#*forced arrogant voice* i love talking about myself

[makeyoumine69]

Call Me Babydoll 4

PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Anything that seems too good to be true probably isn't. After a dinner with Patrick that didn't go well, you realized that your relationship with him is more complicated than you initially thought.

CONTAINS: Angst, mentions of food, cursing and use of pet names (babydoll), smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & mild bulling.

WORDS: 4.1k

A/N: This chapter is a bit long, but I hope you enjoy it!💕

LINKS: [Ch.3]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]

God, you couldn't imagine a worse situation than this — being stuck in the limo with Patrick Bateman after he discovered your little secret about your virginity. Panicking from the lack of oxygen, you looked down at his deadly grip on your wrist, your brain overloaded with thoughts of a possible escape route.

"Patrick, I should go," you tried to release his grip when you noticed that the car had stopped, but he kept holding you tight. "My Dad is waiting for me!"

"Your father can wait a little longer," he demanded, pulling you a little closer, forcing you to raise your shy eyes to him. "Tomorrow we'll have dinner and talk about...this whole thing."

From the raspy sound of his voice, it was obvious that Bateman was doing his best to save what was left of his self-control, his skin burning yours with its heat.

"And what if I say 'no'?" You snapped at his cheeky way of speaking.

With a soft chuckle, he let go of your wrist and grinned as he saw you rubbing the spot where he was holding you a moment ago. "You don't want to upset your Dad, do you?" When Patrick met your confused gaze, the corners of his lips turned up. "I mean, the last thing you want is for your dear father to find out about all the nasty things you did…with me."

Your nostrils flared with anger, but you tried to play it cool. "What? Are you really trying to blackmail me?"

"No," Bateman grinned at your irritated stare. "Just a little reminder not to try to play games with me. It's pointless anyway."

Uh yeah, sure. We'll see who laughs last. 

Saying nothing in return, you looked at him one last time before opening the car door and getting out.

"I'll pick you up at six. Wear something nice...something that hides your tattoos." Patrick ordered through the half-open window, the wide, smug smile never leaving his face.

The urge to turn around and show him your middle finger was so damn high, but as you faced the facade of your house, the memories of your father occupied your mind and stopped you at the very last moment.

"I don't have any of those clothes you're talking about," you simply replied, spinning around and crossing your hands over your chest. "Because I—"

"That's not a problem, babydoll. We can buy you some fabulous dresses or skirts," his brown eyes traveled over your body like a scanner, making you feel completely naked, you even shrugged off the shiver. "By the way, does your father forbid you to wear skirts or dresses because he knows someone would kidnap you? You have such pretty legs."

You closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm yourself. "I love my jeans, and pants are just much more comfortable for me!" Your voice trembled with embarrassment and anger. "If all the girls around you look like sluts in their skimpy dresses, that doesn't mean I have to! Jesus, why am I even trying to justify myself?!"

Your little tantrum only made him chuckle in pure satisfaction. "I have no idea why, but I like it," his arrogant smirk made you sick. After checking his Rolex nonchalantly, Bateman added, "See you tomorrow, (y/n). And tell your father that my old man has approved those investments we talked about a week ago."

Wait, what?

Now it was your turn to try to stop him, but just as the last word fell from his lips, the limo pulled away, leaving you with an unspoken question stuck in your throat like a lump.

The air of your house greeted you with a sharp smell of smoke, signaling that your father was home and not in a good mood — he had taken up smoking since your mother died, and now you knew pretty well that when he was feeling down only a cigarette could bring him some relief.

Walking slowly through the halls of your not-so-luxurious but spacious house, you found your Dad sitting in the living room with a glass of his favorite whiskey and a pack of cigarettes that he twirled nervously in his hand.

"Hey, Dad," you called out quietly, halting in the doorway — the strange pangs of guilty causing your heart to pound painfully against your chest. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I didn't hear you coming," he turned to you, his wrinkled face lighting up the moment he saw your apprehensive expression. "I'm fine...just had a busy day," he put the cigarette in the ashtray and got up from his comfortable armchair. "How did you make it home?"

His sudden question caught you off guard, as your father didn't usually ask such things. Frowning, you stepped into the living room and looked at his tired face — he seemed to have aged even faster in the last few months, when his business had stopped being as profitable as it used to be.

"I'm fine, thanks," you carefully took a seat on the couch next to him, noticing that the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table was half empty. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, my dear," your father smiled at you and poured himself another glass of alcohol before sitting back down in his armchair. "What is it?"

"Did you really ask Pat—" you stammered and coughed a little. "I mean, did you really ask Mr. Bateman to pick me up after work?"

Right after you asked, you tried to catch a glimpse of your father's reaction, to notice any strange expressions or anything that might discredit him, but to your surprise, your father just gave you a sympathetic grin, sipping his drink and looking at you adoringly.

"Maybe I did..." he tilted his head thoughtfully. "...or maybe I didn't. Forgive me for my bad memory, it gets worse every day."

Sighing, you couldn't help but smile at his words, as your father was always the one who could warm your heart just by saying a few simple words.

"All right, all right," you paused, rubbing your tense temples. "He asked me to inform you that the investments you discussed some time ago have been approved and..." as you noticed your father's face changing so quickly, you had to pause for a second. "...is it something important?"

Your father took a quick drag on a cigarette, blowing a few rings of smoke to the side to keep them away from you. "Did he really say that?"

"Yes," you fidgeted nervously in your seat, seeing your Dad's reaction. "Yes, he did."

"That's...that's one of the best pieces of news I've had in a long time," your father stood up again, looking for something. "I need to make a call..."

Nodding, you decided that now was not the best time to ask more questions, so you just decided to leave and go to your room, but as soon as you strolled away, you heard your father's enthusiastic voice again: 

"(Y/n), wait," he stopped beside you, holding a phone in his slightly shaking hand. "I know I've always been too strict when it comes to you, but I've always tried to give you as much love and care as I could...since your mother..." His words cut right through your heart, and you even had to grit your teeth from the itchy tears that welled up in your eyes.

"Father, please...let's not talk about it." You interrupted him, not wanting to open up your old wounds.

"Uh, I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you that...Patrick Bateman seems like a good man," you almost lost your sense of orientation in this room at his sudden statement. "I haven't allowed you to hang out with boys much, but you can get to know him better since he's been asking about you a lot."

Fuck, you couldn’t believe it. 

First, Bateman had his eyes on you. Then he tried to seduce you, break you and make you forget your morals, and he fucking succeeded, because in the end Patrick managed to get his hands on you, and now his farther suddenly approved the budget for your Dad's business. Was this just a coincidence or another way to manipulate you?

"Well, you tried to protect me from...everything and everyone, I can't judge you..." you murmured as you reached the door. "You always want the best for me, so... I promise I'll think about it."

With that, you closed the door behind you, leaving your father alone in the living room. A wild cocktail of emotions swirled in your chest, as if you had drunk something extremely hot — you wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream. How on Earth did that happen? That your own father was directly encouraging you to get close with Patrick Bateman? Was that someone's bad joke?

As soon as you got to your room, you opened the closet, looking for some "fabulous" dress Patrick wanted you to wear. 

"Fucking narcissistic idiot," you cursed aloud as you flipped through your clothes, getting more and more annoyed by the second. "Why do I even care what he thinks about my appearance?"

You exhaled tiredly and hid your face in your hands, feeling the strong shudder in every inch of your fragile frame. This man, damn it, this man was a devil himself, and your father just called him 'a good guy'.

Unbelievable. 

"All right, I have to pull myself together." You moved quickly to the mirror, breathing steadily and rubbing your cheeks. "I'll do it for Dad, I'll figure it all out."

Winking at your reflection, you returned to your search for a suitable dress, not realizing that it was getting late.

The next day started with a heavy rain which woke you up with its sound, so loud that you couldn't fall asleep again. So, you decided to get up earlier and write a bit before your work. 

Your father was already gone when you got downstairs — the memories of your earlier conversation were still running through your mind, leaving a bitter aftertaste. As you made yourself a cup of coffee with your favorite organic milk, you couldn't stop thinking about what might happen tonight — the unknown made you feel a little nauseous, but the breathing exercises your mother taught you always helped you in such moments. Uh, what would your mom say to you if she were here, if she knew the situation you were in? 

Would Patrick be able to enchant her so easily?

The workday went by so quickly that you didn't even realize you were rushing back home in the taxi. During the ride, you tried to distract yourself with your poems, some of which you had written during the break at the café where you had been with Patrick the day before. After many attempts, you noticed that whenever you tried to describe the feelings Patrick evoked in you, it seemed as if your mind was losing touch with reality. The pen he gifted you was burning your skin as if it were some cursed relic, but yet this phantom pain was something you probably missed in your life, it didn't feel like grief or sorrow — it was something completely new.

Even though you were not a huge fan of Manhattan, you couldn't deny the fact that it looked absolutely breathtaking at night, with all its lights, mesmerizing atmosphere, and soaring skyscrapers that made your head spin whenever you looked at them.

There was no doubt that the restaurant Bateman was taking you to would be exquisite and luxurious, so when you entered the establishment, you were not surprised that most people were paying attention to your persona, as you had no jewels, no beaded clutch — just your modest but tight black dress, which was one of your shortest. The maître d' escorted you to your table, and from that moment on, the game began between you and Mr. Bateman, although your conversation didn't flow at first.

"So, do you like this place?" Patrick asked a little indifferently after swirling his drink — J&B Whiskey, that seemed to be his favorite.

"Mmm, yeah, it's pretty good." You replied, avoiding his gaze and staring at the napkin on the table that you were nervously crumpling.

Bateman couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Pretty good?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Uh," he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose briefly. "Do you even know what this place is?"

Finally, you left a poor napkin alone and looked up at him. "This is Dorsia, right? I saw a sign outside."

