.)
Rin likes girls, Rin is human — that’s what’s going to get people to like him, or at the very least tolerate him. That he likes guys, that he’s half demon, he can shove that shit down and pretend it doesn’t exist. Lock up any stray thoughts and keep the sword sheathed around anyone who doesn’t already know.
(Excuse me for being amused by Rin wielding his humanity and supposed heterosexuality as a sword and shield.)
The problem, of course, is that he can’t keep up the facade forever. The narrative won’t let him. Rin has to embrace his demonic side, because it’s the only way to move forward and to continue to help his loved ones. And once he’s moved past the issue of his friends being upset over the deception, when they understand he’s still Rin despite what he’d hidden from them, Rin is finally allowed to be himself. He uses his flames, he lets his tail move freely in the open around the Cram School kids. Rin still doesn’t like this side of himself — it’s inextricably tied to every moment of pain and isolation he’s dealt with his entire life, including the death of Father Fujimoto (and, y’know, his mom). But he is moving forward, he’s trying to adapt.
And isn’t that some great fucking subtext for his bisexuality, too?
#king’s court#blue exorcist#ao no exorcist#okumura rin#rin okumura#bonrin#because I love them#anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk#I probably made more sense in my head than I did writing everything out#but oh well#there’s a similar conversation to be had about yukio and his suppression/obsession that develops#but I am not qualified for that one#also I promised myself when I made this blog that I’d try to be engaged with the fandoms I got into#because the one I’d sunk a lot of time and effort into on my main no long brings me much joy and I miss interacting with people#so. uh. here I am I guess#god this is probably less compelling than my season 2 analysis of bnha seven years after it aired
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Deal, My Little Whore?
Pairing / Dark! Dad’s Best Friend x Reader
Warnings / Non-Con, Drug Use, Reader calls Javi Tio (uncle) (Let me know if I missed any!!)
You don’t know how it happened. Your dad had warned you about these men, told you about the work he had done to keep the streets safe. His partner had warned you about them too, Javier Peña had taught you how to defend yourself if you ever had to.
Your dad and Javier had been working together for as long as you could remember, best friends and the best team, he was your tio, though he wasn’t related to you he’d been in your life for so long.
So how did you have these two men in your life, both of whom made you aware of the dangers of their world and somehow you still ended up here.
You sniffed hard, barely even flinching anymore at the feeling of coke up your nose. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t come here again, everyone knew Escobar ran this place, you knew your dad and Javier had been trying to find it for months.
And yet here you were again.
The place was packed and you were wasted, the coke entering your system wasn’t even necessary at this point but you couldn’t say no. You were aware of the hands on your hips, aware of the cock against your ass and yet you were too high and too drunk to push him away.
You didn’t care enough to push him away either, the more coke you did the more you wanted a quick fuck. Three months ago you wouldn’t have dared to fuck somebody you didn’t know, no feelings involved, no dates to lead up to it.
That was before you met Vanessa and you were introduced to this life. By the time you had known she was one of Escobar’s girls you were too far in, night after night she took you out, held the coke under your nose and the booze to your mouth.
You moaned as you felt the hand on your hip slip under your skirt, fingers moving your panties and rubbing across your wet pussy. You reached back, freeing the man’s cock from his pants, not caring that you were stood in the middle of the club, not caring that people could see you. You guided the man’s cock to your pussy and moaned loudly as he slammed his cock into you.
To your left you saw movement and turned to see Vanessa grinning at you as she lifted a key to your nose, a line of coke ready for you. As the man continued slamming to you, you leaned forward and took the coke from her, snorting it into your system and feeling a rush straight away.
You barely remembered getting home that night, coked out of your mind with cum between your legs. You were shocked that you’d been able to hide this from your dad and Javier but then again they had been busy in the office lately. Escobar was keeping them too busy to pay you much attention.
And that’s how it went for months, every night you’d find yourself in the club, unable to say how much coke you’d taken, barely able to walk, wetter than ever taking whatever cock was closest.
You were bound to slip up at some point.
“Out all night?” Javier asked as you walked into the kitchen, catching you off guard.
“Tio,” you gasped, thighs tightening as you felt warm cum pooling against your panties and hating being in such a state around him. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Got sent home, thought I’d check on you.” Javier told you, frowning as he ran his eye up and down your body. “Good thing I did.”
“I’m fine, tio.” You insisted, forcing your feet to move as you tried to walk to your room.
Javier was having none of it though, standing in front of you he grabbed your chin in between his fingers and forced you to look at him.
“The fuck is this shit, Y/N?” He demanded, his other hand coming up to rub at your nose, your heart in your throat as you saw little specks of coke on his finger. “You’re fucking high?”
“M’sorry Javi.” You pleaded with him, hating that disappointed look on his face.
“You’re sorry?!” He spat and you barely suppressed a cry as he grabbed your arm and dug his fingers into you. “Have you learnt nothing, you stupid, stupid little girl!”
“Javi.” You whimpered, the booze and coke a deadly combination in this situation as you tried to think of how to get out of it.
“You watched me and your dad kill ourselves to stop Escobar and you’re what? You his little whore now?!” Javier shouted, forcing you against the wall and you cried as you slammed into it.
“Not his whore, tio.” You whined, head falling against the wall as you looked at Javier through half lidded eyes.
“Yeah?” Javier asked and you went to nod before he cut you off, his hand roughly cupping your pussy causing your eyes to fly open. “What’s this then? You sure look like some little whore with a pussy full of cum.”
“Tio,” you gasped, frozen at his rough hold. “M’sorry, Javi, please I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” He spat, grabbing your arm again and throwing you against the counter, your chest digging into it. “Bebita, you will be sorry.”
Before you could catch your next breath, you were crying out. Javier’s hand slapped painfully hard against your ass causing you to let out a loud cry, tears filling your eyes instantly.
“Tio,” you began but your pleas were cut off by a stinging slap that echoed around the room.
“This is what you want, huh? To be filled with coke and cum and treated like a whore?” Javier spat, his hand coming down again and again on your ass as tears made their way down your cheeks. “Look at you, such a pathetic little bitch.”
His words had you crying harder, a mess of apologies leaving your lips but it was no use.
“Look at this shit,” Javier snarled as he finally gave your ass a break to shove your panties down, his fingers dragging harshly across your pussy as he collected a handful of cum. “My little girl, so smart, so fucking clever, and she throws that away for some pathetic cock.”
Javier turned you around, pressing himself against you to hold you in place. You went to open your mouth, went to beg and plead with him but before any words could come out Javier had shoved his fingers inside your mouth, the taste of your cum mixed with a strangers forced into your mouth, choking you as Javier forced his fingers as far in as they’d go.
“That’s what you want isn’t it, you little whore.” Javier mocked, forcing you to taste the cum before he pulled his fingers out.
“Tio, please, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” You promised but Javier was beyond listening.
You gasped as his fingers wrapped tightly around your throat, your airways suddenly cut off and you couldn’t do more than let out a few choked panicked noises.
Javier didn’t care though, his little girl has disappointed him. Gone was that promising smart kid and instead he was left with a coke hungry little whore.
Javier didn’t let up on your neck as his other hand freed his hard cock from his tight jeans, thankful he regularly chose to forgo underwear. He wasted no time in shoving the length of his cock into your pussy, groaning at the tight warmth that encompassed him.
Your eyes were wide, shaking your head as little as you could as tears fell down.
“No?” Javier asked with a laugh in his tone. “No baby girl, you don’t get to say no, you’re just a little whore now, aren’t you?”
Javier slammed into you with no mercy, finally letting you breathe and listened to the sounds of your cries and begs as he fucked you.
“Tio, please, m’sorry!” You repeated over and over again despite the fact your pussy was soaking wet.
Javier ignored you, fucking his whole length into you and letting your cries carry him over the edge until he was filling you up with his cum causing you to let out a choked sob.
“You ever think of letting anyone else cum in my pussy again and I’ll hand you over to the DEA myself, you hear me?” Javier threatened and you stared at him wide eyed in disbelief. “Can’t do it, you coke hungry little whore?”
You hated to admit it but he was right, you’d been on coke for months now, taking it every day. You needed it.
“You want coke, baby?” Javier asked, his voice softer than it had any reason to be considering his cock was still inside you.
“You can have all the coke you want but this pussy,” he told you, emphasising his words by thrusting deep inside you causing you to cry. “But this pussy is mine, we got a deal, my little whore?”
More tears fell from your eyes, wondering how you’d ended up here. It would have been unthinkable months ago, you never would have imagined Javier, the man who had been in your life for as long as you could remember, the man who you called tio, to put you in this position, to not help you but instead use your problem to do this to you.
When had he changed so much?
When had you changed so much?
“Deal, Javi.”
#javier pena#narcos#javier peña#dark javier pena#dark narcos#dark javier peña#dark fic#javier pena x reader#narcos x reader#javier peña x reader#dark narcos x reader
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Heyy I'd like to request a Eddie x Reader, where they are best friends and she is trying everything to bring him to making a move on her, but no matter how obvious she is (dressing a certain way, creating compromising situations, whatever you can think of) he just does not notice it bc he has forbidden himself to think of you this way, so he rationalises it all away
And eventually the reader thinks she has to accept his disinterest and feels embarrassed and maybe a little insecure and becomes more closed off. Eddie notices ofc and eventually manages to make her confess she was trying to get his attention all along.
You can decide about the ending, either just a fluffy confession, or smut, or both, I'd be happy about whatever🥰 thank you in advance if you decide to write it :))
LET ME LOVE YOU
eddie munson x f!reader — angst, smut
2949 words
she couldn’t tell whether eddie was just plain stupid, or acting oblivious on purpose. for weeks now, she’d been making advances on him, even going as far as wearing more revealing clothes around him, pressing herself almost embarrassingly close to him. she’d even taken to cropping the hellfire club shirt eddie gave her, wearing her shortest pair of jean shorts to school that day, making sure she sat right next to eddie at lunch that day.
“henderson, wheeler,” eddie watched as the two freshman boys ambled their way to their seats across the table from them, her fingers subtly stroking up and down the middle of his thigh, pretending as though she didn’t notice as she sunk her teeth down into her sandwich. “where’s sinclair?”
“oh, you know,” dustin waved him off. “guess the basketball team had a meeting or whatever, so he’s with his little ‘b-ball’ friends.” eddie glanced over to the basketball team table, and sure enough, there lucas sinclair sat, clearly feeling uncomfortable and out of place. lucas seemed to catch eddie’s gaze, making sure none of the basketball players, especially jason carver, were looking as he mouthed a ‘sorry.’ eddie turned away, glimpsing down to his lunch. “oh well, i’m sure he’ll join us tomorrow, right?” she shrugged, kicking his foot with hers.
“mmm, i’m not so sure,” he mumbled, gesturing over to the heap of blonde hair at the head of the table whom she could only pinpoint as none other than jason carver himself. “he won’t let that kid live it down if he sees him with me,” eddie shook his head. “jason’s head is so far up his ass, i bet he can see out of his own mouth.”
the table erupted into a fit of sniggering at this, and she giggled behind her hand, taking this as her chance to shoulder him. eddie snuck a peek over at her, pinching his bottom lip with his teeth in hopes to suppress the crimson creeping up to his cheeks. “hey, why does she get a hellfire shirt?” she narrowed her eyes over at gareth who sat on the other side of eddie, his forefinger aimed at her. eddie glanced between him and her, his eyes lingering over her chest for a second too long, and she noticed. “what d’you mean?” eddie questioned behind a mouthful of his food.
gareth cocked an eyebrow, “i mean, she doesn’t even play dnd. she’s not even part of our club.” the corner of her lip curved up into a smirk and she placed her sandwich back down onto her lunch tray, pressing her palms down against eddie’s thigh before she leaned over his lap, his muscles tensing beneath her touch. although she couldn’t see his face, she was almost certain that he’d gone wide-eyed. “what’s wrong gareth? does the way i dress bother you?”
she watched as the boy’s eyes briefly dipped down to the hem of her shirt, a little uneven where her scissors had snipped. she chuckled and pushed down onto eddie’s thigh, slowly leaning away but letting her touch linger on his knee as she settled back down into her seat. she glimpsed over at eddie just as he cleared his throat and straightened his posture, taking a sip of his drink. “i gave her the shirt because she’s my friend, alright?” he finally spoke up, and the rest of the boys just nodded along, stealing glances at one another. “besides, it wouldn’t be hellfire club if we didn’t welcome all rejects.” she narrowed her eyes at him, and he turned towards her, tilting his head, “no offense.”
she shrugged, it wasn't like he was wrong, anyways.
friend.
the word rang through her ears, and she felt her body deflate, all the confidence she’d had just moments ago seemingly melting away. she suddenly felt self conscious, mostly of the clothes she was wearing, and the fact that she was wearing them to impress a boy.
she shouldn’t have to wear things like this for his attention, and if not even the clothes were enough for him to take the hint, the maybe he just wasn’t interested in her at all in that way.
she began to zone out, suddenly not interested in purposely stroking eddie’s thigh trying to get a reaction out of him, or in what he and the group were bickering about now. her mind began to race, thinking back on all the moves she’d made on him the past few weeks, on the measures she’d taken in hopes that he’d notice her. that was when she realized that all her attempts may as well have been in vain.
it was clear to her now— eddie munson just really wasn’t that interested.
the bell sudden permeated the cafeteria, and she blinked, snapping out of the trance she’d fallen into before scooping up her tray, abruptly standing up from her seat. “hey, see you in chem?”
she turned to see eddie walking behind her, and all of a sudden, she found it hard to even look him in the eyes. “uh, yeah, sure,” she shrugged, making haste for the trash cans at the front of the room, tossing her garbage in. she didn’t stay to hear whatever else he had to say, her embarrassment pooling in heat at her cheeks as she made her way to her next class.
she hadn’t talked much to eddie the past couple of days, still coming to terms with the fact that she’d have to find a way to move on, to find a way to get rid of the feelings she’d harbored for him for so long.
it’d been a chore, trying to keep away from eddie for the past few days. they did everything together, he’d always give her a ride after school, they’d always hang out, pretty much spent the majority of their day together. convincing him that she had things to do after school was the hardest part— mostly because he knew she never had anything after school, so he knew that something was wrong.
and he wasn’t taking that bullshit excuse today.
she scanned the hallway for him as she shoveled all of her things into her bag, making haste for the exit as soon as she confirmed that it was clear. she pushed open the door to the school, rays of sunlight pummeling down onto her skin and into her eyes, her lids narrowing to keep it away. still, she did not see eddie munson, and she sighed with relief— another successful day without running into—
“hey, need a ride?”
she spoke too soon.
she tensed as she turned towards the source of the voice, and there he was, eddie munson in all of his leather jacket and ripped jean glory. her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as she pressed her lips together, gathering her excuse onto the tip of her tongue. “i-uh, i actually have something to do, like.. right now,” she lied, her words sliding like moss between her teeth. god, she was such a terrible liar. “yeah so.. i’ll just, you know.. walk.”