For a moment his face remained blank, but the next moment a deep, prominent line appeared between his knitted brows.

"Yeah, this is fucking Dorsia," he spat out his words and took a sip of his whiskey. "Nothing special."

Actually, his suddenly confronting tone was embarrassing. "Well...I'm not a frequent guest in these chic restaurants. Come on, you know that."

Unfortunately for you, your voice sounded more sad than irritated, and Bateman didn't miss it. His warm palm touched yours gently, but he didn't dare to look at you.

"Huh," he mused, drawing an invisible line across the back of your hand with his soft fingertip. "It's pretty hard to impress a girl like you, since you just don't understand—"

"The taste of luxurious life?" You cut him off, causing him to raise his brown walnut eyes to your face. They looked so mysterious in the dim light of the restaurant hall. 

Patrick pulled his hand away as if struck by the electric shock, clenching his jaw in tension, and this sight was something you never thought you would have to witness.

In a few minutes of awkward silence, the waiter brought your food, and since you refused to take any alcohol, you asked him to give you a dessert menu — maybe something sweet would cheer you up and help you get through this strange dinner that was hard to identify as a date or whatever it might be.

"We have amazing cheesecakes, good choice." The waiter replied as you handed the menu back to him.

"Thank you," you made yourself comfortable in your seat and gave Patrick a warm smile, which left him a bit confused. "I need something to compare with the desserts I've had in my favorite café."

Although you hadn't intended it to be a joke, you weren't irritated at all when you heard his soft chuckle for the first time during dinner. "Just don't tell anyone about this," he crossed his arms and looked at you with a mischievous grin. "I don't want the local chefs to end their lives."

"Oh, God," you laughed, looking at his drink. "Why do you all have to drink whiskey? My Dad can't work without a bottle of his favorite drink next to him," as soon as Bateman heard about your Dad, he straightened up in his seat and fixed his Rolex. "Speaking of him...can I ask you a question?"

"You can try, babydoll." Bateman sneered in a mischievous voice and looked around quickly as if he noticed someone familiar.

"I want to know about the investments—"

"Hey, Halberstram!" An unknown male voice echoed from behind you, shamelessly interrupting your conversation. "Haven't seen you for a while, how have you been?"

A handsome man with light brown hair — wearing a stylish suit that was one hundred percent overpriced — came closer to your table and offered Patrick a handshake, which he accepted, but you couldn't help but notice a glint of anger in his hazel eyes.

"Allen," Bateman shook his hand and then quickly glanced at a woman next to him. "I didn't expect to see you here, I heard you were on vacation in Paris."

"Well, Meredith didn't really like it, so we decided to come back a little earlier," Paul replied, pulling a beautiful blonde girl closer to him. "I thought Halloween was over." Allen chuckled and pointed at you, making you palpably uncomfortable. "Nice manicure, so gothic."

Frowning, you checked your black manicured nails and then looked up at him, suppressing your inner battle to tell him to fuck off. "Thanks." You replied coldly and noticed Patrick clenching his fists in tension.

"And where's Veronica, Marcus? That big-titted chick you were hanging out with at the last yacht party?" Allen asked, continuing to stare at you with undisguised interest. 

What the hell was going on? Why did he call him Marcus?

"Veronica?" Bateman interjected, pretending to try to remember. "She's probably with her family in South Hampton."

"Oh, and who is this punk girl?" Paul's question made your nails claw at the soft skin of your knee. 

Patrick closed his eyes for a second, definitely trying to find the best answer. It was obvious that a man like him didn't want to ruin his reputation, since you were not a person from his circle. This seemed to be a dead end until an unexpected idea came to your mind.

"I'm a journalist," you explained in a confident voice. "And I'm interviewing...Mr. Halberstram because I'm writing a book about Wall Street."

"Wow," Paul seemed to be surprised. "That's...pretty impressive."

"Yeah," Bateman cleared his throat and unclenched his fists. "She's one of the best journalists in New York, and she wants to write a book, too."

Oh my God, please shut up!

"It's pretty impressive that you were allowed to come here," Meredith suddenly blurted out, giving you a disgusted look. "There's a dress code, you know?"

"I'll leave you for a while, since you have things to discuss." You fumed and got up from the table — Patrick didn't even try to stop you.

In a few minutes, you found your way to the outdoor terrace on the upper level. As you stepped in, you noticed another blonde woman — she looked gorgeous, with her elegant, red-manicured fingers wrapped around the burning cigarette.

"Um, excuse me," you approached her from behind. "Could you pass me a cigarette, please?"

As soon as she turned around, you could see her sad blue eyes, cold as ice. "Sure."

Carefully, she reached into her black clutch to find a pack of cigarettes and offered you one.

"Thank you." You smiled after she lit your cigarette. 

"No problem," she grinned back, looking away to see the lights of New York city. "It's so beautiful here, isn't it? I wish he could be with me right now."

Her question left you speechless, because you didn't know how to react, but just as you were about to say something, you heard the door open and the unknown man with the red hair joined you on the terrace.

"Courtney, you're here. I was looking for you," he chirped with an affectionate intonation. "The cocktails are ready."

Unlike the guy, the woman — that apparently was named Courtney — didn't seem happy, you would even say she was getting sadder — her previous words puzzled you, because now it was obvious she was talking about someone else.

With the last puff of smoke, Courtney took a quick glance at the night city and turned to you. "Take care."

Even a few moments after they left, you could still feel the wisp of sharp sadness in the air. Shivering with cold, you came closer to the railing, looked down and smoked, the signals of passing cars distracting you a bit from your train of thought — that fucking snobbish bitch and her supposed boyfriend pissed you off completely and you didn't really want to come back. Her behavior reminded you of why you hated yuppies, Wall Street, money, luxury. You hated it all, while your father tried his best to give you such a life so you could turn into a heartless ghost with no emotions except greed and...disgust?

A sudden touch of soft, warm fabric made you almost flinch. "Are you trying to catch a cold?" A familiar voice asked, and a jacket was wrapped around your trembling shoulders.

No way that could be him. "Patrick?"

The next moment, the owner of the familiar voice — which was indeed Patrick — deftly snatched the cigarette out of your mouth, eliciting an irritated groan from your chest. "You don't need this, believe me."

As you turned around, you watched him puff on your cigarette, but when he blew out a few rings, his face cringed in disgust. "Jesus, this is some girlish shit." Patrick ranted and quickly put out the cigarette.

"What are you doing here?" You crossed your arms in a defensive gesture and stepped away from him.

Patrick chuckled softly, your eyes accidentally glancing around his broad chest and the fashionable suspenders that looked so good on him.

"You could have just told me that you wanted to suffer alone on the terrace like a crybaby. Then I wouldn't have had to look for you all over the fucking restaurant." His voice became slightly stern as a sign of the high level of irritation — his patience seemed about to snap.

"I didn't ask you to come after me," you retorted, but didn't take off his jacket because it was so warm and nice. "Besides, what the hell was that? Why did that guy call you Marcus? Is that your real name? God, maybe you're a fucking scammer trying to deceive my father?"

His loud laugh echoed in the fresh air, Bateman couldn't help but applaud because your theory was fantastic. "That...that was hilarious, babydoll," he theatrically wiped away a few tears and came closer. "We stopped at your question about your father, as I recall."

"You know what?" you suddenly charged at him, almost bumping into his solid torso. "You should have hired several hookers instead of taking me to this useless dinner. At least it would have been a lot cheaper!"

"What?" He asked, still giggling as if you had told him another joke.

"My father has been waiting almost a year for some extra funding," you started, shortening the distance between you to a mere inches. "And just like in fairy tales, the necessary investments were approved as soon as you got your hands on me. What a great coincidence, don't you think?"

Patrick hummed to himself, hiding his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Go on."

"You won't get it," your voice wavered, as if your nature refused to utter the words. "I know that rich guys like you can buy anything and everything — houses, cars, yachts, corporations, girls..." the more you spoke, the darker Bateman's eyes became. "Girls of all body types, ages, virgins or not, and so on. But for me — money is nothing, and I won't do it even for my father".

"You're done?" Patrick asked, pressing a finger to his lips and looking at you with an unreadable expression. When you nodded, he took you by the chin and tilted your head to the side, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as if by accident. "Now, listen to me, babydoll. I invited you to dinner because I wanted to apologize...for the things that happened between us..." your heart skipped a beat at his last words and your legs went weak, but you stood still, looking straight into his dark hypnotizing eyes. "I must say, you're a really cute, sweet girl, pretty even," he smirked as you shivered from his finger sliding down your neck. "But I don't want to be a babysitter."

"W-what?" You gasped, your voice barely audible as your breath hitched from the hard lump in your throat.

"(Y/n), listen, your father's business can be profitable enough, that's the only reason my Dad and I decided to finance it," Bateman removed his hand and stepped aside. "The long wait was caused by bureaucratic processes and my old man being away on business all the time."

There were no words to explain the feelings you were experiencing — frustration, deception, embarrassment? 

"I…I understand," you bit your lower lip to keep the tears from forming in your dejected eyes. "Thank you for telling me the truth." 

Just as you were about to take off his jacket, Patrick stopped you and after a small hug, he added: "Unfortunately, I don't like messing around with little girls because I'm pretty demanding when it comes to sex.” His arrogant grin was about to become the last straw of your self-control, but you kept fighting. "Let's go back to our table, your dessert must be waiting for you."

With a quick flick of your hand, you wiped away any traces of your tears when he didn't look at you. "I'm not hungry. Go, I'll join you soon."

Bateman gave you a worried look, then glanced at the railing and shook his head. "No, we'll come together, I'm responsible for you tonight and I don't want your father to be nervous."

How fucking cute.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[bihansthot]

Ok now that I've seen Scorpions dialogues I wanted to change a little my request, still make it like a s rivals to lovers type of thing with Smoke x reader, but is more of like "we disliked each other at first but we say our good on us and became close", kinda like with Kenshi and Johnny

I’m so sorry for the wait lovely, this is soooooo not my wheel house T_T Hopefully it came out ok and you enjoy it!

Title: First Impressions Can Be Deceiving

Rating: Mature (sweet loving)

Pairing: Smoke x Afab!Reader

Summary: After the events that happened at Madam Bo’s you were convinced you hated the Lin Kuei, especially the one who hurt Madam Bo, but as time goes on you realized you may have misjudged him, and develop feelings for him?!

Author’s Note: I am AWFUL at enemies/rivals to lovers, and tried my best, Smoke is very kind and gentle like the sweet cinnamon roll he is. Please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed it. Thank you lovelies <3

Your first impression of the warrior called Smoke was not a good one, you were introduced to him at the raid on Madam Bo’s Tea House and even though Lord Liu Kang had assured you Smoke and his fellow Lin Kuei were there to test you and the other champions, Smoke’s actions had left a bad taste in your mouth. Surely there was a better way to subdue Madam Bo than to throw her off a balcony, even if she was tougher than she looked she was still a respected elder. You didn’t like the whole thing and maybe your anger should have been directed at Lord Liu Kang, but in your mind, it was the Lin Kuei to blame.

The next time you saw the Lin Kuei was when you and the other champions were training at the Wu Shi academy and despite your earlier misgivings you were slowly starting to realize maybe Smoke at least wasn’t as bad or arrogant as you thought he was. He was polite and courteous to Lord Liu Kang and the rest of you. It perplexed you because you had already made up your mind you didn’t like him or the Lin Kuei. His voice cuts through your thoughts though before you had time to process things fully.

“How are you liking your time at the Wushi Academy? The monks truly are masters at their craft are they not?” Smoke asks taking a seat next to you.

“Their dedication is second to none, it’s quiet a sight to behold,” you reply, forcing yourself to make polite small talk.

“I can’t help but feel like I need to apologize to you, the other warriors don’t seem to have any problems with myself of my brothers, but you seem to. The Tea House was a test, Madam Bo knew all about it and was in on it, I would never hurt an elderly woman of my own accord. So, I’m sorry we deceived you, but I assure you it was all at the behest of Lord Liu Kang,” Smoke tries to explain for what seems like the thousandth time.

“You bashed her head into a railing and threw her off a balcony! In on it or not that’s just too much! You could have killed her!” You snap at him angrily. “Madam Bo is a kindly old proprietress not a master martial artist!”

“That’s where you’re wrong y/n, Madam Bo is a former Lin Kuei and IS a master martial artist, she trained Raiden and Kang Lao from childhood as she helped raise my brothers and I when she was in the Lin Kuei,” Smoke explains emphatically, desperate to convey the fact he wasn’t the bad guy here.

“She, she was Lin Kuei? Seriously?” You ask in disbelief shocked by this new revelation.

“Yes, she taught my brothers and I everything we know, well outside of my magic and my brother’s birthrights,” Smoke continues. “She’s much more sturdy than she looks, it was actually her idea to throw her off the balcony, she said it had to look realistic, to make sure the three of you actually fought to your full potential.”

“I, I see, maybe I misjudged you all but I still don’t like how the whole thing went down, and I still don’t trust you or the Lin Kuei,” you huff as you stand up and brush off your pants before stalking off. Thankfully you don’t have to deal with the Lin Kuei for long, Lord Liu Kang had other plans for them and you don’t see Smoke again until after the conflict with Titan Shang Tsung.

“Hello my dear, in order to help keep Earthrealm’s defenders strong and at peak performance I’ve organized a training exercise,” Lord Liu Kang addresses you as he materializes from his portal giving you quite the start.

“Y-yes, Lord Liu Kang, of course, as you wish,” you nod enthusiastically, looking forward to keeping your skills sharp.

“You will be training with the newly formed Shirai Ryu, their Grandmaster Kuai Liang and second-in-command Tomas, will assist you in your training and when they are satisfied will let me know you have completed your training,” he states authoritatively.

You wince internally, not them, they were the Lin Kuei, they may have a new name and might have sworn their loyalty to defending the Earthrealm, just like you had but you still had reservations about the trip. You had been able to avoid them at the Wushi Academy but it would be impossible like this, but you couldn’t say no to Lord Liu Kang. Sighing deeply you relent, “yes Lord Liu Kang, I will do my best.”

You make your preparations to travel to Japan and once you’re ready Lord Liu Kang appears to you again to transfer you there via a portal, the Shirai Ryu compound was well hidden in the countryside and traditional travel would have required many modes of transportation, so you were grateful to Lord Liu Kang for his assistance. Once you arrive you are formally introduced to Grandmaster Scorpion and his fiancée Harumi, both seem like good and honorable people despite the Grandmaster’s familial ties to the Lin Kuei’s Grandmaster, someone you definitely were not fond of. Maybe you had misjudged the former Lin Kuei members, you did think to yourself how Smoke had gone out of his way to sit with you and explain the situation with Madame Bo, slowly you found yourself less hostile. The longer you stayed with the Shirai Ryu and trained with them the fonder you found yourself of them, particularly Smoke, he was actually dare you say, sweet?

“How are you enjoying your time here, y/n?” Smoke asked you one night after the communal meal while you were enjoying the lush gardens of the Shirai Ryu Temple.

“I’ve enjoyed my time here immensely, the gardens are my favorite place to be, they’re so peaceful and serene, it makes me feel at peace,” you answer truthfully.

“I’m glad, I know you haven’t always been the biggest fan of me, but I have honestly always admired you and your skills and it’s been my pleasure to help you develop and hone your skills further, if there’s anything else I can do just let me know,” Smoke stands up making ready to leave and you tug on his pants.

“Stay with me for a bit?” You ask, almost surprised with yourself but you couldn’t lie to yourself any longer, somewhere along your stay you had developed feelings for the smoke wielder, and if you’re curious to see if he felt the same way.

“My pleasure,” Tomas answers and sits back down next to you enjoying the serene setting of the gardens with you.

“I, I have a confession to make, when I first met you I disliked you, no, down right hated you and your brothers for the events of the Tea House, but now I realize you’re nothing like that thug,” you pause to gather your courage. “The truth is Smoke, I find myself having feelings for you, I care about you and want to be closer to you, I want to be with you,” you confess, your cheeks flushed with the embarrassing words.

“I had hoped you felt the same way about me as I do for you, but I didn’t want to cross any lines or make you feel uncomfortable but zlatíčko I think I’ve been in love with you since the moment we crossed paths. Please, call me Tomas,” he returns your confession enthusiastically.

“T-Tomas,” you try his name and like the way it sounds coming from your lips, and if Tomas’ expression is anything to go by, so does he. His silvery eyes are lidded with pleasure and a faint blush spreads across his cheeks, he leans forward and closes the gap between the two of you as you share your first kiss together. It’s soft and gentle, slow and patient and wonderfully warm, the action ignites a spark of arousal just simmering in your belly, you’re immediately hungry for more. You tilt your head to the side letting the warrior deepen the kiss as you hungrily part your lips and welcome his warm tongue, it slides softly along your bottom lip as if asking permission before delving inside. You moan softly at the welcome intrusion and suck softly on his tongue pulling a soft moan from the smoke wielder, your hands wrap around him pulling him closer as your hands continue to glide over his well-muscled arms.

“Mmm zlatíčko, if you keep this up I may not be able to stop myself, I’ve found myself many lonely nights with just my thoughts of you to keep me company,” he whispers, biting his lower lip as if embarrassed.

“What if I told you I don’t want you to stop, what if I told you I may have thought about you the same way,” you reply sweetly, your lips finding his neck and sucking softly.

Smoke moans low in his throat, “please don’t tempt me, I want you so desperately,” he all but pleads with you.

“So, take me,” you whisper in a sweet invitation as you climb into his lap and you’re met with his hardness and it makes you feel bolder as you reach your hand down and start stroking at his clothed manhood. The moan he makes is so amazing and makes you feel lightheaded with arousal as you palm him harder through his pants and suck on his neck harder. Your lips soon find his again as you kiss him hard, teeth clicking together as you battle for dominance, he eventually concedes defeat as your tongue dances in his mouth and intertwines with his. You soon find yourself topless as the skilled warrior divests you of your bothersome garment, his face is pressed hotly between your breasts as he shudders slightly and rubs his smooth face against your lovely mounds. His skilled hands make quick work of your bra as he cups your breasts lovingly in his large callous hands.

“I, I must warn you zlatíčko, I’m not very skilled in the ways of pleasure, but I’m happy to do whatever I can to please you,” Smoke breathes out, embarrassed by his own shortcomings.

“We’ll have to figure it out together then because I’m afraid I’m in the same boat, I’ve well seen how things are done though,” you explain, the flush spreading to the tips of your ears now as you confide your inexperience to the other.

Softly Smoke presses a kiss to the top of your breast before his lips close around your nipple as he sucks lightly, the other hand teasing and lightly pinching your other breast earning a soft moan from you. He gradually applies more pressure sucking fervently on your nipple as his tongue swirls along the pebbled nub the action causing more heat and arousal to build up in your stomach as you feel your pants getting sticky and uncomfortable. You dip your hand underneath his waistband to grab onto his velvety shaft and he feels big and you’re suddenly a bit more nervous than you already were, but you trusted Tomas not to hurt you, so you gather your courage and start stroking his cock.

“Oh shit, that feels so good,” he hisses pulling away from your nipple and moans slightly the sound getting stuck in his throat.

“I want you, please,” you whine cutting the foreplay short the feeling of his hard cock so eager for you stroking your ego to the point that waiting is no longer an option.