“nuh-uh-uh,” he shook his head, grabbing onto her forearm as she tried to slip past, throwing her head back and groaning when he pulled her back in front of him. “yeah, so, uh— that’s bullshit,” he said, point blank, “and you wanna know why? cause i’ve known you for, like, basically half your life and i know you’re not that busy.”
her teeth gnawed at the flesh of the inside of her cheek. he knew her way too well.
eddie grinned from ear to ear, dangling the keys to his van off of his pinky. “so? ride?”
her shoulders deflated in defeat, heat surging to her cheeks. “fine.”
she followed him to his van, and he opened the passenger side door for her, gesturing towards the seat like a gentleman in an old movie would. “milady,” he bowed, and she scowled, avoiding eye contact as she plopped down onto the seat. he pushed her door closed before making his way around the van, and she turned her head to instead gaze out of her window instead, her lips puffy with a pout. eddie shifted the van into drive, and soon, hawkins high school faded into the background, covered by the endless line of trees.
she didn’t dare speak, intending to not even talk to him the entire ride, until of course he had to break the silence, cutting through the thick tension like a knife. “so, why’ve you been avoiding me?”
she knew better than to think that he hadn’t noticed, but she still wasn’t prepared to give him an answer. she tried to play it off, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him a shrug. “i haven’t been avoiding you.”
“that’s horse shit. you have been avoiding me.”
she toyed her bottom lip with her teeth, her heart suddenly beginning to race. “i haven’t.”
he rested his elbow on the center console, his opposite hand gripping the top of the steering wheel as he glanced over to where she sat. “you can’t even look at me right now and you wanna try and bullshit me like that?” she narrowed her eyes and in one swift motion, turned his way and met his stare, feeling like she’d melt into a pool of magma at his fiery gaze. “i.. haven’t been avoiding you,” she cursed herself mentally at how meek her voice sounded, digging her nails into the flesh of her arms as if to hold herself down.
eddie’s eyelids narrowed and made a sudden right turn, the van coming to a halt off the side of the road. “what the hell, eddie?”
“did i do something? did i hurt your feelings? did i do something wrong?”
she blinked, averting her gaze to her lap, her chest heaving as she tried to regain her composure. “eddie, what are you—“
“you’re crying. i did do something, didn’t i?”
she hadn’t even realized it until he pointed it out, the way her vision glossed over and the outskirts of her eyes burned with the sting of tears. she swatted at them, desperate to wipe the evidence away. “i’m not crying, i don’t know what you’re—“
“just talk to me, please,” he pleaded, reaching over the console to rest his hand over hers, and she blinked, a droplet of a tear falling down right onto his skin. “you used to tell me everything, but i can hardly read you right now. i thought i knew you like the back of my own hand.”
with his other hand, he reached to cradle her face, turning it to face his. a line of tears streamed down her face, free-falling down her cheeks and she didn’t even try and make the effort to wipe them away this time. something bubbled within her chest, and if she opened her mouth, she knew all too well she wouldn’t be able to keep it down.
but she knew she had no other choice.
“eddie, i—“ she began, her bottom lip wobbling as she leaned into his touch, shaking her head to stray away from it all in the same motion. “—i, i love you.” eddie blinked, but she didn’t dare try to meet his gaze. his hand fell limp in her lap and she pried her own away, resting them awkwardly on her other thigh. “god, i’ve loved you for so long and i thought.. i thought you’d like me too so i tried everything to make a move on you but you just never noticed so i thought i was making a fool out of myself and.. and..”
eddie caught her breath with his mouth, his lips practically crashing against hers, and it took her mind a moment to even register what he was doing. he was kissing her, god, he was kissing her and it felt so good, felt so right, like it was just a dream. when he pulled away, he let his lips linger over hers, and she chased them, pressing another soft kiss into his warm, plush flesh. “eddie,” she whispered, wrapping her hand around his wrist as his fingers wove themselves through her hair, the heel of his palm warm against her cheek.
“you weren’t making a fool out of yourself,” he finally murmured. “i knew.. i knew what you were doing but.. i..” he trailed off, and she peeled her eyelids back open, the pad of her thumb soothing over his wrist, encouraging him to go on. “..i was so.. scared. like, what if i was just misreading your signals and i ended up ruining what we had?” her breath hitched in her chest, and she gripped his wrist harder, as if she were afraid he’d slip away. “eddie..”
“i had to literally forbid myself from you, because i was just so afraid that i’d hurt you.”
her eyebrows knit together and with her opposite hand, she caressed the side of his face, her thumb grazing just below his bottom lip. “hurt me?” she shook her head. “you could never hurt me, eddie. not even in a million years.” he tilted his head against hers, his forehead hot against hers. “i’ve just.. i’ve never been in love like this before and.. i don’t know,” he shrugged. “i didn’t mean to make you feel that way, i just.. didn’t know what to do.”
“hey.. look at me.”
she mimicked what he had told her only minutes before, and slowly, his eyelids peeled open to reveal those soft, chocolate brown irises she’d grown to adore so much. her finger traced his jawline as she smiled, “i love you. and you just admitted that you love me too, right?” the lump in his throat visibly bobbed as he nodded, searching through her eyes for something he could hold onto. and he found it. “then just let me love you. and i’ll let you love me.”
eddie couldn’t waste another moment not doing what he’d always dreamed of. his lips molded together with his, and it wasn’t long until he pulled her into his lap, their lips breaking apart only so that he could tug her shirt up and over her head before doing the same to his. their lips found each other again amidst the storm of pleasure and young love, his kisses trailing down her face to her jaw, sucking marks there as his palms kneaded her breasts over the lace of her bra.
“oh, eddie,” she sighed, throwing her head back as she tangled her fingers through his mess of curly brown locks, anchoring herself with them. his lips found the top of her breasts, and she reached behind herself to unclasp her bra, hurriedly sliding them down her arms before tossing them to the passenger’s seat. eddie cursed beneath his breath at the sight of her chest, bare before him, wasting no time in collecting one of her erect nipples in his mouth, her whimpers permeating his van. “you’re so.. amazing,” eddie sighed, the windows beginning to fog to veil their lust away from the world.
as his kisses passed the valley of her breasts and found her other nipple, his hands worked at the button of her jean shorts, and she managed to slide them along with her panties down her legs, kicking them off her ankles. she worked at his jeans, his cock springing free from the restraints of his boxers as she tugged his pants down just enough for his length to be uncovered. eddie let go of her nipple with a pop as her fingers wrapped around his length, teasing at the pink tip as his hands ventured down to her center, his digits coated with her slick as he rubbed at her swollen clit. “fuck, just like that, baby,” he panted as she stroked up and down his length, whining as he rubbed harder at her clit.
“eddie,” she mewled. “want it inside.” eddie thought he’d melt right then and there. he gripped at either of her hips with his big, sweaty palms, gently guiding her down his length, their sounds mixing together and emitting the perfect symphony. “shut, fuuuck, so tight,” he growled as she sunk further down his cock, her fingernails etching crescent moons into the skin of his shoulders. “god, eddie, you’re so.. so big.”
he glanced up at her, and her eyes surged together with his, their gazes locking as they made love to one another, his hand slithering around to the back of her head and guiding her lips back to his— where they belonged. their kiss was sloppy, and his hand made its way back down to her hips, his grip like iron, her flesh on either side sure to bruise.
“i love you,” eddie whispered against her swollen lips, “i’m sorry.. i’m sorry it took me this long to say it.” she smiled against his lips, the saltiness of her tears mixed with their saliva. “it’s okay. i love you t—“
suddenly, her elbow bumped against the stereo, and both of their eyelids snapped open as eddie’s loud and rather cacophonous metal music blasted through the speakers. eddie rushed and fumbled with the volume dial as he turned it down, and she panted, his cock still deep inside of her. laughter bubbled in her chest and she chuckled, her forehead resting against his. eddie laughed too, his fingernails soothing over her skin. “sorry,” he muttered, and she shook her head, rolling her head against his to press a kiss to his lips.
“maybe we should continue at my place?” he asked, and she pursed her lips.
“..maybe for round two.”
a/n; my first eddie fic! i feel kind of good about this one, so i’m hoping you all like it! sorry my fics have all been pretty angsty lately, i kind of like writing it the best that way lol
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#joe quinn#eddie munson headcanons
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A Great Mentor: Keeper
A One Shot
Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader
Request: “I was thinking about a little blurb of Andy and reader dating for like a year (long enough for them to have said I love you) and they’re just reminiscing together one day and he cheekily asks reader what was the moment she knew he was ‘a keeper’”
Warnings: Age gap, allusion to past abortion, multiple flashbacks that I hope are easy to follow along (I love a good flashback with this couple, SUE ME)
Word count: ~2,100
Series masterlist
The baseball game on the TV is background noise for you as you focus on the textbook in your lap. You’ve told Andy multiple times he could turn the volume up, not knowing how he’s following what’s going on if he can’t hear it. But he claims he’s fine, wanting you to be able to concentrate on studying.
A lot of the weekends he visits are spent like this – Quiet afternoons in your apartment, Andy keeping you company while you do school work. He doesn’t mind though. Neither of you do, just happy to be spending time together in person. It sure beats the hours-long phone calls you have to settle for throughout the week.
You can feel him staring at you and you know he has something to say when he rests a hand on your legs that are in his lap. But you don’t entertain him.
“Can I ask you something?” There’s a bit of amusement in his voice. “When did you…” He pauses as if he’s looking for the word he wants to use. “...Know?”
Rolling your eyes, you finally look up at him, laughing a little. “Know what?”
“That you liked me enough to be with me this long.”
“Oh,” you hum, teasing him. “When I knew you were a keeper?”
“I guess, yeah.” He drops his head, hiding his awkward smile from you. “Didn’t know how to say that without sounding like a lovesick teenage boy.”
Closing your textbook, you shrug thinking about it. “I think there were a lot of moments that all added up.”
He gives you a look, kind of cocky, but intrigued. “Go on.”
“Starting all the way back when I wasn’t supposed to be falling for you.” You shoot him a playful glare. He’ll never understand how impossible he made it to not fall for him. “Like… That time you asked me to come over and I assumed it was for a hookup, but you just wanted someone to talk to.”
˗ˏˋ You would have denied it if you were asked, but you looked forward to his texts asking you to come over. It had only been a couple weeks of… whatever you'd call the arrangement between the two of you, but something about him was intoxicating, addicting, and you quickly grew to look forward to the evenings you could spend with him.
That day his text came earlier than usual, but you figured he maybe got off of work early. When you got to his house though, you found him in his home office, still with work scattered around him.
“Hey,” you spoke up softly to get his attention.
“Hey you,” he grinned, but didn’t look up from his computer.
He wasn’t giving you much to work with. You cocked your head watching him continue to work on whatever you walked in on.
“So,” you hummed. “What’s up?”
“Just having the longest day ever,” he scoffed softly. Finally looking up at you, he saw the bemused look on your face. “What?”
“Well, do you need me to….” You were willing to offer anything really, but not say it out loud, hoping he’d fill in the blank for you.
“No, I don’t need you to do anything,” he shook his head, equally confused. “Wait, what did my text say?”
“Uh,” you chuckled. “Come over. Question mark. Same as always.”
You held your fingers up as air quotes as you said it and he mouthed a silent ‘Oh.’
“No, I’ve just had the day from hell and my first thought was just asking you to come over to…” He shrugged, not sure what he was thinking really, but he for once wasn’t alluding to sex is all he knew.
“So you just want me to….”
“Keep me company… Hang out… Chill...” He kept looking for words and winced at the smirk you were failing to suppress.
“Don’t hurt yourself trying to sound younger,” you teased, saving him from any more attempts at finding the word someone your age would use. “I got it.”
“I’m really sorry.” He didn’t know why he assumed you’d want to “hang out” with him. “I should have just said that instead of my usual text.”
“No, it’s okay.” You looked around the room and took a few steps back to get comfortable on the sofa across from his desk. “I like just talking to you.”
You weren’t lying. Over those couple weeks, you got to… kind of know him. It was surface level, but enough to find out how funny and kind he was. You were right on the precipice of getting to know each other deeper. You could feel it, no matter how much you tried to reject the thought.
“Right on,” he smiled.
It felt good to know he enjoyed your presence all the time, not only when you were in his bed. ˎˊ˗
“I was kind of an ass,” he laughs, shaking his head thinking back to it. “Ordering you to come over like that.”
“Hey, I didn’t see it like that.” You nudge him with your knee to get him to look at you. “I would have said ‘no’ if I didn’t want to see you.”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow at you. “You never said ‘no’...”
“What’s not clicking?” You giggle. “I always wanted to see you.”
“Whatever.”
You miss the way he rolls his eyes as you take a careful pause before recalling another moment.
“There was also you not swearing me out of your life after…”
Your voice trails off, but you both know what you’re talking about. You don’t have to say it, you don’t like saying it.
˗ˏˋ You broke down once you got back to his place after it was over, partly from the pain that was setting in and partly from feeling like you did something wrong.
Barely making it through the door, he held you as you cried in his entryway.
He told you everything was going to be okay and you couldn’t fathom why he was being so nice, but you sure as hell weren’t going to risk anything by questioning it.
Once you had no tears left, he insisted on letting you sleep in his bedroom so you’d be comfortable.
“What about you?” You sniffled as he walked you upstairs.
“Don’t worry about me,” he chuckled, knowing he was too worried about you to get any sleep anyway.
While you tried to get comfortable in bed, he was asking what you needed and got everything he could think of – Painkillers, a heating pad, water.
“Yell for me if you need anything else, okay? Or text me if that’s easier.”
You just nodded and he knew you wanted to be alone.
“Andy,” you said softly, voice cracking, before he could shut the door behind him as he walked out.
When he turned back to you, his eyes said it again. “Stop apologizing.”
He didn’t say those words so many times over the previous days because he was upset with you or wanted to shut you up, but because he genuinely wanted you to know you had nothing to be apologizing for.
Neither of you actually said anything, just the look you shared felt like closure at the time. Where you kept expecting to see anger, you continuously saw the look of someone who really cared about you, giving you enough comfort to drift into a light sleep that night. ˎˊ˗
You avoid the sympathetic look that you know he can’t help. You don’t need it.
“I never would have,” he reminds you.
Offering a small smile, you do look back to him. “I know that.”
There’s a silence before you take it upon yourself to lighten the mood.
“Do you remember our first date?” You smirk. “I made you help me pick out my outfit.”
˗ˏˋ He wouldn’t tell you where he was taking you for dinner, so you showed up to his place with multiple outfit options.
And after not seeing each other in person for three months, you needed a way to break the ice anyway.
“Help me pick what to wear?” You asked with a hopeful smile.
You didn’t really give him an option though, finding yourself falling back into being comfortable with him like no time had passed. You gently grabbed his arm and started to walk upstairs, hoping he’d just follow you.
He shook his head as you laid out different pieces of clothes on his bed.
“It’s just dinner…”
He looked amused when you scoffed at him.
“You’re such a man. There’s different vibes at different restaurants and since you won’t tell me which one we’re going to…”
“Different ‘vibes’?”
“You’re killing me,” you laughed. He was clueless. “Just pick something.”
He held his hands up in defense, pointing at his pick. He just hoped he got the ‘vibes’ right, whatever that meant.
When you met him back downstairs after getting ready, he was sitting on his laptop at the kitchen counter.
“Oh, if you’re busy–”
“No, oh God, no,” he stuttered, feeling bad that’s what you immediately assumed. “I was just trying to pass time with work instead of the nervous pacing I was doing.”
Hearing him say he was nervous was funny. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.
“It’s just me,” you smiled. “No reason to be nervous.”
“That’s every reason to be nervous,” he chuckled before quickly changing the subject. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks…” The butterflies were going crazy in your stomach as he held out his hand for you. You took it, winking at him. “You don’t look too bad yourself Mr. Barber.” ˎˊ˗
There's an amused look on your face as that evening flashes through your mind. “That was definitely one of the moments.”
His face falls in a look of faux offense. “Seeing me nervous?”
“It was cute,” you tease. “And then I guess our second date was it for me. I think I finally let myself come to terms with the fact I had it bad for you.”
˗ˏˋ Everything was so easy with him.
You didn’t think anything of it as one thing led to another when you got back to his place after dinner. Making out on his couch turned into you straddling his lap as his hands softly roamed your back.
You felt your sweater ride up and the brush of Andy’s fingertips against your skin.
The accidental contact brought you out of your pleasure-filled haze, goosebumps covering your exposed skin.
“Wait,” you murmured against his lips, pulling away slightly to catch your breath. “I’m not– I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
You shook your head, resting your forehead against his. You didn’t want to lead him on like you felt you did a few weeks prior.
“I’m sorry–” He instinctively pulled your sweater back down, noticing where his hand was. “I wasn’t trying to… Wasn’t trying to take it any further than this.”
“Sorry,” you whispered, dropping your face to hide against his shoulder. You felt bad for assuming he was trying to push you to do anything. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he assured.
You carefully moved off of him to sit beside him instead, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Are you hungry?” He wasn’t going to allow an uncomfortable silence. “I still have those cookies that we didn’t make the last time you were here.”
Cracking a smile is the last thing you expected to do in that moment, but he got you to do it. ˎˊ˗
“You changed the subject to making cookies so I wouldn’t dwell on it,” you pout, thinking back to it.
He’s a little caught off guard finding out that meant so much to you.
“That was just me respecting whatever emotions you were going through at the time…”
“I know,” you laugh a little. “But I’m 99 percent sure any guy I was with before you would have tried talking me into feeling ready by then.”
“I never even would have thought to do that.”
“‘Cause you’re a good guy, Andy,” you tell him seriously before taking on a more teasing tone. “And I can’t believe I bagged you.”
He shakes his head. “The bar is on the floor for us guys, huh?”
“Yeah, it is,” you laugh, finally sitting up so you can kiss his cheek and look in his eyes. “But you exceed the bar, I promise. I’ve only fallen more and more in love with you every day since then.”
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#andy barber#andy barber x reader#andy barber fanfiction#chris evans x reader#chris evans fanfiction#andy barber fanfic#andy barber imagine#a great mentor series#requested
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The Doll and the Dragon
Chapter 4: A Lesson in Humility
Word Count: 15,747
Read on AO3
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Chapter summary: "With Yugo unavailable to spend time with her, Amalia makes a daring request: that she be allowed to attend to Glip and Baltazar's classes. The question is, will she be able to keep up with one of the Council members least willing to accept her? And what will she be able to gain from going to class in the first place? Perhaps, this will turn out to be a learning experience for not just her, after all."
Was it weird to feel that after an experience that should have brought you closer to someone the distance between the two of you was greater than ever?
Because Amalia would be lying if she said that wasn’t how she was feeling at the moment.
She really couldn’t make sense of it, no matter how much she tossed and turned at night trying to decipher it. And by ‘it’ she meant Yugo. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something had changed ever since their little excursion to the beach. The doll had already grown accustomed to his mercurial moods—sometimes he would be nothing but sweet and kind to her, other times, it was as if the mere thought of standing close to her was enough to freeze him on the spot. But given that was how he’d been acting since they first met, Amalia just figured that was just how he was, so she really didn’t think twice about it.
Things didn’t seem to be quite so simple as of late.
Yugo still treated her cordially and his manners when interacting with her were impeccable, befitting how a king like himself should treat a lady. However, perhaps, he was just a tad too polite? While the Eliatrope never went out of his way to be rude to her, he did go above and beyond to ensure he wasn’t too familiar, either. Not that long ago, he wouldn’t hesitate to take Amalia’s hand, especially if he sensed she could use some comfort; before either of them realised it, the distance between them would gradually grow smaller; and the Divine Doll could have sworn there was this undeniable fondness in his eyes whenever he looked at her.
And yet, soon after they returned from their little adventure, all that perceived intimacy had gone up in smoke. In fact, she would dare to say the strangest thing was how she could feel it was all still there, even when it wasn’t; it was almost as if Yugo were holding back.
She saw it in the strained curl of his lips, how it appeared as if he were physically forcing the smile out of his face, or at least, forcing the genuine happiness out of it. More than once, surely when the king thought she wasn’t looking, the doll caught sight of his hands making the motion of reaching out for her from the corner of her eye, only for him to then tuck them close to his body, denying them any movement. It was in the way he tended to linger by her side, only to seemingly snap out of whatever trance he found himself in and excuse himself for the day.
Bringing her arms around herself for comfort, Amalia had to suppress a groan. It was all so confusing! How was it possible that he could act like that after their adventure, while she had actually felt closer to him than ever? Not only did they go out to explore, but thanks to Adamaï she learned that day the two of them shared a strong wanderlust. They had discussed all kinds of topics under the sun, from whatever few memories she had of her time in Inglorium, to the Eliatrope siblings' high intake of red meat.
And they’d learned so much about each other, too! Amalia learned how going through an Eliatrope portal felt like—and subsequently swore to never experience that again—, and about Eliatrope dragons being shapeshifters. Meanwhile, Yugo (and by extension Adamaï) learned all about her connection to nature and how certain actions against plant-life could inadvertently cause her pain, as well as her own brand of shapeshifting-based tailoring.
Moreover, Yugo had explained what love—or, more accurately, romantic love—was, and now she knew she had one more new experience to look forward to.
Everything had been so perfect then, so why did everything feel so wrong now?
Truth be told, the Divine Doll sensed something wasn’t right the moment the Eliatrope King hastily told them they should return to the palace, his tone sounding almost desperate as he broke the quiet that had fallen over them in the afternoon sun. Said feeling only grew as they made their way back to the palace and Yugo didn’t so much as utter a word the whole time.
At the time she had been too overjoyed by the whole experience to really dig into it, the optimistic, foolish part of herself shrugging his uncharacteristically quiet demeanour off as just Yugo being in another one of his moods. He’d be as good as new the next day.
Said hope that things would go back to normal soon was dashed the next morning when, for the first time since redecorating her chambers, Yugo didn’t go pick her up. Despite the initial disappointment, Amalia tried to reason with herself by pointing out his royal duties probably got in the way. It was only a matter of days before said disappointment turned into hurt when she realised he was purposely avoiding her. Not only did he not bother to go see her most days, but the few times he did let himself be seen by her, the Divine Doll could feel the growing distance between them chilling her to the bone despite Oma’s tropical temperatures, his demeanour nothing like the king’s whose friendship she’d come to hold so dear.
She was especially heartbroken to realise he had even put a stop to their little routine, as several days had passed since he last trained in front of her balcony. Whispers and murmurs running down the halls, her only way of knowing the Eliatrope King had seemingly gone back to the training grounds alongside his siblings.
Amalia would be lying if she said she hadn’t been surprised to discover the palace even had training grounds of its own. But that was beside the point.
The point was, the same loneliness she had been feeling soon after her arrival at Oma Island was back, only this time it wasn’t caused by a room she couldn’t quite call her own, but because the one person Amalia thought she could call her friend was nowhere to be seen, and when they were together, it still felt like she was all alone.
Even when she wandered around the palace halls, always crowded with servants and other Eliatropes, it was as if no one was there. No. Worse. If all felt as if she wasn’t there at all.
Was it possible to never be by yourself yet you always felt alone?
Much like the last time she felt like this, Amalia’s one saving grace was getting to explore the palace. It was the only thing she could really do on her own, after all. There was no doubt in her mind she would not be allowed outside again unless Yugo acted as her escort, something she honestly doubted would happen anyway given how the Eliatrope seemed so adamant on keeping her at arm’s length. Surely another day-long field trip would be off the table.
But more than anything, this time around she felt drawn to Glip and Baltazar’s classroom, her feet practically moving on their own accord and taking her in front of the large doors separating her from the Eliatrope siblings and the lessons they imparted behind them. Even if she couldn’t make out half of the things they said, the Divine Doll remained glued to those doors, her ears straining to absorb as much information as possible. It wasn’t mere curiosity anymore, but a genuine desire to learn that was only fuelled by Glip and Baltazar’s way of teaching.
It was incredible how such a little, anger-prone man could imbue such passion into the things he talked about, each phrase that left his mouth helping to craft a perfectly vivid image—when he wasn’t barking out instructions on how to perform a certain move, that is. And Baltazar was always there to add his own two kamas and add the remaining details to the story. When he wasn’t the one giving the lesson, of course. Just by listening to them talk was enough for Amalia to be transported to a whole other world, one she’d never even been to but that already felt like her own—and that was just from listening to a heavily water-down version of those stories!
She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it’d be like to attend one of those classes and get the whole picture for once.
Just then, at the same time as Baltazar was retelling a tale about a time the Council of Six had to step in because a town’s cruel governor had died under mysterious circumstances, only for everyone in his town to insist it had been the town itself that killed him, the true extent of her thought process hit Amalia.
Clenching her fists against the door, her big, brown eyes glinted in determination as her resolve grew. As Yugo explained to her when he asked her if she wanted to go on an adventure around Oma Island, this was now her home, she was entitled to knowing her way around it. And considering she would also be living alongside the Eliatrope people for who knew how long despite being a Sadida Doll, then she figured she also had a right to know more about the race surrounding her. Moreover, if Yugo wasn’t there to help her like he said he would, then she figured she should ask the experts for help.
Then again, Yugo was still the king, while she was ‘just’ a guest—a guest sent there directly by the gods, true, but she probably wouldn’t be able to milk that moogrr forever—, so protocol dictated she asked for his permission first. And so, for the first time since she first discovered her new pastime, Amalia tore herself away from the door even before class had been dismissed. Her step was firm and assured as she walked down the hallways in search of the Eliatrope King, the pants clinging to her skin giving her the mobility she needed. And by Sadida she would get him to listen to her before he tried to evade her yet again!
It was high time she got to attend at least one of Glip and Baltazar’s classes.
........................................................................................................................
She found him just as he exited the throne room. Apparently, he had been listening to his people’s problems and grievances and looking for ways to solve them as quickly and efficiently as possible. Catching the tail-end of a conversation about some issue in particular Yugo couldn’t solve on his own, Amalia learned those kinds of problems were seemingly the ones the entire Council of Six deliberated on.
Not even that much time had passed since she made up her mind about attending class and she was already learning a lot. Amalia chose to count that as a sign she made the right call.
Yugo and Adamaï were immersed in conversation, discussing preliminary ideas on how to approach some of their people’s requests when the sound of someone clearing their throat startled them. It looked like they missed one person, that sometimes happened.