“Are you sure?” He asks panting softly as you keep stroking his length in his pants as he moves to continue undressing you but stops to make sure this is what you really want.

“Make love to me Tomas,” you sigh softly giving him a soft kiss before rolling off him and lying in the soft grass of the picturesque garden.

“As you wish my lady,” he smiles and swallows audibly, clearly battling with some nerves, but he shakes them off the best he can as he pulls his top off and helps pull your pants and panties off. He can’t help himself though, he has to sneak a taste as he presses your thighs apart and slots his head in between your thighs, and runs his tongue over your luscious little pussy, it's welcoming and sticky with your want. He moans deeply as he gets his taste and the vibrations reverberate through your body pulling a startled cry of his name from you.

“Tomas please, stop teasing,” you whimper and wriggle the action of just his tongue alone was almost enough to overload your inexperienced body.

“Sorry,” he offers sheepishly before kicking his pants off and positioning himself between your legs, he grabs his cock and rubs the slick velvety head along your slit a few times before resting at your entrance. “Let me know if it hurts,” he tells you before kissing your forehead and slowly pushing inside your impossibly tight warmth.

You cry softly as you feel his cock opening you up and pushing inside you, it feels full, so full, and slightly uncomfortable, you suddenly feel a jolt of pain and a slight tearing sensation as Tomas keeps pushing steadily in. “Oh fuck, it hurts a little, but at the same time it feels nice, I-I can’t explain it,” you whimper as you wrap your arms around Smoke’s well-built shoulders.

Tomas immediately stills, “do you want me to pull out, or stop? We don’t have to do this,” he insists.

You shake your head ‘no’ and squeeze gently around him earning a sharp breath from Tomas, “no, please keep going.” You squirm slightly and roll your hips experimentally against his cock as he finishes burying it inside your plush walls, it feels like it's too much but at the same time, it feels like it was built just for you. “Oh Tomas, you feel so good,” you whine.

“Heh, I was about to say the same thing about you zlatíčko,” he quips back as he holds himself still, letting you adjust despite his desire to feel more of your sticky, tight wetness.

“You-you can move, I think, please?” You ask him softly as the burn and sting dissipate as your body acclimates to his cock.

He starts thrusting slowly and it feels heavenly, you moan immediately as his cock starts moving inside your tight canal. He makes soft noises as his cock disappears in and out of your tight, wet pussy, “god, you’re perfect zlatíčko, so warm and tight, it feels so much better than my hand.”

“Tell me about it,” you moan in agreement and cant your hips slightly and suddenly cry out sharply as Tomas’ cock suddenly hits something inside you that makes you see stars. “Do, do that again,” you practically demand and Tomas repeats the action pulling another shaky cry from you. “Oh please, yes, that’s so good Tomas,” you whimper as you focus on keeping your hips at the perfect angle so each one of his thrusts hit that sweet spot over and over. You cling to his body as he thrusts in and out of you, the arousal building and building in your stomach as he keeps a steady pace.

“I’m not going to last much longer zlatíčko, where do you want me to cum?” Tomas asks and he’s breathy and dripping in sweat as he starts fucking you harder now, chasing his release.

You panic and you aren’t sure where you want him, “in-inside please, I want to feel you cum, please Tomas, just a little more, I’m so close,” you beg him, eyes squeezing closed as your stomach tightens almost unpleasantly.

“As you wish,” he pants and keeps plunging in and out of your tight pussy, his body shaking with exertion.

“To-Tomas!” You squeal as your orgasm suddenly washes over you, the pleasure jolting down your spine as your toes curl and you feel lightheaded as you hit your high.

Tomas holds you tight and moans loudly as you want soaks his cock making it hard to keep it inside you, he manages though as he quickly falls over the edge as your pussy walls flutter and grasp his cock.

You shake slightly as you feel Tomas’ release flooding your tight pussy and you whine at the sensation, you can’t stop shaking as the feeling of your lingering orgasm intensifies knowing you had pushed Tomas to his limit too.

Tomas tries to pull in deep breaths of air as he tries to get his breathing back under control as he moves to pull out of you, concerned he might be hurting you.

“Please stay close, it feels so good,” you whimper, shyly as you hold him, unwilling to let go of your post-coitus glow.

“Whatever you want zlatíčko,” he smiles and holds you until you're ready to let him go.

[abridgerton]

My Duty, My Honor {Reader x Anthony}

Part 1/?

Word Count: 1.5k+

Triggers: Kissing, suggestive talk, forced marriage

Summary: Lily Wickham was caught with Anthony in a secret rondevouz in the garden, leaving her and the rakinsh Viscount no choice but to get married - even if she detests him.

A/N: Hello! I adore writing for Anthony, and I particularly like where this story is going - so please, if you enjoy reading this, please let me know that it would be worth writing a part two!

~ Sometimes, when I close my eyes I can imagine myself in a world where I am free; someplace where I am not bound to my duty or my family. To love freely with whom I choose - to find happiness in my other half. Oh, I long for the day I find romance and acceptance; for the first time in my life I shall know joy ~

My hopeful dreams of a love match have disappeared entirely as of last night. The Viscount Bridgerton asked for my hand in marriage two twilights ago, and upon the insistence of my mother, I accepted.

When I was a young girl I entertained myself with fantasies of my prince charming - a gallant man who would sweep me off my feet and carry me into the sunset; a man who was decorated with manners and grace, a man who I would be proud to father my children. Viscount Bridgerton is far from what I had in mind. Perhaps my disdain for him stems from the wild cowlick hair that stands up off the back of his head, or that annoying purr in his voice when he speaks.

"Lydia," he panted in agony, "we should not be here..." His shimmering green eyes momentarially connected with mine, as he ran his devilishly dark irises along the length of my body - up and down before landing on my lips, and planting a soft kiss. I have never known such bliss, or such rebellion. Something about the impertinence made him so .. exciting. Anthony was the forbidden fruit, and I could not help but take a bite.

"Something about his arrogant countenance displeases me," I thought as I sat near the foot of my bed, staring at the gold trimmed white wall in front of me. To my right, on the nearby wall sat my families tapistry, woven from the finest gold, green, and red threads my ancient family could source. It displayed my families crest - an ornate display of leopards and snakes intertwining a large shield engraved with the family name, Wickham.

This tapestry was purposefully placed in my chambers as a permanent reminder of my duty to the family. No matter the circumstance, it is my duty to populate my family line - and I must do so by marrying well. As far as Viscount Bridgerton goes, he is head of the wealthiest estate in the county. Though I disapprove of him, I cannot deny the advantages of giving him my hand - a sizeable dowry for my future daughters, a place in society, an esate to own; oh, this life would be any womans dream.

Sometimes , late at night when I'm alone , I envision myself as Viscountess and head woman of the Bridgerton house; I will not jest, the idea of such prestige is a pleasant one. The union would bring me a new wardrobe, fine carriages, and luxury beyond anything I have ever known.

Marriage to this rakish man is my one chance of living in such splendor. Why must it he him that I marry? Why could Colin have not been first born? Or Benedict? Why Anthony?

I would rather resign my life away to an artist or a nomad than a man of such disgusting hubris. Nonetheless, I am the first born daughter of my family, and thus I must secure my position. After all, I will be the one responsible for paying their dowries and assimilating them into society.

What a terrible burden.

"Madam?" My ladies maid loudly called out from behind my chamber room door, "it is time to be dressed."

"Already?" panic resounded through my head, "I'm not ready..."

Despite my internal doubts, I beckoned my ladies maid to join me. As she entered the room, I noticed an emerald green silk gown with silver embellishments sprawled across her arms. I had never seen this gown before, a genuine suprise to me.

"Where did you get this?" I asked the ladies maid in an accusatory tone.

She waited to respond, continuing to lay the wrinkles out on the dress - but after a few beats she met my eyes for a moment, "It was picked up today from the modiste," she answered in a flat tone, "I'm told it was a rush order."

This response was shocking at first, for I did not know my mother was already arranging my marriage wardrobe. It is true - the Viscount and I had a whirlwind romance; it had not even been two weeks after we met that we were declared to be married. It had all happened so quickly that night in the garden ...

I remember the way his fair skin shone in the ambient starlight - his radience illuminating the vines around the garden wall - and the way the flowers around us smelled after the fresh rain that evening. He bewitched me with just one flash of that charming smile, just one glance with him was enough to break down my walls and give myself to him. "You are utterly breathtaking," he whispered into my ear, the heat of his breath warming the full of my lips, "I cannot control myself ..." Even the memory was intoxicating - ruining my head all over again.

It was only a kiss. Just one.

Thats all it took.

Now I will be Viscountess Bridgerton - what a terrifying thought.

I wish so terribly that Mrs. Featherington had not been out for a promenade that night. I wish we would have chosen the library, or the closet, or anywhere more discreet ... but the garden? What were we, animals?

My daydreaming was swiftly interrupted once again by a hughty womans voice, "Ma'am" my maid beckoned, "we really must begin.."

I loudly huffed, forced to remember that my time is never truly my own. "Right," I replied, "we must be going soon." She nodded with me in agreement.

With a heavy sigh, I positioned myself in front of my bed post, and grabbed hold-

"Breathe out!" my maid shouted, "Suck in!" she barked, and I did as I was told. She pulled the laces tighter, and tighter around my chest until I was sure my ribs would snap. What would society say then? Would they say I was unfit to marry due to injury? Perhaps I could befall some tradgedy, so I may spare Anthony and I the impending disaster of this match ...

-she began to work on my hair. I watched as she pinned my long stands of platinum blonde hair into an updo upon the crown of my head. She separated thin locks of my hair into tight spirals, exposing the back of my neck and freeing my shoulders from the weight of my hair. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I could see the uncertainty written across my features as plain as day. What if he changed his mind and left me jilted? What if we truly were miserable together? Would I be able to love him?