Not even looking at whom he was talking to, Yugo cleared his own throat. “My apologies. I’m afraid I must have not seen you. Tell me, what can I do for you?” When he finally laid his eyes on the person he was talking to, he idly wondered how come he hadn’t seen her.
Despite her resolve to be firm on her request regardless of Yugo’s weird behaviour as of late, any harshness in her gaze vanished at the almost frightened look on the Eliatrope’s face at the sight of her. Trying to ignore the painful pang in her chest at his reaction, Amalia couldn’t help but drape one arm over her abdomen, trying to offer herself some comfort. Her brown gaze turned unsure and evasive, and she kept shifting in place, nervous of the incoming conversation.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally found her voice. “Good morning, Yugo.” She bit her lip as she chanced a look his way. She allowed a small smile to grace her features. “And good morning to you as well, Adamaï.”
While the dragon answered with a nod and a smile of his own, he glanced over at his brother, waiting for his reaction. Finally, Yugo seemed to collect himself, squaring his features into a stoic mask and straightening his posture right before greeting the doll back, “Good morning, Amalia. It’s good to see you.”
The Divine Doll had to bite her lip to stop herself from accusing him of lying to her face. Instead, she said, “Yeah, you too.”
Despite herself, it really wasn’t a lie at all.
However, greetings and small talk only get you so far, a heavy silence falling over the three of them as Yugo and Amalia couldn’t bring themselves to make the first move and speak. Eyes darting back and forth between the two and sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere—the tension was so thick he could’ve cut it with one of his claws—, it was up to Adamaï to awkwardly break the ice.
“Is everything alright, Amalia?” He asked, offering her a small smile to put her at ease.
The green-haired beauty let out an almost inaudible gasp, so consumed by her concerns she almost forgot why she had even come looking for Yugo in the first place. Blinking twice, she had a little trouble finding the words at first, “I-I… Um, well, you see… I…I just wanted to…to ask Yugo something.” She managed to stammer out.
Inside, however, she was groaning in desperation. Not that long ago, conversation with Yugo was as easy as breathing! How come trying to get the words out now was harder than taking a kama from an Enutrof?!
Her confession took the king aback. “R-really? You came all the way here because you wanted to ask me something?” While he did his best to remain nonchalant, deep inside he was bracing himself for the worst. Even if he knew what he was doing was for their own sake, a part of him wasn’t ready to be confronted by Amalia about it.
Not just yet. And, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, maybe not ever.
Which was why he had to do a double take when Amalia admitted instead, “I wish to be able to attend Glip and Baltazar’s classes as a student.” Then, she added, a bit more timidly, “If that’s okay, of course.”
Just as he was about to let out a sigh of relief, the full extent of what the Divine Doll had just asked for hit him. “I’m sorry, you what?”
This time, Amalia stood a little taller, her voice a little clearer as she clenched her fists at her sides in determination. “I want to receive lessons from Glip and Baltazar.” She stated.
The Eliatrope siblings exchanged awkward glances. The implications behind Amalia’s request making them sweat.
“How do you know Glip and Baltazar are teachers?” Adamaï asked.
At that, she grew a little sheepish. A small blush on her cheeks as she fidgeted with her fingers, she looked away. “Well… Um, remember when you asked me why I was always out and about around the palace?”
Both nodded, and even if that conversation had been up to Yugo, Adamaï still remembered quite vividly the very animated council reunion it caused.
“One day, I stumbled across their classroom while class was in session during one of my little escapades.” The doll admitted sheepishly. She thought it’d be better to omit how she had half-listened to one lesson and hadn’t been able to bring herself to stop since.
On the outside, Yugo looked like he was paying rapt attention to what Amalia said, but on the inside he was positively freaking out. Oh, this was bad. Very bad. Amalia wishing to go to class and learn more could result in unforeseeable consequences. Or even worse. It could result in the very consequences Efrim had been so paranoid about—Amalia acting as an undercover agent for the gods and trying to find out their secrets.
The fact that Glip himself wasn’t exactly one of her most ardent supporters only complicated matters.
Already fearing for the worst, Yugo scrambled to find a way to dissuade the Sadida Doll without making it too obvious he didn’t want her to learn more about his people. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
For now, he was off to a terrible start.
If having Adamaï staring owlishly at him wasn’t bad enough, Amalia’s little offended pout only put the last nail on the coffin.
“Why not?” She asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Because…” the Eliatrope began, flashing his brother a pleading look and cursing under his breath when the dragon raised his claws up in a ‘Leave me out of this’ fashion. Resisting the urge to narrow his eyes at his sibling, he finally settled for the teacher’s most prominent flaw. “Because Glip has a terrible temper.” He blurted out, before regaining some confidence. “And he is very strict, too. Trust me, you don’t want to have your marks graded by him. If it were up to him, none of his students would pass unless they studied day and night.”
“But it’s not up to him. Baltazar is also a teacher and they work together.” Amalia pointed out, not missing a beat.
Feeling his eye twitch, Yugo felt the mighty need to scream into a pillow due to her very astute, very accurate observation.
“That’s true, but still, their classes can be very demanding…”
“But I want to learn!” Amalia exclaimed, her eyes big and pleading. “I’m tired of only half-listening to their lessons through closed doors, I want to have the full picture.”
“Wait, how long have you been eavesdropping on them…?” Adamaï tried to ask, but was ignored.
“And that’s commendable, Amalia, really!” Yugo tried to assure her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. A second later, however, upon noticing what he had just done, he tucked it away as fast as if he’d been burned. He was so busy trying to regain some semblance of control, he missed the way the doll’s eyes dimmed at his actions. Or Adamaï’s frown. “It’s just…”
“What?” She cut him off, her tone challenging. “What’s so bad about me wanting to learn more about your people?”
Everything.
So far, Amalia’s curiosity about the world around her had been child-like and innocent, the kind you’d expect from a stranger in a brand new place. The kind of curiosity and wonder he felt for the world around him. But if she started asking questions about his people… Then he would no longer be able to convince his siblings she wasn’t up to something. He wouldn’t be able to convince himself she wasn’t a threat. And even though in the past he’d had no qualms confronting or even getting rid of what he thought might put his people’s safety in jeopardy, for some reason, when it came to Amalia, he couldn’t bear the thought of cutting her off for good.
He blamed his people’s need to get in this world’s gods’ good graces for making him hesitate.
And for making him realise he couldn’t just say he wouldn’t allow her to study with Glip and Baltazar because she couldn’t be trusted.
So he lied through his teeth. “Because only children attend their classes; when Eliatropes reach a certain age, they choose their own path, be it battle, crafts, medicine… Won’t you feel a little uncomfortable being the only adult in a room full of kids?”
“Glip and Baltazar are adults too.” Amalia shrugged, not missing a beat. She raised an eyebrow at him, however. “And didn’t you just say it would be very demanding? If anything, that would only mean it’s closer to my level than the kids’.”
Cursing how easily his words could be turned against him—and making it a point to dig his heel into Adamaï’s foot when he heard him snicker at his misfortune—, Yugo found himself floundering for words. “Well, yeah… But, um… you see… I…”
“Please, Yugo.” She cut him off, her voice desperate. Despite her apprehension and the weird phase their relationship was going through, Amalia mustered up the courage to step a little closer to him, her body leaning in with her hands clasped before her chest. Pleading, begging for him to listen to what she had to say. “You told me it was only natural I learned my way around Oma Island if this is going to be my home from now on. Don’t you think that should apply to your people, too?
“Not only am I a Sadida surrounded by Eliatropes and dragons, I’m the only Divine Doll currently inhabiting this world!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms to her sides to emphasise her point. “I’m going to be living with your people for the gods know how long, much like with the island, I need to know things about you, like your traditions, and what you consider sacred, things I must and mustn’t do… As I am right now, even the little kids Glip and Baltazar teach know so much more than I do! Please, Yugo, please! This isn’t about me just being curious, this is about me needing to learn, for my own sake.”
Her eyes were almost watery when she finished, her voice at the verge of breaking, “Please, tell me you will at least consider it.”
If Yugo was already having a hard time trying to remain firm and put his foot down in the face of Amalia going above and beyond to tug at his heartstrings, Adamaï's disapproving look at his refusal pushed him over the edge. Despite all he had been doing to ensure he wouldn’t get too close to Amalia and she wouldn’t get too close to him, it was plain to see he had much work to do if he wanted to be free of her influence.
Defeated, he drew a deep exhale through his nose. “I’ll ask Glip and Baltazar next time I see them, alright? After all, it’s their class. They have the last say in everything concerning it.”
Her reaction was immediate.
“Really?!” She exploded, her eyes shining like stars in the midnight sky at the good news. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you so much, Yugo!”
The Divine Doll was beyond herself with joy. Sure, she still needed Glip and Baltazar’s permission, but she was already one step closer to her goal! Amalia was so overjoyed, she couldn’t help herself and practically threw herself at Yugo’s arms, the pull to hug him tightly as thanks stronger than she was.
But just as she was about to wrap her arms around him in celebration, she was abruptly stopped by two strong hands resting firmly on her shoulders. Eyes snapping open at the unexpected action, she glanced up, a painful pang in her chest at the sight of Yugo looking supremely uncomfortable as he tried to keep her at bay.
Memories of the last few days rushing back, Amalia quickly took a step back and away from the king. Making a show of dusting off her outfit and willing the blush away from her cheeks, mortified, she cleared her throat. “Um, uh, thank you, Yugo.” She coughed into her hand.
“You’re welcome, Amalia. I’ll see what I can do.” Was Yugo’s equally awkward response, his throat tightening up.
Moving back and forth on the heel of her feet, she eventually pointed behind her. “I… Um, I should probably go. I’m sure you’re quite busy. Uh, thanks again and, you know, see ya! You too Adamaï.”
As the two waved awkwardly at each other, turning around and resolutely making their way to opposite directions of the palace, Adamaï watched it all with a critical eye. As he stared at his brother’s retreating back, replaying what had just taken place as well as the past few days’ events in his mind, the dragon narrowed his eyes.
He had a very bad feeling about this. The kind of feeling that told him Yugo would come to regret whatever he was doing very soon.
........................................................................................................................
“Nope. Absolutely not. Not gonna happen. I forbid it.”
Yugo had half the mind not to slam his head against the table in exasperation. It was one thing that Glip refused to teach Amalia, but his doing so this vehemently, to the point of crossing his arms and deliberately shaking his head to get his point across, was just unnecessary.
It took even more of him not to slam Qilby against the table for what he said next:
“Did anybody else notice all we ever talk about when we meet up as of late is Yugo’s precious flower?” He pointed out, one finger raised and his characteristically smug smirk on his lips.
“Meh, it beats having to listen to you bring up our 97th reincarnation and how Chibi and Grougal’s first spaceship prototype blew up in their faces.” Phaeris shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Luckily for him, it was the aforementioned inventors’ turn to patrol the island, so he wouldn’t get in hot water with them for making fun of their scientific pursuits.
The peeved snarl curling at Qilby’s lip at his dragon brother’s quip was a welcomed reminder as to why Mina and Phaeris were the king’s favourite siblings after Adamaï. While they always knew how to break up their infighting and childish bickering, Phaeris in particular had the added divine gift of always knowing how to get under the bespectacled Eliatrope’s skin.
It really was the sweetest payback after all his relentless teasing.
“That actually happened in our 79th reincarnation and you know it!” Qilby snapped, his hazel eyes narrowing at his brother behind his glasses. On the table, his fists clenched in aggravation even after Shinonomé placed a hand on them to calm her twin down.
“Don’t start up again, you two.” The red dragoness admonished, tired of the same old song and dance. “We have much more urgent matters to attend to, like Lady Amalia’s request.” She reminded them, her tone kind but serious.
“They can spend all day bickering as far as I’m concerned, because I already made my stance on allowing the Divine Doll near any of my classes clear.” Glip groused, his arms still folded over his chest stubbornly as he stuck up his nose in indignation.
They were currently gathered around the Eliaculus at the council room once again, Yugo having called for a meeting as soon as he’d been done listening to his subjects’ grievances for the day. It was something they usually did. Whenever the king was faced with a problem he couldn’t solve on his own, he summoned his siblings at the council room to tackle the issue together and find a solution to it. The fact that this time the reunion also came immediately after Amalia made her request was a very beneficial coincidence for the Sadida Doll.
And a very unfortunate one for Yugo.
“And you’d be wise to refuse her request, Glip.” Efrim chimed in, his long tail curled around his lithe body even as he rested on his chair. Without warning, he jabbed a claw on the table. “It’s one thing we allow her to roam freely around our palace or our island, but letting her learn more about us directly from the source?” He scoffed at the mere thought, before sniffing derisively, “What’s next, sending her to Chibi and Grougal’s laboratory so she can learn how to build a weapon to kill us all? I say we’d better not take any chances.”
Massaging his temples in an attempt to soothe his pounding headache, Yugo bit his lip as to not point out that Chibi and Grougal would actually be ecstatic to have a willing audience as they worked on their projects. Or the fact that, technically speaking, Amalia still wasn’t allowed to leave the palace premises without him, so she couldn’t explore the island freely, either. That would only earn him a glare from Efrim, and he was not in the mood for arguing with him.
“Not only that,” Glip added, nodding along. “My students are young, it already takes everything in my power to get them to pay attention on their worst days, imagine what would happen if the Divine Doll were to join us; my class would fall into anarchy!”
Under the table, Yugo couldn't help but clench his fists until his knuckles turned white at the teacher’s words. Outrage on Amalia’s behalf bubbling up within him. That feeling only got worse at what he said next:
“Besides, even if they are disorganised, they are still my students. We’re very advanced on our syllabus, she would only lag behind.” He let out a low chuckle as he proceeded to examine his cane absentmindedly, as if the mere topic at hand bored him. “Better save her the embarrassment of being the only adult in a group of children who doesn’t know the most basic aspects of Eliatrope society.”
The king knew his brother could be quite brusque and ill-tempered, not to mention arrogant in his own abilities, but the way he was disregarding their guest was simply uncalled for. Amalia did not deserve to be looked down like that when all she wanted to do was learn. Fortunately, before he had the chance to tell Glip any of that, Baltazar mercifully beat him to it:
“The only reason she doesn’t know, Glip, is because she is a Sadida Doll.” The dragon pointed out from his spot behind his sibling, where he rested lying on the floor. “You cannot expect someone so young and from an entirely different culture to immediately know everything about ours, especially if you refuse to teach her.”
Pretending to lower his head in a nod, Yugo took advantage of the way his hood came to cover most of his face to allow a small, grateful smile to plaster itself on his lips. He could always count on Baltazar to reign his twin brother in.
Despite his large size, Baltazar was arguably the least imposing of the Eliatrope dragons. Unlike the rest, who flaunted lithe yet robust forms and an impressive wingspan, Baltazar, much like his twin, was comparatively stumpy. His body was distinctly barrel-shaped, with thick limbs and tail, but stubby wings and horns. Truth be told, more than once the siblings found themselves wondering how they withstood his weight whenever he flew. Their best bet was that it had to be his own special gift.
Baltazar stood out in many other ways as well. His scales were a very light beige, with darker-coloured spots covering his form from head to tail. His snout was as square-shaped as his twin’s face, and the pair also shared their bushy eyebrows, however, unlike Glip’s chesnut-coloured hair and goatee, Baltazar sported a rather unkempt white beard, which gave him a grandfatherly look even back when they were all children.
It wasn’t like the look provided by his beard wasn't appropriate, though, for while Glip could be strict, easy to anger, and very grumpy, Baltazar was much calmer, more patient—especially with the kids—, and very kind. Even if he actually wasn’t the eldest sibling, he really did play the role of grandfather perfectly. So it wasn't a surprise that he was usually the one tasked with reeling his brother’s worst impulses in.
Unfortunately, while his comment gave Glip some pause, he apparently still had much to say.
“Perhaps, dear brother.” The shortest Eliatrope started, his lips pursed. “But precisely because she is from a completely different race, there’s not much I can teach her. Remember? I specialise in teaching Wakfung—I cannot teach someone who doesn’t project wakfu like we do.”
“Thank the Great Goddess for that!” Efrim chimed in sarcastically. “Can you imagine the disaster it would be if she discovered the flaws in our fighting style?”
“Efrim, please. Let’s hear what Baltazar has to say.” Nora whispered to him, almost pleadingly, a hint of concern in her voice. She loved her brother and understood better than anyone his desire to be careful, but she was starting to grow worried over his growing hostility towards Amalia. Each passing day, he sounded less like the brother she so adored and more like a complete stranger.
Purposely ignoring the youngest twins’ conversation, Baltazar pressed on, not missing a beat. “That does not mean she cannot learn about our history or our customs, Brother. You may specialise in Wakfung, but Baltazar doesn't.” Raising one paw from the ground, he proudly pointed between the two of them to emphasise his point.
That was another key difference between the two siblings. While they weren’t above working together to lecture their students on certain topics—in fact, those were arguably their best lessons—, the two had different interests and approaches to their people’s education. Glip was a firm believer that their people should learn how to control their wakfu and defend themselves as soon as possible, hence why he was an expert on Wakfung, their people’s martial art of combining their particular brand of magic with hand-to-hand combat. Meanwhile, Baltazar was the most scholarly of the two, his passion for uncovering and sharing knowledge second only to Qilby and Shinonomé—and only because they had the unfair advantage of retaining everything they learned from their previous lives.
Despite his brother’s best efforts, Glip only shook his head ruefully. “Brother, I’m afraid you’re clearly not seeing the dangers in allowing the Divine Doll in our class. She could endanger the children!”
“Exactly!” Efrim agreed, his tail unfolding just enough for him to stand taller amongst his siblings around the table. “We have yet to determine she is not a threat to us, and with those Cra sentinels from the other day threatening our safety from the outside, we can’t afford to allow the threat to come from inside!”
“Phaeris took care of the Cra, Young One.” The dragon in question was quick to remind his younger brother, never one to let his efforts go unnoticed. He wasn’t called ‘The Powerful’ for nothing. “Phaeris intercepted them before they could get too close to the island.”
“The mere fact that they came all the way here is suspicious enough.” Efrim shot back ominously, his eyes narrowing menacingly.
“Efrim is right.” Glip agreed, not for the first time. At this point, Yugo was inclined to believe the two had formed an Anti Amalia Club or something behind their backs and this was all rehearsed. “Our people are vulnerable as is, we can’t afford the risk of letting the Divine Doll uncover our secrets!” In his disbelief, the Wakfung master stomped on the floor with his cane, the resounding thud! echoing around the council room. He shook his head ruefully. “I simply do not understand why you and Yugo are so intent on letting her attend our class.”
While Baltazar remained impassive even in the face of his twin’s outburst, Yugo was having a hard time trying not to squirm out of his chair and tear Glip a new one. The worst part was he didn’t even understand his own behaviour! This was what he wanted; for Glip to reject Amalia’s request so she wouldn’t have access to their secrets and end up proving his distrusting siblings right about her. For all intents and purposes, he should be siding with Glip and Efrim on this one! He had tried dissuading her of her goal not even an hour ago!
This—was—what—he—wanted!
And yet, the moment his siblings started accusing Amalia, claiming she only had ulterior motives rather than a genuine interest in their culture or, even worse, that there was no point in trying to teach her anything, it all made his blood boil. His fingers clutching at the fabric of his cloak as he tried to keep himself in check, he bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. And he stubbornly refused to meet Adamaï’s eyes because he knew his brother would be able to tell he was quite bothered by everything that was taking place and he did not want to give him the satisfaction.
Again, it was Baltazar who voiced the king’s thoughts—although the heavily revised and edited version of them. “Lady Amalia is our guest and has expressed an interest in learning more about us. Many would wish to have the same opportunity.”
“Perhaps, but surely those people have a lot more to gain from the experience than us.” Glip replied stubbornly, glancing up at his brother and raising an eyebrow, as if daring the dragon to refute him.
It seemed as if he had underestimated the old scholar, for he simply smiled down at him. “Just like Lady Amalia wishes to know more about us, we could take this opportunity to learn more about Sadida.” Yugo and Adamaï were taken aback when Baltazar’s tired gaze rested on them. “After all, just the other day, Yugo and Adamaï discovered Sadidas’ connection to nature is so deep, they feel pain if plants are damaged. That is valuable information.”
“Indeed. I’ll make sure to apologise next time I make myself a salad.” Glip deadpanned.
Yugo had had enough. His siblings’ attitude towards Amalia had long moved past simple wariness to outright disrespect. If they wished to eventually live in peace with the other races populating the World of Twelve, that kind of behaviour would simply not do.
So he told Glip as such.
“While I understand your concerns, Glip,” that wasn’t a lie, he had been genuinely worried upon hearing Amalia’s request. “We mustn’t waste a perfect opportunity like this one. Who knows when the next one will present itself?”
“‘Perfect opportunity’?” Efrim echoed, mockery dripping from his tone. “To what, draw a target on our backs that says, ‘Come and get us!’?”
“To be one step ahead.” Yugo smirked when that finally got a reaction from the members attending, though not before sending Nora a look telling her to please control her brother.
“What do you mean by that, Yugo?” It was Mina who spoke. Much like Shinonomé, for the most part she had chosen not to intervene. After all, at least this time their conversation was more like an animated debate than a heated argument on its way to becoming a fist fight.
“If the gods have truly sent Amalia to spy on us and learn our weaknesses, then let’s turn that into an advantage!” He finally stood up from his chair, his aching body ever grateful for the small respite—how come Chibi and Grougal could successfully lead the construction of an entire settlement in record time, and yet they couldn’t choose comfortable furniture for one of the rooms they’d be spending the most time in?
He leaned closer to the table, his hands resting on it as he made his point. “The gods said Amalia was sent here as a sign of good will, and yet, we haven’t treated her as such since she arrived! I say we play their game and beat them at it.”
Glip couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He loved and respected Yugo both as his brother and his king, but it was clear all logical thought escaped him whenever his little doll was concerned. And seeing as Adamaï wasn’t much help at the moment, it was up to him and Efrim to get their ruler to see reason.
“That’s all great and all, but what does any of that have to do with the Divine Doll attending my class?”
He certainly hadn’t been expecting Yugo’s answer:
“It’ll help us set the right example.” He smirked, his brown eyes glinting excitedly at his own idea. With the same amount of energy, he made a sweep around the table with his eyes, purposely drawing his siblings’ attention to him. “If we hope to live in peace with the Twelvians, then we should know each other’s history, culture, and traditions. And what better way to start than by having a Divine Doll learn all about ours?
“In turn, I’m sure Amalia will be delighted to let us know whatever we want about her, her sisters, and maybe even their father. After all, she had no qualms showing vulnerability when I accidentally hurt her—if she truly were here as our enemy, she would show no weakness of any kind, especially if it can be exploited.”
At that, the attending members of the Council of Six began to deliberate, murmurs of agreement echoing around the walls as Yugo watched it all, a supremely self-satisfied grin on his face.
“It is true Amalia’s presence and the knowledge she can provide us with could be a huge help in ensuring the Sadida’s trust, at the very least.” Nora pointed out, her thumb and index finger holding her chin pensively. Even Efrim had to agree with her statement.
“Only because you won’t allow me to examine her.” Qilby complained with a sulky roll of his eyes. “Had you let me study her when I first suggested it, we would have all the answers by now!”
“We are not going to experiment on her, Qilby!” The entirety of the Council of Six (sans Chibi and Grougal, of course) roared in abject horror at their brother’s insistence, even Efrim and Glip. Just because they didn’t trust the Sadida Doll, it didn’t mean they trusted Qilby with her, either.
“You never let me do anything…” The bespectacled Eliatrope mumbled. With a sigh, Shinonomé began to gently rub his arm up and down for comfort.
“As Yugo said, Lady Amalia’s presence is supposed to be a sign of good will. It is high time we treated her as such.” Baltazar sentenced, putting an end to that particular topic. Despite his calm features, he sent his twin a very pointed look, clearly expecting him to be the voice of dissent once again.
For his part, even as he was still sulking in his chair, Glip perked up at his brother’s not-so-subtle stare. Despite himself, he let his eyes wander around his siblings, gauging their reactions. He had to bite the inside of his cheek when everyone was looking at him expectantly. He could feel a vein about to pop—he hated when they all ganged up on him like that!
After what felt like an eternity, the Wakfung master let out a long-suffering sigh that gradually turned into a groan. Rubbing his eyes in frustration and exhaustion, he asked, “You’re not gonna leave me alone until I give in, are you?”
Their shaking heads in unison was all the answer he needed, and the one he was dreading the most.
“Fine.” He ended up saying, although very reluctantly. “The doll can come to our class, but she’d better not fall behind! If she does, I’m not lifting a finger to help her!”
His threat lost a good amount of impact when Baltazar piped up, “Worry not. Baltazar will make sure to help her with whatever she may need.”
Glip sent his brother the stink-eye. “You just love undermining my authority, don’t you?”
Even with his imposing girth, Baltazar managed to shrug, an all-too-innocent smile on his snout as he looked down at his brother.
Glip’s scowl deepened. “The only reason you care about the doll being in our class is because that way you might learn a lot about her people, isn’t it?”
Baltazar’s smile didn’t falter.
While the masters bickered, Yugo let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, letting himself slump on his chair. A small, tired smile made its way to his features. At least that would make Amalia happy.
.........................................................................................................................
Amalia had a hard time remaining still as she waited for class to start. Well, technically, that wasn’t true. She could already hear the children’s animated chatter from behind the doors, she was only waiting for Baltazar to announce her arrival so the kids wouldn’t be too surprised at the sight of the famed Sadida Doll sent to their king going to class with them. As she waited for her cue, she kept rocking herself back and forth on the ball of her feet, her hands tapping rhythmically against her thighs.
Since she had never been to the other side, she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Would they all sit on the floor forming a ring around their teachers? Would they have individual desks and chairs? Maybe benches? Either way, the doll didn’t feel like taking any chances and settled for her adventuring outfit and the low-risk her pants provided. Maybe she wasn’t out and about seeing the world, but she was about to have her first day of class. If that wasn’t an adventure, she didn’t know what was.
She certainly felt more nervous now than she did when Yugo took her to the beach.
Her excitement dimmed slightly at the thought of the king. She hadn’t seen him since she made her request; he had even sent Adamaï to inform her of the good news rather than doing it himself. Amalia really didn’t know what had got into him, but she was starting to grow really sick and tired of feeling so helpless. Next time she got the chance, she was going to give that elusive monarch a piece of her mind.
Feeling all fired up, her fists clenched close to her chest determinedly, the Divine Doll almost jumped right out of her skin at the unexpected deep, gruff voice coming from down below.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not like this because you happen to find my brother’s customary greeting to the children riveting?”
Amalia didn’t need to even know who was talking to know their words were dripping with sarcasm. Then again, she was perfectly aware of whom the voice belonged to; she had listened to him talk far too many times not to be able to recognise him.
With a blink, she glanced down to her side and, lo and behold, there he was, Glip, the Eliatrope children’s Wakfung master. The doll still had no idea what Wakfung even was, but she had a feeling it might have been some sort of martial art given whenever it was time to teach it she would only hear battle cries and instructions like ‘Aim your portal a little higher’ or ‘Alternate between beam and kick’ coming from the other side.
As her brown gaze met Glip’s dark scowl, the doll could feel herself sweatdrop, an awkward laugh all she could muster at the moment. She knew he was harsh from listening in on his lessons, and the few times they crossed paths in the halls were almost as frightening as doing so with Efrim, but now that she found herself under the true fire of his gaze, Amalia felt scrutinised. Like he was already grading one of her tests.