Ouch! I gasped as my maid mistakingly nicked my scalp with a starp hairpin. She immediately recoiled and appologized, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I did not mean to be so careless-"

I met her eyes in the mirror and cut her off, "It's fine, Mary," I let out a small exhale and looked down at the wooden floor below by vanity, "just continue, please." Mary nodded and swifty began pinning my hair again.

I hate the fuss and the frills and the dancing that is expected of a lady. Its all so ... dramatic! Why should I be forced to ready myself for hours to be considered presentable to society? Why should I not be given the privilege of skipping out on events of the ton like my brothers?

As much as these questions bothered me, I could not focus on them for too long. Mary had finished my hair and powder, which meant I was officially ready to be transported. Mary placed her hand gently on my right shoulder - just next to the lace trimming of my dress, and spoke, "M'lady, its time." I rose from my chair with a grim expression and began straigntening out the front of my dress.

I could not let the Viscount see me in such a distressed state.

"One. Two. Three," I counted slowly, "inhale, exhale .."

"Okay," I said to Mary, "I think I'm ready."

She turned to me and smiled with her dark lips curled into a delicate smirk and her eyebrows tightly drawn. Perhaps she saw the desprate look on my face, or the small bead of sweat forming on my brow, because she felt the need to remind me of my duty.

"You know what you must do," Mary whispered as she grabbed my hands, "you know what must be done."

Her words awoke something in me - something dutiful and ancient. Like my mother, and her mother, and back and back and back, I would marry well and secure my position for my future children.

Though these things were true, I might as well have been walking to the gallows. This was the end of my feedom; my secret horseback rides at dawn, lonesome walks into town, silent nights - these would all be stolen from me within the confines of marriage. My life would never be my own.

One stolen moment in the garden left me bound to a man I could not detest more. The heavens must be frowning upon be in this moment.

[sunflowerskies00]

sun to me, part 6

sweetest of the sunflowers

series masterlist

This date was an utterly bad idea. I didn't even want to go, I don't even like this guy. He's rude, and arrogant, and thinks he's the shit because he plays baseball or some shit. Guess what buddy? I'm a D1 athlete too, you're not that special. I needed out of here, normally this would be an SOS to a roommate with a reason to leave, but Ava had dropped me off and borrowed my car, which meant I needed one of them to come and get me if I wanted out of this date now.

Luke. I knew he didn't have a game tonight, but that didn't mean he wasn't busy. He had also made his feelings about me going on this date crystal clear, telling me that the guy already sounded like an absolute jackass and he thought it was a waste of my time. I had rolled my eyes at him and told him he sounded like Ethan, but unfortunately, he had been right. I also knew I'd never hear the end of it if I called him, but I was out of options.

"Y/N, you listening?" Josh, the guy I'm on a date with, says. He even has a douchebag name. Apparently, I had completely spaced out.

"Yeah, sorry, can you give me like two minutes? I need to use the restroom," I don't give him a chance to respond before I stand up and head toward the hallway where the bathrooms are located. As soon as I'm inside the door, I pull out my phone and click on Luke's name. It only rings a couple of times before he picks up.

"Got sick of the douchebag?" is how he answers the phone, I fight the urge to roll my eyes, even though he's right.

"You were right, he's awful," I mutter. "Ava dropped me off so I don't have my car, and I can't stand this guy, he's a fucking prick, can you-" He cuts me off before I finish my sentence.

"I'll be there in ten," He says.

"Thanks, Luke," I breathe a sigh of relief. I hang up the phone and give myself a couple of minutes before going back out to where the douchebag is.

Josh is scrolling on his phone when I get back to the table.

"Took you long enough," he says. I fight the urge to punch him. This guy is a tool. Why the hell did I agree to this? Oh right, to show Josie that I wasn't 'in love' with Luke.

"Sorry, someone called, it was important," I give him a vague answer. Not that he's entitled to any reason at all. I glance at the clock, mentally willing Luke to get here faster. Josh starts talking about his damn baseball team again, and I'm pretty sure my eyes glaze over I'm so spaced out.

"Y/N," A voice that isn't Josh's pulls me from my spaced-out state. Luke is standing right by our table. Josh looks like he's about to say something, probably something douchebaggy.

"Luke," I try to sound surprised, but I think my voice still comes out as relieved.

"Sorry to crash," he doesn't sound sorry at all. "Somethings up with Bear," he says. I almost let the confusion show on my face, but I remember I told him I was going to get a dog someday soon and name it Bear. He was using my imaginary dog to get me out of here, and I almost laughed. "You know I wouldn't crash if it wasn't serious," he adds.

"I'm sorry," I give Josh a fake sympathetic smile. "I need to go," I go to stand up.

"Wait, who's the dude and who's Bear?" He asks.

"Bear is my dog, and this is Luke, one of my friends, he was dog-sitting for me since I've been out all day, and Bear is still a puppy."

"Wait," I see the realization dawn on Josh's face of who Luke is. "Luke Hughes, you play for the Devils."

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Luke forces a smile.

"We should go, I need to see Bear. Josh, I'm sorry to skip out, but I gotta go," I stand from the table.

"No worries, we can pick this up another time," he says, obviously bothered by the face that I'm leaving.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen. Enjoy your evening," Luke gives him an over-friendly smile before pushing me towards the door, as I hold in my laughter.

----

"That guy was awful," Luke says as soon as we're in his car.

"You talked to him for like 3 minutes."

"And I could already tell he was awful," he points a finger at me.

"Yeah, he was," I agree. He starts driving, and I figure out we're not headed to my house pretty quick. "Where are we going?" I ask him.

"Ice cream," he grins at me. I swear this was his solution to everything. Anytime something was even slightly wrong, we ended up getting ice cream.

"But we have to go check on Bear," I point out. He just shakes his head and laughs at me.

"Your fictional dog is a-ok," he promises. His hand moves from the center counsel and lands on my thigh. The look that passes over his face says he doesn't mean to do that, and I can see him contemplating whether or not he should move it, but he leaves his hand, and I'm left wondering if maybe our platonic relationship is headed towards somewhere not so platonic.

[lidiasloca]

Can you pls write a fic of the folk of the air in the bomb or roach pov, just one of them third wheeling Jude and Cardan.

I have to tell her that I love her (jurdan fic)

During TWK

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

“Liliver?” I hear someone call as they knock hard on the door. I leave the plants on the table and I hear another impatient knock.

“I’m amidst the making of a potion for the Queen.” I shout to the voice outside.

When I hear no response, I walk to the door and open it. In front of me, I see a young-looking knight I recognize from the High King’s guard. I frown, asking with my eyes. “It’s the King.” He says.

I sigh, knowing all too well what he wants from me. Nothing less than immediately curing the High Queen, who had fallen yesterday, almost from the sky, after I shot her, having had quite a deadly fight that had left her very much wounded not long before. Yes, he wants me to do that as soon as possible.

“Where is he?” I ask, clearly irritated, which makes the knight's gaze narrow in accusation to my arrogance for calling him in such a discourteous way. I care not.

“The High King of Elfhame is in the throne room with the Living Council.” I nod with nothing more to say, and start walking.

On my way there I can’t help thinking about him, Cardan, and how he’s been acting lately. I know he’s worried and stressed and sad and all that, but he must understand that even with his royalness, there is no amount of power that’ll make Jude wake up earlier or healthier, but whenever I try to make him understand so, he denies the thought.

I really miss when the Queen was in charge. 

Finally, I get to my destination. I open the doors and among all the Council, I see Cardan having a private conversation with who I think is Randalin.

I’m fairly close to them when the King notices me and waves the man away in a rude way that makes me smirk slightly. Randalin seems offended when he snorts, but he parts anyway.

“Liliver.” It is more of a question the way he says it, so I answer with, “You called for me?”

I can’t help but linger my eyes on his face, not for other reason rather than his considerable bad state. Beautiful or not, everyone can see how tired he is, even sick-looking some would say.

His hesitant voice wakes me up from distant thoughts, “I did. I wanted to talk about something."

He takes a few steps to me. His eyes going for a second behind me, probably checking the Living Council members, who are all too busy talking with each other.

“I wanted to talk with you about something, something that could help my wife.” His wife. As if I didn’t know Jude myself. "Vivienne, her sister, mentioned something about human healers.” I didn’t think he’d go delusional. Not so quick.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He says, mustering a royal tone that doesn't match his desperate eyes.

I stay silent for a moment. I don’t want to hurt him into reality, but I think he’ll be better if he assumes his hand before he has to play. “Cardan, you have to stop this, it’s not good for you. You have to believe she’ll be fine and not force it.”

I’d say he's angry, but then his face turns sorrowful. It surprises me, and I fear the King crying in front of his intimate Council will only shatter the hope that’s been put on the crown to show strength facing the war.

“But will she?” He asks, and as I think about what to say, I take his arm and lead him to the secret room behind the dais to give us some privacy. He smiles sadly as we enter the room, and I’m confused enough to ask.

“It’s not the best choice for a room to put me in, not if you wanted to soothe me.” He answers, making me more confused, his gaze, though, is asking for a change of subject, so I contently obey.

“Cardan, you clearly have a lot going on, we all do, so do yourself a favor and talk to me. I can help you, you know? I could give you advice, put you in place, kill who you ask me to, but you need to talk to someone, and I’m a good option,” I say pretty fast, almost in a breath.

He opens his mouth to talk. He says nothing, though, so he closes it again. 

Silent seconds pass, and then he says very low, “It could work. They are more familiar with human sickness.”

It takes me a moment to realize that he’s talking about the human healers he mentioned, and that he has totally ignored my previous speech.

I sigh and walk to the couch to sit. I gesture him to join me. “Oh, no. I can’t. Not on that couch.”

I frown and ask, "What do you mean, you can’t?" And then, the High King of Elfhame blushes in front of me. He blushes and I understand nothing. I’m about to ask, but then he shakes his head. End of subject, I guess. 

After some seconds, he walks a bit closer to me and says, “Yes,” He says, “I do need someone to talk to.” I smile amicably, feeling triumphant that I might have convinced him.

“So, you’re finally willing to tell me what’s going on with Jude.” His eyebrows go up as if shocked. I’ll think him not too bright if he can’t really believe I know there is something between them two.

“You mean, what’s going on with Jude being severely injured? The High Queen of Elfhame being severely injured?” He asks flatly, believing me not to be too bright. 

“No, I mean, what’s going on with you being this sorrowful because of Jude being injured, as if she hadn’t been injured every hour of every day since we know her.”

He looks taken aback, like if he didn't know that already. “I don't think you understand. The Queen, a great model for Elfhame, is severely injured, just now, that we are at war, and that makes our land very vulnerable. That is what’s going on.” He explains, like talking to a kid.

I’m beginning to get mad, but then... I know him enough to know he’s just trying to avoid the real talk by being his rudest self. 

I put the heels of my hands covering my eyes, my elbows resting in exhaustion on my knees. I can’t believe how, in the middle of a war, my biggest problem still is the feelings of the High King. “Cardan, you can’t really think I don’t know, can’t you? Just don’t act stupid in front of me, please.”

He keeps himself silent too long, so I look up at him and continue, “You and Jude! Oh, please. Don’t make that face. There is something between you two.” I’m almost shouting, and I wonder where the limits of our friendship lie, because, friendly or not, he’s still the King. 

I think he finally surrenders when he says faintly, “How can you know?” I laugh.

“How? Cardan, the way you look at her. The way you keep asking news about her. The way the land had turned dull when you exiled her. The way you are in constant pain because she is in pain. It’s everywhere and it’s obvious.”

For a moment, I can’t help but think of Van, him, who I wish I could say all of this.

But, then, I don’t know what exactly is that Cardan feels. “Tell me, do you-” I immediately stop when I pay attention to him, whose about to cry eyes warn me.

“I do.” He finishes for me, his tone as vulnerable as serious. “I do love her.”

I’m stupidly surprised, since I knew that he did love her, but I didn’t expect he’d admit it.

I stand up and come closer to him, feeling the need to reassure him, because I do know what he’s going through, and I think I need this myself. I put my hand on his wrist, making him look down at me.

Before I can say nothing, he states, “But I can’t tell her that now, and that’s my fault.” I close my eyes at the guilt in his words

I try my best with my choice of words when I tell him, “Cardan, she’ll wake when she will. There is no forcing her body to cure itself faster.”

He stares at me, his expression blank. I expect him to discard the thought, to end the conversation or to stay silent, but then he just nods. Sadness in the way he does so, sadness in his eyes as if with acceptance.

I force myself to continue, “But you know she’ll be fine, right? Because she will.” He looks up at me and gives me a smile that’s not too honest.

“She better be, because I have to tell her," he says eventually. “I have to tell her that I love her.”

-Characters by Holly Black

I'm planning to do one in the Roach's POV when both Jude and Cardan are present, (which was probably more like what the request was about), but I just had this headcanon where Cardan (who has befriended the court of shadows), talks to his friend, the Bomb, after Jude's fall, and yk, he just opens up a bit.

[amarias-yandere-blog]

Ningguang w/ a darling that has depression and struggles trying to get up from bed and do basic things, especially with eating ?

Sorry if it’s a bit much I’ve been struggling lately but take ur time, and if you can’t get to this one, it’s okay — hope you’re having a wonderful trip in AZ! <3

First of all, this isn't too much at all! Your so valid and I completely understand that basic things can take up energy that we just don't have.

Remember that though things are hard right now, it's always worth fighting for, and that it won't be hard in the future. Even if it takes a day, a week, or years, I promise it will get better. This is a reminder to everyone that you're loved, appreciated, and needed. You're all one of my precious followers and readers, and without you guys, I wouldn't be as successful or known as I am right now.

Notes: The reader is not specified, but I did write this with a more-feminine reader bc I myself am female. Remember that I don't condone forceful feedings, actions, or anything that causes someone else pain, discomfort, or guilt. If you are in any relationship, romantic or otherwise, please realize that it is not a healthy relationship and that you deserve so much better.

Also this was answered super duper late and I'm really sorry but I hope you enjoyed it just the same!

Please enjoy!!

💛✨💛✨

I don't know if I can do this

The bed was hot, heavy and comforting.

It was everything that she was not. Despite a warm smile, curved eyes filled with love, sweet words, they were like wisps of clouds across your skin, dampening your mood and making you feel untethered.

But she did try. You appreciated it, really. It just... felt like a lie. Your head couldn't accept it, that she did try, that she wanted to be around you. That she made time for you.

But her hands were cold and light and delicate. Just like the fabric that hugged her abundant curve, like the lipgloss covering her soft lip, delicate and light and untethered, much like her palace in the sky.

"Y/n?" The deep, fine grain voice announced the appearance of the Tianquan. You hummed. Pulling the covers across your head, you decided that you wished for a weight that Ningguang could not provide.

Lofty. Idealistic. Someone who didn't understand how you felt. Soft breaths clouded the air, making it thick and hard to breath. It was hot. Uncomfortably so. But still you stayed, wishing for peace and alone time. And yet the door somehow opened.

Must've accidentally forgotten to lock the door, you thought, waving off the feeling of uncomfort. A heaviness dipped the bed, someone sitting at your hips, and stroking your head. It was silent.

"Y/n... you need to get up." Ningguang spoke sternly, though it wasn't without care or sweetness. "We've so much to see. Beidou will be coming back from port, and I hear she brought herself a souvenir from Inazuma. And the traveler tells me of-"

"Traveler this, Beidou that, let's do this and that." You interrupted, though it was a whisper compared to her power-edged voice. "I don't care. I don't want to go. I don't want to do anything. I want to be alone." Your voice became numb with bluntness. It didn't sound like you. It sounded lost, like whispers in the snow...

"...You haven't been eating lately." Ninnguang states, clearly talking about your shelves that have been gathering nothing but dust for days now.

"Not hungry." You shrugged, despite the voice rumbling deep in your belly. It was a miracle you still looked like you did, actually.

"Dear... you need to eat." Ninnguang's voice is gentle, but also arrogant. She was clearly worried. It just didn't feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough. "Come on, let's get you ready, and then we can go where ever you like for the evening."

"Why do you even care?" You hadn't meant to blurt the question outloud, but it escaped your lips all the same. She looked at you with disbelief.

"Y/n... It's because you're special to me, of course." The woman said it so softly, so warmly, that it was grounding and lifting all the same. "Now please, get up, I haven't got all day." She returns to her normal attitude, but it is not as irrate now.

"Ok..." You lift the blankets from your head, seeing the white-haired girl for the first time that day.

[raven-witch-01]

Hiiiii! I saw you write stories for Diablo and I had to request. Could you write a Inarius x F Reader? Of you could lean on her being a necromancer that would be awesome. I just kinda wanted a senario where after the first mwet with him in the game he starts liking her and is kinda iseing it to take his minf off Lilith.

Sure thing, I'll try my best for Inarius x Necromancer Reader as it is my first Diablo 4 x Reader while seeing the issue of not many Inarius x Reader, so I'll be more than happy to provide it to you although I haven't played it in a while, but I do plan to play it again. The Wanderer company is the Necromancer Reader while the Wanderer is a Rogue and Y/n's dear friend named Jayla, hope you enjoy.

Inarius Pov

After meeting the wanderer along with her company, my thoughts that once filled Lilith with bitterness yet however they were soon to be replaced by the wanderer's company with curiosity. I then hear another set of footsteps which I'm more familiar with "What can you tell me of this wanderer company, Brother Orlin" I turned around to see Brother Orlin kneeling before me "She calls herself y/n, She's a necromancer and company of the wanderer sent by Lorath Nahr, one of the few remaining members of the Horadrim" necromancer like my son Rathma yet I sense that she is not like him, she may prove herself something more than she realized. I won't make the same mistake as I had done with Lilith, perhaps I'll observe this y/n from afar to see if she would be a useful ally or a dangerous enemy for now.