And what was worse, like she failed said test.
A heavy silence stretched over them after his words, and Amalia had half the mind not to beg her father to suck her up in one of their divine portals or whatever they used to communicate with the World of Twelve and get her out of this situation. But then she remembered how much she wanted to be on the other side, and how much she begged Yugo for this and she changed her mind. Even if she was still mad at him for how weird he was being, Yugo definitely delivered.
It was thanks to him she was even allowed to study their people’s history and culture, the least she could do was remain strong in the face of adversity.
A sense of newfound vigour coursing through her veins, she clenched her fists discreetly to give herself some courage. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she addressed the Primordial Eliatrope that would be her teacher from now on, “It’s an honour to finally meet you—.”
“Rule Number 1: don’t talk in class unless you’ve been given permission after raising your hand.” He cut her off, not even looking her way.
Amalia blinked, taken by surprise. “But… we’re not even in class yet…”
He ignored her. “Rule Number 2: pay attention in class.” And with that and without looking back even once, he turned the doorknob and let himself inside, the children all quieting down and greeting their teacher at the sight of him.
Flabbergasted and not sure what to do, Amalia was about to open her mouth when she could finally make out Baltazar’s voice from the other side:
“From now on, children, a very special guest will join our class.” He started, the kind tone of his voice a stark contrast to his twin’s gruffness. “Apparently, she’s shown remarkable interest in our people, even if she is unfamiliar with our customs. That is why we must be patient and understanding of her situation. And without further ado, let’s all give a warm welcome to our new student: Lady Amalia!”
That was her cue. Taking one last deep breath to steady herself, Amalia copied Glip’s actions. She grabbed a hold of the doorknob and turned it, finally opening the door to new experiences, both literally and figuratively, and entered the room, though not before closing her eyes in slight apprehension.
When her arrival was met with an eerie silence, the Sadida Doll finally mustered up the courage to open one eye experimentally. Only for both of them to snap open in shock at the sight before her. Her brown gaze clocked in on the vast expanse of space inside, sandstone pillars lining up the mural-covered walls, only this time, it was clear to see the paintings were meant to reflect what took place inside the room—schematic designs of Glip and Baltazar were constantly surrounded by smaller Eliatropes as they either studied, played, or made portals; the little ones they were meant to raise and teach.
In the background she could make out a lot of equipment, such as safety nets, hoops, mats, and even what looked like small arenas. In fact, a quick glance upwards was all it took for the Sadida Doll to notice there was actually a large safety net, tied around the four sturdiest pillars, going from one side of the room to the other, right below the ceiling. Although Amalia had the impression there was a patch of space where the ropes seemed more worn out than the rest, but she had no time to dwell much on it. It was all very impressive to see, but she had no idea what it was even for.
Another thing that caught her eye was how each wall separated by a column had a porthole. On paper, it was only natural that a room full of children would have windows, so the space could be bathed in natural light. What wasn’t so natural, however, was how the landscape seemed to change from one porthole to the next. Okay, she hadn’t been on Oma for long, but she would have sensed the lack of vegetation typical from an honest-to-the-gods desert.
Once again, Baltazar’s warm voice broke her out of her musings, “Kids, Lady Amalia here is a Divine Doll. Much like we descend from the Great Goddess Eliatrope, she was created by this world’s god of nature, Sadida. She is here as our guest, so Baltazar hopes you will make her feel welcomed.”
The dragon’s words caused a small gasp to leave her lips. Of course, the children! She had been so busy observing the interior of the room she had completely overlooked to get a good look at Yugo’s youngest subjects.
What she found was so adorable Amalia had to bite her lip hard to keep herself from squealing loud enough to shatter their weird-looking windows.
Staring back at her, awe in their eyes, were dozens of little children, boys and girls, of all ages. From a distance, she could make out the similarities between them, and was momentarily taken aback by how much they all looked like Yugo. Technically, that shouldn’t have been surprising, as her father had once explained to her that a god's followers would all inherit some key characteristics from them, making their people look somewhat homogeneous. However, seeing as the Eliatrope members of the Council all had very distinctive features, such as slightly different hair colours, she had not been prepared to come face to face with a group of children all sporting Yugo’s exact same shade of dirty blond hair, slightly tanned skin, and dark brown eyes.
Then, there was their clothing. While the Eliatrope King always wore his blue battlesuit and cloak, the Eliatrope children all wore much more appropriate outfits for their age. Shirts, pants, dresses, skirts… And yet, wherever she looked, all she could see were large, eared hats whose colour matched the rest of their clothes. Unlike the members of the Council and their varied colour scheme, most kids wore yellow or a light orange, though they were a few exceptions wearing green, blue, or even white, too.
Which was another surprise in itself since the only other Eliatropes Amalia had come in contact with besides Yugo and the Council members had been the elite guards and servants working inside the palace. And they all wore light purple robes that covered the entirety of their bodies except for their eyes.
As she met the little ones’ awestruck expressions with one of her own and a small smile, Amalia realised with a start this was her first time ever seeing children. A warm sensation spread over her chest; they were simply precious.
“Hi, there.” She finally said, offering the kids a small, friendly wave.
And with that simple gesture, chaos ensued.
In what felt like a split-second, the doll had dozens of children surrounding her, looking up at her with starry-eyed expressions. Looking back and forth between all of them, Amalia felt like her head was about to explode with the cacophony of sounds assaulting her ears.
“She’s so pretty!”
“Why is your hair green?”
“Is it true what the adults say? You’re really here to marry King Yugo?”
“Are you really a doll? You don’t look like a doll.”
“Do you really not know anything about us?”
“Can you do any cool Sadida tricks?”
“Oh, yes! Please, do something cool, like-like, growing a huge tree from the ground!”
As the Divine Doll was being bombarded with questions, the uneasy smile on her face doing nothing to hide how overwhelmed she felt, Baltazar and Glip were watching the scene. But while the beige dragon was staring at it fondly, the Wakfung master had his arms over his chest and a surly look on his face.
“Look at that,” He scoffed. “Not even five minutes in and she’s already driven our kids crazy! I knew it was a bad idea to let her in…”
Baltazar just rolled his eyes. “Please, Glip, they’re children. Baltazar has seen them lose focus on class because they saw a bird through one of the portals. How did you expect them to react at the sight of the Divine Doll everyone’s been talking about?”
“I maintain her presence is only going to be a huge distraction for the children and a waste of time for us.”
Knowing it would take his brother a while before he finally let go of his reservations about Amalia, Baltazar simply walked back to their lectern. Though, to be completely honest, it was just a plain old rock gorged in wakfu where Glip liked to stand above their students as he taught the lesson. The shortest Eliatrope liked to claim it was so all their students could see him without having to worry about the tallest ones getting in the shorter ones’ way, but they all knew better. They just chose not to comment on it.
Taking pity on the poor divine creature attending their class that day, the dragon cleared his throat. ���Very well, children. Baltazar knows you are all very excited to meet Lady Amalia, and she will love to answer all your questions but first, today’s lesson.”
At the sound of their disappointed whimpers and whines, he sent his Eliatrope twin a look, reminding him of his cue. “Alright, alright, settle down! You can’t be playing all the time! If we could, this wouldn’t be a class but a playground. Come on, around us!”
At Glip’s instructions, the kids looked more than a little dejected, and Amalia’s eyes widened at the sight of the ears on their hats drooping. But she didn’t have much time to dwell on that, for she suddenly found herself being dragged to the centre of the room by a little hand. Looking down in surprise, she came face to face with a smiling Eliatrope girl that wore her hair in pigtails under an orange hat.
“C’mon, m’Lady. You can sit with me.” She said as she led the doll to the centre of the room, where the other children were already beginning to sit down around their teachers.
“Oh! Uh, thank you, um…”
“My name is Lori.” She giggled cutely as she finally took her place, causing Amalia to smile as she followed suit.
“Nice to meet you, Lori—.”
“Don’t go thinking that just because you’re a guest you’re exempt from the classroom rules, you hear me?” Glip’s gruff, chiding voice interrupted her. Looking up at him, she couldn’t help but gulp at the glare he was sending her way. “In case you already forgot, the very first rule is that you cannot talk in class until you are given permission. And that’s only after you’ve raised your hand for said permission. Are we clear?”
Amalia didn’t know what to feel. Not because he was scolding her for breaking a rule, or anything like that. He was right in that sense; just because she was a guest, that didn’t mean she was above following the rules like everyone else. No. What caught her eye was the fact that, technically, Lori had broken that rule too, yet he was only reprimanding her. With a shake of her head, she chose to let it go. She didn’t want to be the kind of person who got mad because a child wasn’t being yelled at instead of her.
That was just wrong on so many levels.
“Yes, sir.” She ended up saying instead, though a part of herself couldn’t help but pray to Sadida she hadn’t made the same mistake.
Glip just regarded her with an unreadable expression, his hold on his cane tightening. Thankfully, no, she didn’t make the same mistake.
“The appropriate title is Master Glip.”
She just made another one.
And with that, Glip turned around, stuck his cane between one of the wakfu-filled cracks going up and down the large stone in the middle of the room and levered himself up to the top in one swift motion, landing on his feet even as he somersaulted in the air.
Amalia’s jaw hit the floor. Although she was quick to shut her mouth, seeing as the children around her remained unperturbed by the Primordial Eliatrope’s display. Maybe that was a common occurrence?
Back to Glip, now that he was up on his rock, he stomped his cane against it three times to ensure he had everyone’s attention. Once everyone’s eyes were fixed on him—even the doll’s—, he explained in a booming voice:
“For those of you who don’t know,” he sent the Divine Doll a condescending look, “today’s lesson will be mixed. The first half will be spent studying Eliatrope History with Baltazar, while we will be working on the katas we learned last time after practicing on our own for a bit during the second half. Are there any questions?”
The Wakfung master had to suppress the urge to groan in exasperation when he saw the doll’s hand raised. If it weren’t for Baltazar flashing him a warning glare, he would have pretended not to see and continued with the lesson as if nothing had happened.
“Yes?” He pointed at her with his cane, derision laced with his tone despite his best efforts.
“Um, sorry, but what’s a kata?” Amalia asked a little sheepishly, tucking a strand of her forest-green hair behind her ear when the children around her giggled at her question. Funny how she was being laughed at and that still felt a lot less judgemental than how Glip was treating her.
His only response was a smirk. “You’ll see.” Then, out of nowhere, he clasped his hands as he gestured to his dragon twin. “The floor’s all yours, Baltazar.”
For his part, Baltazar’s expression was rather cold even as he stared back at his brother. He would definitely have a word with him over his treatment of Amalia after class was over. But first:
“Thank you, Glip.” Even his tone was icy as he addressed his twin. Then, it softened considerably as he focused back on the kids. “Today’s a very special day, children. Since this is Lady Amalia’s first day, how about we show her how much we’ve learned so far? Any volunteers to share our last lesson?”
It didn’t take long for the reaction he had been dreading to be sparked. As soon as those words left his mouth, all children present seemed to shrink on themselves, the few of them that were closest to a bewildered Amalia scooted over to the Divine Doll as if she could offer them some cover from the terrible fate that was being asked to repeat a lesson aloud.
He had to count the fact that none of them had tried to create a portal to run away yet as a success.
He waited a few minutes, but eventually gave up with a sigh as none of the children could even look him in the eye. He understood between Yugo and Adamaï’s adventures and Glip’s teachings, their people’s history might not look as appealing, but it was still worth learning. Knowledge could open the door to so many new experiences and even help you perfect things you already knew, just as it helped you avoid making the same mistakes again. And Baltazar knew the children paid attention in his classes, if only they weren’t so afraid of speaking up.
“Looks like you’ll have to take it from the top again, Brother.” Glip sent him a compassionate look, knowing how much this meant to him.
“Baltazar would say so, yes.” With a tired smile, he opened up his mouth, ready to begin… Only to be interrupted by Amalia raising her hand yet again. Arching one bushy eyebrow, he asked, “Yes, Lady Amalia? Is everything alright? Forgive Baltazar, but he cannot understand how you can have a question already since he has yet to say a word.”
Slowly, Amalia lowered her hand and brought it to her chest, a small blush colouring her cheeks. “Oh! Um, no. I mean, it’s not exactly a question, but… more of a request, actually?”
The twins exchanged confused glances. “A request?”
“This isn’t a ball where you can just ask the band to play a song, you know?” Glip quipped harshly, eyes narrowed on the doll.
“Oh, no! It’s nothing like that!” Amalia immediately tried to defend herself, shaking her hands in front of her body.
“Then what is it you’re… requesting?” Baltazar asked again after a pause.
“I was just wondering, since you intend to review everything for my sake—which you have my sincerest thanks for—, if you could start with the construction of the Zenith?”
The twins’ eyes widened like saucers at her words. And they weren’t the only ones, for the kids had all turned to stare at Amalia, their surprise evident on their faces. Meanwhile, all sorts of alarms went off in Glip’s mind as he readied himself to attack if need be. “How do you know about that?” He questioned, his tone dangerously low.
Her blush deepened. Her hands clutching at the fabric of her pants nervously, she finally admitted. “Well, the thing is… I just never got to hear the whole story.”
Wait, what?
“What do you mean?” It was Baltazar who asked, his tone as kind as ever, albeit cautious.
“I’ve been listening to your classes for a while now, and I’ve always been enchanted by the way you retell everything that happened.” She confessed, her voice growing in confidence the more she spoke. Soon, even her gestures and expressions were becoming more animated. “It’s incredible! The way you can just… transport me to another world! It feels like I’m there! Especially when the both of you teach the lesson. It’s just… just… amazing.”
Glip’s eyebrows shot up at that, pleasantly surprised despite himself. That had to be the highest praise they’d received in a while, and to think it came from the Divine Doll… At the thought of her, the Wakfung master shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t grow soft now, not after what she’d just said.
“But why do you want to learn about the Zenith in specific?”
She grew embarrassed again, her fingers fidgeting on her lap. “Because I never got to hear the full story. I know certain things, but not everything.”
“Wait!” This time, the three adults had their attention drawn to the children. It had been Jeré, one of the oldest ones whose bangs covered his eyes, who spoke. “You’ve never heard the full story?” His jaw dropped when all Amalia could do was shake her head. “But it’s so awesome!”
“Do you really don’t know about it?” Another kid, a little girl named Jamille, pressed on, turning around to face the doll properly.
Amalia smiled kindly at them. “I know some things. Like how Chibi and Grougaloragran are the Eliatropes’ greatest inventors and the only thing they hadn’t been able to master yet was how to go beyond your world─something not even your portals could achieve.”
The first time she heard the story, Amalia’s curiosity had been picked once again by the mention of their world. She still wasn’t fully aware of what they meant by that or why they would be in the World of Twelve if they already had a home of their own, but she chose to keep that bit for later. Right now, she was far too enchanted by the children’s awed grins.
“Yes, that’s right!” Jeré nodded enthusiastically. “They kept researching for decades, but they just couldn’t get it right!”
“For the longest time, they tried creating a special kind of portal that would lead us away from our world, but that plan failed because our portals can’t work unless we’re close enough to our destination or we at least know it by heart.” A girl with fluffy bangs added.
“And-and, and no one knowed what was outside of home, so it didn’t work.” Amalia almost died when what looked to be the youngest kid present shily spoke next. He was so cute! With his little wabbit onesie and those puffy cheeks she so desperately wanted to pinch!
Once her cuteness-induced high was under control, however, their words registered in her mind. Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape at the realisation that that had been the reason Yugo hadn’t been able to teleport them directly to the beach when they went out. Now she felt a little bad for snapping at him and Adamaï, but it was a little hard being unfailingly nice after throwing your stomach’s contents on a poor, unsuspecting bush!
She was brought back to the class when another kid continued on with the tale. “In the end, they realised what they needed wasn’t for us to be able to create that kind of portal, but to be able to leave. Period!”
“So they decided to build this huge and super cool machine where we would all fit and we could use to travel around the Krozmos!” Another kid noted.
Little by little, the rest of the class grew in confidence too. All of them taking turns to tell everything they knew to the Sadida Doll, who hanged onto every word with rapt attention.
As this was all taking place, Baltazar and Glip could only look on, astonished, their mouths millimetres away from touching the floor. And while the dragon’s shocked expression eventually settled into an extremely pleased smile, Glip had yet to recover. It was simply unbelievable! For some reason, the doll had single-handedly managed to encourage the kids to repeat their lessons aloud, a feat that took considerable effort from him and Baltazar to achieve. And yet, there she was, listening intently as their students bombarded her with information.
Somehow, it was even more surprising to find out the doll had indeed been paying attention to the lesson whenever it was that she eavesdropped on them. Whenever the children got a fact wrong, if it just so happened she had been able to listen to that particular part of the story, she would kindly correct them in a way that wouldn’t make them feel bad about it.
Glip… really didn’t know what to think.
Eventually, he was snapped out of his trance by Lori finishing off the story by throwing her hands up in the air triumphantly, her classmates mimicking her actions with matching enthusiasm. In response, the doll simply clapped with a warm smile on her face.
“Thank you so much, you guys. I’m learning so much already!” She gently rubbed the heads of the two kids closest to her, Lori and a little boy whose name she didn’t know. She couldn’t help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the way they made sure their hats remained in place even after her caresses. “And it’s plain to see you know your stuff too!”
At the little, playful wink she sent them, the Eliatrope children couldn't help the beaming smiles from forming on their faces, basking in the beautiful doll’s praise. Boy, their king sure was lucky to have such a cool girlfriend!
Chuckling fondly at the scene—and allowing a supremely satisfied smirk to curl at his lips at the sight of his discombobulated brother—, Baltazar cleared his throat to bring everyone’s attention back at him. “Very well, children. Lady Amalia is right; you sure know a lot! Balthazar is very proud of you all. But, as we all know, just like there’s always something new to be learned, it is also good to remember what we already know so we never forget. Which is why Baltazar will be telling you about our people’s origins.”
Despite that being a story they all knew by heart, it was still one of the children’s favourites, so they all eagerly leaned in to better listen to what the dragon had to say. Amalia in particular was awestruck at the revelation. She had been wondering exactly the same thing since practically her birth. She really didn’t know much, just that the Eliatropes descended from the Great Goddess Eliatrope so they clearly didn’t worship any of the gods her father was a member of. But she had no idea how they ever came to be or why their goddess wasn’t a part of the Twelvians’ pantheon. So, much like the children, she leaned in, her head resting on her propped up arms, ready to learn.
Normally, Glip would have argued sharing that particular story around the Divine Doll would have been foolish, as it would have compromised some very delicate information regarding their people. But when he and Baltazar had been prepping the lesson before class, the two twins actually discussed the subject at length. While the Eliatrope had been firmly against it at first, his dragon brother eventually managed to convince him by raising the very valid point that Amalia had been born in Inglorium, surrounded by this world’s gods. She was most likely already aware of their origin! So he acquiesced and relented, allowing Baltazar to do as he pleased.
If anything, maybe hearing their version of the story would be enough to convince the doll not to sell them out to her nature-loving father and his friends. It was unlikely, but for once Glip dared to hope.
“Long, long ago,” Baltazar began, his incredibly talented storyteller voice enrapturing his students with just a few words. “There was nothing. Everything was darkness. Things such as planets, the concept of time, or the very Krozmos itself didn’t exist. In fact, the only things that did exist were two very different essences: wakfu, the source of all life; and stasis, the energy of destruction.
“Two divine beings represented these energies; the Great Goddess Eliatrope was the source of all wakfu, whereas the Great Dragon was the source of all stasis. These two opposite forces, being the only living creatures in the whole wide universe, fell in love. Guided by their feelings, they were joined in a dance from which the Krozmos was born, and with it, life could thrive before parting from the material world, thus continuing the two lovers’ dance—existence became a balance between life and death.”
Amalia found herself completely captivated by the dragon’s tale. She remembered her father briefly mentioning the existence of stasis and how it was opposite from wakfu, which was crucial for the survival of their people, even if he didn’t have the time to dwell much on that; but she was sure he had never mentioned the Great Dragon, let alone how the Krozmos came to be thanks to him and the Eliatrope Goddess. She brought her legs close to her chest, looking forward to knowing what happened next.
As he retold the events that took place aeons ago, Baltazar paced around the room at a leisurely stride. His little wings fluttered in delight at the sight of his fascinated class, even Amalia looked positively enchanted by his tale. And the way even the most unruly kids had yet to misbehave, sneaking discreet glances the doll’s way, made him appreciate having her in his class.
Apparently, she was a good influence on the kids.
“But that is not all that they did.” He shook his head, as if the mere idea was ludicrous. “Shortly after they created the Krozmos, the two lovers found each other once more. Much like the first time, they were joined in a dance, only this time they created life on a considerably smaller, but not any less magnificent scale.” Abruptly, he stopped pacing. He sat down on the floor as he regarded the children all seriously, before a small smirk graced his features. “Tell me, children, what did they create this time?”
The response was immediate. All students present but Amalia—who could only look around in surprise—exclaimed in perfect unison, “They created the six Dofus Eliatropes!”
“That’s right.” Baltazar chuckled, satisfied. “And from each Dofus a set of twins was born. Each of them were granted a special gift they were meant to use for the sake of the people they would lead. Hence, the Council of Six, composed of the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragon siblings was born!”
Amalia’s surprised gasp was drowned out by the sound of the children cheering and applauding, clearly delighted with the story. But as the kids celebrated and Baltazar went on about how it was their duty as their leaders to look out for their people in each reincarnation—wait, so they were that kind of demigods, too?! But the only demigods she knew could reincarnate were Ecaflip’s children, and even they only had nine lives… She would have to store that information away for later, lest her head would explode—, Amalia’s brain clocked in on what he’d said about him and his siblings.
Being a demigoddess herself, Amalia was aware of the fact that her divine parentage made her special, moreover, many would agree her case in specific made her even more exceptional. After all, unlike the other gods, who needed to mate with mortal partners to bear offspring, she and her sisters had been conceived single-handedly by Sadida himself. The Leafy God had created them out of practically nothing, using a fragment of his supreme power to bring each and everyone of his daughters to life. Therefore, by virtue of not possessing mortal blood, they were almost as godly as any other deity, hence why they were allowed in Inglorium.
At least, that was what her father and sisters told her.
And yet, Yugo and his siblings and their origins managed to be even more staggering. Whereas Sadida’s Dolls had been created by the god of nature’s sole intervention, the Eliatropes had been born from the union of their patron goddess and the Great Dragon. They were descended from two gods!
Wait, if that was the case, could they even be considered demigods? She wondered idly.
Even as Amalia struggled trying to understand what it all meant, a wayward thought materialised in her brain, effectively taking her mind off such matters as she made a vital connection. That at least explained how it was possible that each set of twins hatching from their respective Dofus comprised an Eliatrope child and a dragon.
A part of the doll was rather relieved to be able to put that mystery to rest.
Before she could dwell on the matter any longer, however, the sound of Glip stomping his cane against the floor drew everyone’s attention back to him. “Well, that concludes today’s history lesson, children. Thank Master Baltazar for everything and go over the training grounds. Today’s training session is going to be intense.”
...................................................................................................................
Though confused at first by the Eliatrope teacher’s instructions, much like she’d done at the beginning of Baltazar’s lesson, Amalia decided to follow the children’s lead. Letting herself be dragged by Lori as she and the other kids resumed their questioning of her—and struggling slightly to keep up—, the green-haired beauty stood slack-jawed upon being led to the training grounds.
Suddenly all that equipment and safety nets she’d seen when she entered the classroom made a lot more sense.
Her awe only grew as Glip instructed the kids on what they’d be doing that day and divided them in groups, pointing at the areas each group would train at with his cane right before telling the children to disperse. As she remained where she was, glued to her spot, the doll’s big brown eyes kept darting back and forth between the little ones. Some of them were trying to execute a complicated set of movements, their efforts focused on combining traditional hand-to-hand combat with the use of their wakfu. Another group consisting of the youngsters were trying to conjure up portals, their little hands glowing blue but not achieving much else. And finally, the group little Lori belonged to was up high in the ceiling, using their portals to move from one place to another and landing safely on the net hanging over her head whenever they failed. If she had to guess, Amalia would say these groups were actually skill levels, going from beginners, intermediate level, and advanced level.
She met Lori’s shy wave from up above with one of her own and smiled kindly up at her. Even so, despite how interesting this all was, Amalia couldn’t help but feel a little out of place just standing there with nothing to do.
Looking to her side, she found Glip watching his students with a careful eye, his gaze never leaving them. Despite being a huge grump and more than a little condescending, Amalia had to admit he was at least a caring and responsible teacher. Even if that aspect of his personality was directed at anyone but her.
Mustering up all her courage by taking one deep breath, the Divine Doll made her way over to him, careful not to ruin his concentration as he kept an eye on the children. Every now and then he would yell some kind of instruction or piece of advice for them to follow, and Amalia was proud to say she only flinched slightly each time that startled her.
Hiding her hands behind her back as a clear sign of her nervousness, she tried to say, “Um…Master Glip?”
He didn’t even look at her, just grunted, “What is it?”
“Uh, well, I was just wondering… Is this supposed to be Wakfung?” She gestured at the training session taking place.
Even though he had yet to look her way, Glip was starting to regret not sending the doll away when his part of the lesson started and he had the chance. Ironically, he had been so distracted keeping an eye on her and the chaos her presence could ensue, he had forgotten all about her by the time it was his turn to take the reins. Well, thankfully, it wasn’t like she’d be able to gather much intel from watching the kids’ training session. Neither of them were ready yet to try out for becoming guards-in-training, which meant their technique had yet to be fully polished. She would not be able to do much harm with non-perfected moves.
That didn’t mean he shouldn’t be careful, however. “You could say that, yes.” At first, his voice remained impassive, until he grew impatient. “What about it?”
“Nothing, it’s just…” She trailed off, almost too afraid to ask.
“Well…?” The Eliatrope urged her, still not looking at her.
“I suppose I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She finally admitted.
“What you’re supposed to do? Whatever does that mean?”
Amalia shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean, aren’t I here to learn? I’m not really sure what to do when my magic doesn’t work like yours.” As she said that, her eyes trailed back up to Lori. She had noticed how she hadn’t been as eager to jump through portals like her classmates, and she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at the sight. “Is there a way I can learn Wakfung without… you know… being an Eliatrope?”
That made him look back at her in surprise, his eyes wide like saucers. However, that was nothing compared to the shiver that ran down her spine when he began to laugh, the sound effectively causing most children to stop doing their respective activities to watch the scene. Even Baltazar looked down at his twin in surprise right before exchanging slightly alarmed glances with Amalia.
After what felt like an awkwardly long amount of time, Glip finally quieted down. Wiping a tear off his eye, he simply said, “No, there is not.” And then he turned back around to stare at the children, his abrupt demeanour immediately making them return to training.
For a while, all Amalia could do was blink, speechless. It took her a bit before she finally regained the ability to speak, “W-what do you mean? Are you sure?”
“Oh, I’m positive. You see, there is no Wakfung without wakfu.”
“But I have wakfu.” She insisted, her brow furrowed at his refusal. “See?” She extended her palms facing the ceiling, a faint green light enveloping her hands as she called forth her father’s divine gift without actually manifesting it.
“You have Sadida magic, not Eliatrope magic.” Glip pointed out without missing a beat. “Sure, you might be able to make flowers grow and to sprout some vines, but you are incapable of creating portals or wielding wakfu in its purest form. Therefore, I don’t see the point in teaching you.”