Y/n Pov

"Inarius an arrogant bastard fool if I say so myself" I looked at Jayla knowing that her mouth would get us in trouble considering that Inarius and Brother Orlin aren't far off and could possibly hear Jayla's infamous insults "As much as I love to hear more of you description people that we meet on the first day, I rather live to see the light for another day instead losing both of our heads by his holiness" Jayla chuckle but nodded in the end. We both walk within the Hall of Ascension while feeling the warmth across the halls yet I looked at each painting on every hall we walk pass made me remembering the stories that everyone was told about the High Heavens and the Burning Hells while I was told a difference version of the story, "wanderer, a moment of your time" we both turned around to see Brother Orlin walking towards us "Brother Orlin, we're about to be out of your hair before you know" Jayla told while I let out a chuckle "do not mind her Brother Orlin, she loves to joke around even if the situation has gone bad to worse, even way is there something you need Brother Orlin" "I wish to speak to Miss Jayla in private if I may Miss Y/n" Jayla and I looked at each other before looking back at Brother Orlin "of course Brother Orlin, I'll be near the entrance when you two are finishing talking" I then walked away from them, along the hallways my thoughts were filled with Inarius he seems to be charming in his own way I rolled my eyes sarcastically while thinking he may be the creator of Sanctuary and the Nephalem but so is Lilith, the arrogance of his will soon be his downfall just as many before. A pity that... "You must be Y/n the Necromancer" I immediately stop after hearing angelic voice that I'm now familiar with, although I was told to knee before him I refused to do so which until Jayla gave the look which I had to force myself to knee before him "Indeed, does his holiness need something from me" Inarius was observing me before continuing to speak to me "it seems Brother Orlin has not yet told you of my order" "And what world your order be your holiness" I could tell that it did not impress him when I said sarcastically but seems to choose to ignore it "You are to remain here for a short while as for your company she is more than welcome to leave whatever you like it or not" that bastard "very well, may I at least escort her outside of your home" Inarius nodded. As I was about to find her, she already found me "Brother Orlin as informed of your orders and I refuse too..." I stopped her by holding her shoulder "fear not Jayla, I will be fine just make sure you find the way to open the black lake okay" seeing Jayla looked at me with a worried look before looking back at Inarius with stone cold look "alright than" I than walk her outside of the entrance only for us to feel the warmth disappeared from us face and was replaced with the cold wind blew into our faces "Have I ever told you how much I hated the cold" I let out a chuckle before saying "Many times beforehand, my dear friend and I have a feeling that you will continue to do so in the future" we both laughed while standing outside of the entrance "But for now you must stop Lilith and her plans" "Agreed Y/n, and if we're lucky we'll have a drink or two on the way there" "I don't think I'll drink again for a while after what happened with the previous town that knocked us out then fed us Lilith's blood and then finally tries to eat the both of us" "Fair point, just be careful with this piece of work" I nodded before seeing her off while I went back inside only to feel the cold being replaced by the warmth of the hallway. I looked at the rogue angel only for him to return his chambers, well this is going to be interesting.

Sorry if Inarius pov was a bit short but I'll try do more in a far future.

[rosemary-morgan]

Draco Malfoy X F.Reader - Forbidden flower (Part 1)

(Pictures are not mine! Found on Pinterest/Google - Collage made by myself. OC Jericho Griffin belongs to me.)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

This AU is set 10 years after the Battle of Hogwarts

👉Read Part 2 here

👉 Read Part 3 here

Summary: He knows it is wrong to desire another's wife, especially a friend's wife. But Draco is too selfish and ambitious to accept that. Behind your lovely façade is a woman unhappily trapped in her marriage to Jericho, and Draco knows you'd break the social rules too if you could. But what looks like a seemingly boring marriage is actually more painful and violent than Draco assumes, and soon he will find out what kind of monster your husband really is...

Warning: toxic relationship, abusive husband, angst

Draco Malfoy X F.Reader - Forbidden flower (Part 1)

"The ministry need not worry about such an idiot. He's nothing to be afraid of."

"I agree with you there, Griffin. I don't think the guy is even capable of handling his wand. I mean, just look at him!"

Draco Malfoy and Jericho Griffin, both once Slytherins, worked for the Ministry of Magic. Ten years had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts and much had changed. Draco was no longer caught up in the delusion of pure blood that his parents had taught him. In the last few years he had learned what really mattered in life, for he had seen much suffering, fear and death as well. Never again would he hear about Voldemort and his henchmen. To this day, the young man would not forget what had happened seven years ago; how he had been forced to become a Death Eater and how much damage he had caused. But that was far behind him and yet the memories haunted him in his dreams. This was often shown by the fact that his mind would drift and his gaze would become quite starry. But now Draco was the one who dragged wizards and witches before the law when they practiced black magic. Yet deep inside Draco was still buried something evil, the attraction that dark magic had on everyone. However, he strictly resisted it, for the past had shown what this kind of shit had driven him to do.

"We should focus on important things," Draco finally said as he put the dossier aside and picked up the next one. Draco knew what he was talking about and which sorcerers and wizards should really be classified as dangerous.

Unlike Draco Malfoy, Jericho didn't seem to be motivated, as he sighed and leaned back in his chair, yawning.

"I could really use some vacation!"

Draco just smirked at his words. Who couldn't use a little vacation? Especially since there was always something to do.

"You know Draco, I would like..."

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Jericho called out clearly audible, while Draco searched through the papers to find the relevant informations.

"Jerry?"

Instantly, Draco looked toward the door when he heard Y/N's sweet voice. In her hands, the young woman was holding some documents that were probably meant for Jericho.

"Y/N! There you are!"

"I'm sorry, Jericho! I couldn't come earlier."

The young woman's eyes moved to Draco and he gave her a gentle smile, which she returned shyly. Y/N had known Draco for many years, but their friendship had only begun since her husband started working with Draco. At Hogwarts, the two had never spoken a word to each other, as Y/N had always thought Draco was an arrogant jerk, but he was actually a pretty nice guy. No longer the spoiled, brash and snobbish Slytherin he used to be back at Hogwarts.

Y/N had to keep admitting that Draco had the most beautiful eyes she ever had seen. Still, his eyes seemed sad to her. Y/N knew it was none of her business, even if she would like to know more about the young man. These thoughts kept coming to her whenever she met him. But as quickly as these thoughts came, she had to get rid of them.

The young woman turned to her husband and handed him the documents he had left at home. Y/N had been kind enough to bring them to him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll be on my way home. See you later, Jericho."

"No! I want you to wait for me outside! There's something I need to talk to you about! Draco and I will be done working soon!"

"Oh, okay."

"Now you can go!"

He didn't even look at his wife anymore and just waved her off, hardly seeming to wait to finally get rid of her. The young woman swallowed, looked a bit saddened to the ground, but she didn't give any sign of it. Instead, she said goodbye to Draco. From him, she had his full attention.

"Bye, Draco."

"Bye," he replied softly, glancing after her until she disappeared from the office. Y/N was an incredibly attractive woman, but she seemed very reserved and shy.

  Draco's eyes moved to Jericho. Was he having a bad day? Until a few moments ago he had been in a good mood, but he had been rude to his wife and Draco couldn't understand that at all. Actually, this whole thing should be none of his business, but somehow an unpleasant feeling crept over him. Nevertheless, Draco concentrated on his work again, because this was also important.

While Jericho and Draco sat in the office doing their work, to be more precise, while Draco did his work, Y/N sat outside the door waiting for her husband. She gazed thoughtfully in front of her, her mind kept on wandering. She wondered what Jericho wanted to discuss with her and why she should wait extra for that. Couldn't they discuss this at home? Actually, she had not wanted to spend her days off at the ministry.

But before Jericho would get angry again because she couldn't satisfy him, she preferred to be bored at the ministry. Draco, meanwhile, wondered why Jericho was making his wife wait unnecessarily long. Should he say something?

"Listen, Jerry, I'm going to take a break now. Don't keep Y/N waiting too long if you have something important to discuss with her."

"Oh, she can wait," Jericho said carelessly as he played with his papers rather than worked. Draco frowned a little and finally rose from his seat, rolling his eyes as he did so. Jericho didn't feel like working and Draco didn't feel like Y/N wasting time unnecessarily because of the two of them.

"Really now, Draco? You're leaving already?"

Without another word, Draco was about to leave the office, but Jericho still had something to say to him.

"Dinner with us tonight? How about it, Malfoy?"

The invitation was unexpected, but Draco was willing to accept for Y/N's sake. The blond man looked thoughtfully at the ground before nodding and agreeing to Jericho.

"Sure, why not!"

"Great! See ya!"

As Draco left Jericho's office, Y/N was sitting outside the door, as was to be expected. With a cup in her hand, by what seemed to be a hot drink. It was getting colder as winter announced itself.

"It's getting colder outside."

Y/N looked up in surprise as she was suddenly addressed. She hadn't even noticed that Draco had left the office, but she was all the more pleased to look into his handsome face.

"Yes, I suppose so."

She rose from her seat and walked towards Draco. As he gave her a warm look and at the sight of his blue eyes, her stomach started to tingle like crazy. Draco felt similar when she was around him.

"Are you done with your work?" she asked as she closed her hands around the warm cup, since her fingers were freezing and she wanted to keep them warm.

"Yes. You can go to see him if you like," Draco replied, even though he had to admit that he would have preferred to talk to her some more but Draco reminded himself that she was already tied to another man. Although, deep down, Draco was a selfish man and he liked the countless thoughts of a secret affair with her far too much.

"Yes, I shouldn't keep him waiting," the young woman replied, looking down at the floor for a moment. Jericho could be short-tempered at times, and when he was in a bad mood, he often took it out on her.

"See you soon, Draco. I hope next time we have some time to talk."

Her pretty smile made the man's heart beat faster and he nodded towards her.

"Well, um, I'll see you tonight."

"Oh?"

"Your husband invited me to dinner."

"Really? I mean... sure!"

She was surprised, but not averse to welcoming Draco into her home. However, she wasn't at all set on it as she didn't have much time to prepare a big dinner. Of course, she could save a lot of time with magic, but she preferred to cook traditionally.

"Well, see you later, Y/N."

So they parted ways. Y/N knew it was wrong to think of another man, but Draco's closeness made her feel comfortable. With Jericho on the other hand, she hadn't felt safe for a long time and if she was honest, his closeness made her uncomfortable.

"Jerry?"

The man turned to her, eyeing her from head to toe, before walking up to her and gently placing his hand on her cheek. Y/N was a little surprised at this tender gesture, but she said nothing. Jericho was rarely so gentle with her. The young woman placed her cup on his desk before turning back to him.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Jerry?"

"Draco is coming for dinner tonight," he said as he studied her face closely. Y/N didn't know why he was staring at her like that but she didn't mind so far. Actually, Jericho didn't want to discuss anything with his wife; he just felt like making her wait, to annoy her. Lately, the young man found that he enjoyed making his wife do unnecessary things....

"Wipe off that red lipstick. It looks ridiculous!"

"What?"

Y/N didn't understand why Jericho said that to her. Quite confused, she looked at him, rather he put his thumb on her lips and roughly wiped the color away.