“Glip!” Baltazar exclaimed, scandalised at his twin’s callousness. He knew better than anyone that his brother tended to be blunt and was never one to sugarcoat things, but to think he’d be this disrespectful towards Lady Amalia! It was imperative he defused the situation. “Please, forgive Baltazar’s brother, my Lady. He did not mean to be so rude, it is simply that we do not know how to adapt ourselves to your unique abilities.”
Seeing as Baltazar’s words made perfect sense, Amalia was about to reassure the beige dragon everything was alright when Glip cut in, although his words felt like they were actually cutting through her.
“Oh, don’t grovel like that, Baltazar! Have some dignity!” Glip loudly complained, swirling around to face his brother with a reproachful look. “She isn’t one of us, and she will never be, no matter how much she tries to integrate herself with us by learning our culture or our history! She is not an Eliatrope and therefore it would be extremely foolish to teach her Wakfung, and you know this!”
Even if Amalia already felt like she’d been slapped by his harsh words, she couldn’t help but gasp when the shortest Eliatrope settled the full fire of his fury on her, making her curl around herself subconsciously in fear. “There is simply no way I will ever make it easier for an outsider to hurt my people.”
His words were dripping with venom and Amalia ingested every single drop. Her heart fell to her stomach, and she could feel the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. What was worse, even in her numb state, she could discern how the entire room had grown eerily quiet, the children’s attention drawn to them by the commotion.
Was it true? Didn’t the Eliatrope trust her? Was that the reason for Glip and Efrim’s animosity, for the servants' cordial yet distant treatment of her? Deep down, she knew they certainly hadn’t been expecting her, that was something she became aware of as soon as she arrived at Oma Island, but to think they would actually hold such vitriol for her… Even as she stood there, frozen in shock as Baltazar flashed a seething glare his brother’s way while the latter refused to even meet his eye, the Sadida Doll couldn’t help but wrack her brain for answers. Tried as she might, she just couldn’t come up with anything in specific she might have done to earn their scorn. As she kept on searching, a chilling thought assaulted her.
Was that the reason why Yugo…?
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a bloodcurdling sound; a shrill, frightened scream.
“Lori!” One of the children shrieked, pointing up at her.
With a gasp, her heart pounding in her chest, Amalia swivelled her head to the origin of the scream. Her eyes widened in alarm at the sight of Lori’s portal malfunctioning at the last second and her falling. Normally, the little girl should have been perfectly fine, the safety net underneath her breaking her fall and preventing any disasters, but the doll couldn’t help but bring a hand to her mouth as Lori collided against the area where she’d noticed before the trope was worn out. As the kid collided against it, she sent a quick prayer to Sadida, begging him for the net to hold on, but alas, no such luck.
The ropes gave in under Lori’s weight, sending the little girl plummeting to the ground.
Overcome by a protective instinct she didn’t know she possessed, so overwhelmed by the surge of power coursing through her veins she only vaguely registered a flash of blue light from the corner of her eye, Amalia didn’t hesitate to act. Thinking fast, she threw her arm out, her palm outstretched, a portion of the floor in front of her—she sent a quick thank you to her father for their classroom being at ground level— glowing green for a split-second before a large vine shot forth and towards the terrified child.
At staggering speed, the thick plant reached just below Lori, softening her fall. Then, as soon as she made contact with it, the vine twisted and turned, creating spirals that acted as a slide and safely deposited Lori on the ground under everyone’s astonished and relieved gazes.
As soon as Lori’s feet made contact with the ground, she broke down crying. Seeing Amalia’s open arms, she threw herself at the Divine Doll, clutching onto her like a lifeline. “I-I-I…” She hiccuped at first, before it all became too much and she eventually wailed, “I was so scared!”
As she held the crying girl in her arms, Amalia made soothing noises in an attempt to calm her down. “There, there. It’s okay, Lori. You’re safe now. You’re safe now.”
While Amalia was busy trying to console the poor kid, her classmates surrounding the two and dissolving into both praises for the doll and words of encouragement for Lori, the two teachers watched the scene. In Glip’s case, who had been about to reach the girl before Amalia’s vine went ahead, his expression reflected the many mixed feelings going on in his mind.
By his side, Baltazar sighed. “Baltazar understands we must be careful not to underestimate her and what she’s capable of, but he believes in doing so we are also doing just that.”
“What do you mean?” Glip asked, his voice as small as his height, for once.
“You believe her undeserving of trust, and yet, she did not hesitate to save Lori. A truly heinous creature with no concern for anyone but their own would not do such a thing.” Then, he gestured to the crowd of children surrounding the crying girl and the doll with his tail. “Children are unexpectedly good at telling who is worthy of trust and who isn’t. And our little ones have been enchanted by her from the moment she walked through the door.”
Looking back and forth between his brother and the doll, Glip found himself at a loss. His voice was almost desperate when he begged the dragon for answers. “Baltazar, you’ve been much more willing to trust her than me since the beginning, but… why? What do you see in her that makes her worthy in your eyes?”
In response, Baltazar simply smiled kindly, the corner of his eyes wrinkling at the action. “Baltazar is a dragon.” He replied simply. “Much like you told him Adamaï did, Baltazar stared into her wakfu.” Leaning closer to the Eliatrope, he placed his tail on his shoulder. “Baltazar cannot speak for the twelve gods and their true intentions, but Lady Amalia holds no ill intent in her heart. She is far too pure for that.”
And with that, the dragon went over to join his class in looking after Lori to make sure the little one was okay, leaving the Wakfung master alone with his thoughts.
.......................................................................................................................
After that scare, the two teachers thought it best to dismiss the class early. There would be no katas that day, after all. Everyone, especially Lori, was far too rattled by the events to continue as if nothing had happened. Since it was still a little too early for the kids’ parents to pick them up, they remained inside the classroom as they often did whenever class ended sooner than expected. However, while they would normally be playing around until it was time to go, this time the children remained huddled around Amalia as she gently and soothingly caressed a still recovering Lori, who remained glued to the doll’s front, hugging her tightly like her life depended on it. They spent the rest of the time like that, with the children talking to Amalia and hanging onto her every word like she had just lowered the moon for them.
Finally, it was time to say goodbye for the day when the kids’ parents arrived. While they had all been understandably surprised at the sight of the Divine Doll surrounded by their children—and a few parents had had to not-so-subtly nudge their partners to react when they stared, or more like ogled, at the forest beauty for a tad too long—, it was nothing compared to their reactions upon learning what had happened.
Lori’s parents in particular spent a good time thanking a slightly overwhelmed Amalia profusely for saving their daughter as soon as the latter was done with her retelling, having wasted no time in informing her parents of her little brush with death and the super cool plant Lady Amalia had used to rescue her just in time.
Once every kid had left the room with their parents, waving Amalia goodbye—a gesture she returned wholeheartedly—, she was about to leave as well when Baltazar’s voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Lady Amalia. A word, please?”
“Of course, Master Baltazar. Is anything the matter?”
“Not at all, my Lady. In fact, it is Baltazar’s brother who wishes to speak with you.” Right after he said that, he nudged his Eliatrope twin forward, and Amalia immediately braced herself for the worst.
“In light of recent events…” The Eliatrope began uneasily. After a pregnant pause, trying in vain to organise his thoughts, Glip finally gave in with a sigh. “I have come to realise I’ve been unfair to you. I judged you far too quickly and treated you according to my prejudices rather than who you really are. And for that, I’d like to offer my sincerest apologies, my Lady.”
Genuine shame coloured Glip’s features even as he bowed down deeply in front of the Sadida Doll, who could only blink, taken aback. However, soon enough, her confusion gave way to a warm smile, touched by the gesture.
“I gladly accept your apologies, Master Glip.” She told him, bringing a hand to her chest. “Please, accept mine as well. I’m aware my actions might have offended you, even if it was the furthest thing from my intention.”
“Think nothing of it.” He nodded. Then, he cleared his throat and he held his cane a little bit tighter for (moral) support. “Um, I… Well.” He coughed. “Even if I have yet to decide whether it’d be possible to teach you Wakfung, given your Sadida nature, seeing as you have shown genuine interest in our people’s way, we…” Another pause, this time punctuated by deliverance. “I would be honoured to see you in class from now on, Lady Amalia.”
If it was even possible, Amalia’s smile only stretched wider. “The honour would be all mine, Master Glip.”
And as everyone made it back to their respective homes after such a hectic day, there was one topic that kept being discussed at the Eliatrope children’s tables during dinner. They couldn’t wait until King Yugo took Lady Amalia as his queen.
#wakfu#wakfu fanfiction#wakfu au#my fanfiction#the doll and the dragon#divine doll! au#sadida doll! au#yugo the eliatrope#amalia sheran sharm#yumalia#glip#baltazar#adamaï#efrim#phaeris#wakfu phaeris#qilby#nora#mina#shinonomé#eliatropes#council of six#ankama#dofus#krozmos
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My Daddy Forever, You’ll Always Be
ID!Leon + GN!Child
Dad suffered a lot. Uncle Chris or Aunt Claire tells me just how much he suffered and how he continues to suffer. No one had to tell me that my dad pushed all the suffering back and didn’t feel into them just to take care of me, even when the scrape on my knee was nothing compared to the fracture in his collarbone or the swelling of his eye. I do my best to be there for him, reminding him to celebrate birthdays or find happiness in the mundane like coloring books but I guess even that isn’t enough to fill the mom-shaped hole she left in his heart. No one’s going to fit in there, not even me, and I don’t think dad wants anyone to fill it in and that’s okay because I have a mom-shaped hole in my heart too, even if I only know how mom looks based on pictures in the frames and photo albums dad loved to look at.
On every birthday he has, we always prepare two candles– one for him and one for mom, even if they don’t share a birthday (they’re six months apart). Dad always sadly sighs when he blows out her candle; I think he hates doing that. I hate observing that though they were born a few months apart, they’re even more apart now that one of them is still on Earth while the other is in heaven now. Despite the fact that I sort of killed mom by being born fussy, Dad still loves me and does his best to be present in my life. He knows which dresses to buy and doesn’t mind wearing make up, even when the lipstick is smeared or if some powder got into his eyes. Sometimes I think he’s trying to make up by treating me well because I look like the splitting image of my mom and he’s trying to suppress the guilt every time he sees me but I don’t mind; he lost a woman who’s been around in his life longer than I have been. He lets me sleep in his and mom’s room sometimes, letting me sleep in what he said was her side of the bed. If we both couldn’t sleep, he could talk about anything and everything but her. There was one time where I told him that my classmate’s mom remarried after her dad died in service and that she was happy and I asked him if that would make him happier.
“Marriage is how you know that your love persevered through tough times. A second marriage is proof of how you were willing to give yourself another chance to love. I don’t think I can marry again because I know I won’t be able to love someone else as much as I fiercely love your mother,” was all he said before I turned to face him, his chest shaking slightly and tears streamed down his stubbly cheek. I apologized to him and quietly promised that I won’t ever make dad cry again and that I would do my best to make sure dad stayed happy.
Dad isn’t very keen on writing; he’d much rather install a tile and get dirt underneath nails he maintained than write on several pieces of paper back to back but I notice that he began buying stationery in order to write letters but those letters were never sent. He keeps them in a womens’ shoe box and occasionally takes a letter out to read as he quietly cries to himself. On the night of what would be five years since mom left us, I woke up in the middle of the night to find dad’s side of the bed empty. I got up and saw him sitting on the floor as he hugged the shoe box close to his chest.
“Will we ever see each other again? How long until you’ll come back to me and our daughter?” was what I heard as he continued to cry. I have heard Dad cry but never as gut-wrenching as this. I continued to watch him cry, tears of my own spilling and I felt bad for him. Aunt Claire told me that dad never showed fear when he was at work, shooting and defeating the bad guys but whenever he looked at me, there would always be a small tinge of fear in his eyes. She said that he just didn’t want me to see the world the way he saw it, whatever that meant. I couldn’t take it and I ended up sobbing, maybe as hard as dad did. He heard me and got up, walking over to where I was hiding. He lifted me and hugged me tight, pressing kisses to my hair and repeatedly apologizing for being a little too loud when I was sleeping. If only Dad saw that he had nothing to apologize for but how could he see that when the splitting image of his wife is me and my face reminds him of what he gained and lost on that day?
I hope Dad doesn’t beat himself up for losing what he had left of mom. I hope he doesn’t feel sad whenever he sees another dad with his wife bonding with their daughter in a park. I hope he doesn’t cry whenever it’s his birthday and he pokes a third candle into his cake. I hope he doesn’t consider himself a bad father because I would rather live a short life with dad than a long life without him. It made me sad how dad would never see me in a wedding gown and would probably never walk me down the aisle or have our daddy-daughter dance; after we watched the movie Father of the Bride and seeing dad get all emotional about it, it kind of made me a little happy to image dad being so excited for me. I hope he will be kind to himself and let himself experience happiness. I hope that God would let me be reborn as dad’s best friend so I can help him get through what he went through. He would’ve been a pleasure to walk to school with. Hmm. Maybe he’d be the type to remind the teacher of homework.
NOTE - Sorry for dropping this short and mid ass fic, I just had to hop on my computer and write this one bc I came across this one wedding tiktok where the dad sees his daughter who's getting married for the first time and I cried then suddenly remembered I wrote an angsty fic where Leon's kid dies and I decided to add this as the kid's POV. I was too sad okay I just HAD to write one up but looking back at it, now that I'm not that sad, it's actually... ehh. A for effort, I guess. Anyways, that's it and thank you SOOOOOO much for reading my fics, it means a lot to me :) I <33333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!
The dividers are from @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy#biohazard#leon kennedy angst#dad leon s kennedy#leon kennedy dad#leon x reader#angst#light angst#resident evil angst#resident evil infinite darkness#infinite darkness leon#yall i chose mislabelled this as “death island” at first so yeah im sorry for the confusion :')
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