"Jericho!"

She slapped his hand away before touching her lips and trying to salvage what might be possible. But he had smeared the color beyond the corner of her mouth and there was now red lipstick on her cheek as well.

"Are you crazy?!"

"You know I don't like it when you get all dressed up! I hate it!"

"That's none of your business! It's my business!"

But Jericho didn't see it that way. Y/N was his wife. At home, she was allowed to wear what she wanted and even put on makeup the way she wanted - but not outside their marriage. Jericho was terribly jealous because he didn't want other men to look at her. He was afraid that his wife might cheat on him. But with his jealousy mania he broke more than he would save.

Suddenly Jericho grabbed her delicate face roughly. She looked so fragile under his hands.

"You will behave yourself tonight! Do you understand me, Y/N? Or do you want Draco to think I married a tramp?!"

A tramp? Why? Because she had put on some lipstick and blush? Because she liked to wear clothes that flattered her figure? Y/N was stubborn and she didn't care how many times her husband preached that she should dress decently. It was her body and she was allowed to do whatever she wanted. Jericho even forbade her to wear lace. Jericho became more and more possessive, although everything had started so beautifully, and the longer she had to live with him she realized that this man was not good for her.

"Now get out of here!"

When he roughly let go of her, Y/N looked at him with wide eyes. This was the first time he had gotten physical. His grip on her chin had been rough and painful.

"I still have work to do!"

Wordlessly, Y/N left her husband's office, and as she did so, she closed the door firmly behind her.

"Asshole..." she muttered under her breath. The lipstick was completely smeared and she sighed in annoyance. She would have to fix that before she could venture out into the street. She got a few concerned looks on her way to the bathroom, but that didn't matter to her at the moment. She had to understand what had happened to Jericho again.

****

****

Y/N sighed in annoyance as she heard her husband's voice echoing up to her from downstairs in the bedroom. She was fixing her hair when she heard his loud voice.

"Hurry up!"

The young woman just shook her head and looked in the mirror, trying to ignore her husband as best she could, but he called out to her again, and this time even louder. Y/N had already heard Jericho's heavy footsteps as he hurried up the stairs, once he realized that his calls had fallen on deaf ears with his wife. Y/N had really had enough of him today and closed her eyes in exasperation, trying to relax, but it really wasn't easy.

"Are you deaf, Y/N?!"

"I'm not done yet! For god sake!"

"You better behave yourself tonight, Y/N! I'm warning you!"

He was warning her? The young woman turned to him, looking at him in horror. Where was this coming from now? She just shook her head as she looked him over from head to toe.

"The only one misbehaving lately is you, Jerry!"

"Careful, Y/N! Don't you dare talk to me like that!"

The young woman didn't understand anything anymore. Jericho was just talking crazy and she couldn't follow his words at all, because they didn't make any sense at all.

"What are you wearing anyway! Take it off right now!"

Her black dress was figure-hugging, but it didn't show much skin. Admittedly, in the back of her mind, her thoughts had been with Draco when she had chosen that dress. She didn't care that Jericho had objected to it. She wasn't wearing it for him, but primarily for herself.

Before Jericho could say anything else, the doorbell rang and before he turned away from Y/N, he glared at her. Y/N did the same and she narrowed her eyes as she looked after him. This was going to be an unpleasant evening, Y/N was convinced.

A short time later, Y/N left the bedroom and she heard the voices of the two men while she was still standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at the front door. When she saw Draco, she smiled. Jericho greeted his friend as if nothing had happened. He was really good at changing his mood from one moment to the next. She would not succeed so easily, especially since this verbal exchange with Jericho had given her a stomach ache that was getting even stronger at the moment. Fortunately, she was not alone with her husband tonight. It was nice to see a friendly face. The young woman sighed, almost seeming a little excited about Draco's presence, but it was a tingly feeling and it made her forget her idiot husband for a moment. Y/N walked down the stairs and when Draco caught her gaze, the two looked at each other for a moment. Silently, yet with a gentle smile on their faces. The young man's eyes slid up and down her body. All wide were his eyes, for she was so lovely and simply beautiful. But she had always been that in his eyes.

"Y/N! Aren't you going to greet our guest?"

Jericho hadn't noticed the looks on their faces, though he was always very careful about how one met his wife but with Draco, Jericho probably had no actual qualms. And she wouldn't dare look at another man anyway. - he would see to that.

"Hello, Draco."

Y/N skillfully ignored her husband and didn't dignify him with a glance as she walked towards Draco. This did not escape Jericho's notice now and he gave her a suspicious look. However, he held his tongue for the moment.

"Hello, Y/N. You look very beautiful!"

"Thank you."

It was good to hear that, since Jericho criticized her all the time.

"Come on Draco!" Jericho said all of a sudden interjecting. "Honey, could you please take care of the roast? Before it burns and we have to chew on dry buns?"

He did it again. Jericho teased where he could.

"Of course..."

She gave Draco another smile before walking into the kitchen. Draco glanced after the young woman before being invited into the dining room by his friend.

"You have a remarkable home, Jericho."

Draco was amazed as he looked at the interior. It was very clean and everything had its order. Large and spacious, not as big as the old Malfoy mansion, but still magnificent.

"Belonged to my great aunt. Left it to me after she died!" But then Jericho waved it off, "Let's have a toast instead! Y/N!!"

Of course Jericho wanted to make it easy for himself, after all, what did he have a wife for at home? It was her job to take care of her husband. And if she could smile so sweetly at Draco, she could play the waitress all evening. At least, that's how Jericho thought it should be.

"Y/N! Bring the wine for our guest!"

Draco frowned as he heard Jericho call so rudely for his wife. He wondered if he was always so rude? He had been this way with her this morning at the Ministry too, and Draco didn't like that.

"Jericho, it's cool. I can wait for it."

"No, you're my guest and I want to be a good host! I don't want word to get around the Ministry that I'm a bad host!" he said, laughing. The corner of Draco's mouth lifted into a small smile, but somehow the mood was uncomfortable for him right now...

The mood was high-spirited; at least for Jericho. Rather less for Draco and certainly not for Y/N. Just the way Jericho talked with his wife was disrespectful and despicable to Draco. It was obvious that it made him feel sick to listen to Jericho.

"Y/N!"

"Oh, Draco! You're still unmarried! Believe me, the sooner they learn, the better you'll be able to tame your woman!"

Jericho had clearly had too much wine and it was making itself obvious, making Y/N ashamed of her husband. She was more than uncomfortable with Draco having to deal with Jericho's outrageous nature.

"Y/N! Bring another bottle of wine for Draco!"

Draco frowned. For him? Or for Jericho himself? He didn't know what kind of drinker Jericho was. His attention turned the next moment to the young woman who brought a new bottle to the table. Y/N dared to look at Draco again, although this evening was so incredibly embarrassing for her!

At the same time Draco did not judge her, for in the end he felt sorry for her. Draco wondered if it was just the wine that made Jericho act like an asshole?

Y/N was bringing the roast from the kitchen and setting it at the table when Jericho dragged her onto his lap, eyeing her as if she were a piece of meat.

"Jericho!"

Y/N turned her eyes away from Draco, for this situation made her so uncomfortable that she would have preferred to cry. Her husband had no manners, not even towards Draco did he have any shame. The devil had possessed him, clearly!

"Y/N, Y/N! All I want to do is look at my beautiful wife and proudly announce to Draco that you are mine!"

Draco looked at the two of them silently at first, then averted his eyes as well, for it was clear to see that this situation disgusted him. Especially because it seemed to bother Y/N more than anything that her husband was behaving so tactlessly in front of his guests. Draco didn't know his friend like that at all, and he wondered if it was common for Jericho to show his wife no respect.

"Did I tell you that you look lovely tonight, dear?"

Jericho gently stroked her hair to the side, and it was clear that Y/N disliked being touched by him.

Suddenly Draco's voice was heard, for he could bear this situation no longer,

"Jericho? Hold off on the wine for a bit!"

Jericho's rude manner was out of place! Y/N looked tormented and she wanted to escape this situation. But Jericho didn't take it seriously at all; he just laughed and emptied his glass all at once before finally letting go of the young woman. Suddenly, and without warning, Y/N gave her husband a resounding slap in the face. Her handprint was clearly visible on his cheek and she glared angrily at him, which Jericho only returned. His expression turned dark as he slowly turned his face to look up at her. He clenched his jaw tightly, clearly showing the bones pressing against his skin.

"You're acting like the biggest asshole, Jericho! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Draco smiled in satisfaction. He had really earned that slap. Good thing Y/N had done it, otherwise Draco would have stepped in sooner or later and then it would have been more than just a slap.

Y/N was so embarrassed and Draco had seen for the first time how his friend acted at home and this made him bristle.

He would keep an eye on Jericho. There was something very wrong between Jericho and Y/N and his gut told him that it wasn't just the alcohol to blame for it...

[depraved-gf]

How fitting that I would write this exactly two months to the day after I went no contact with this boy. Hm.

Well. You all requested the story of the last boy I ever had feelings for. So buckle up. It's worth it to note that I have BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder), so while I do have a Fearful Avoidant attachment style, if I do happen to find that rare attachment, my feelings can get intense and happen very quickly. I don't get to choose it, but sometimes my BPD can also latch onto someone and make them what's called a Favorite Person (FP).

An FP to someone with BPD is like looking up at God. It can be anyone. You see, an FP can do no wrong, even if they do. You attach to them, connection wise, emotionally, spiritually, and they're your every waking thought. It's toxic for both parties. And for someone with BPD, forcing yourself to detach from an FP feels like LITERAL death.

I've only had 2 of them, including this boy. The one before him was my toxic ex of 14 years. Yes... 14 years, I stayed with my last FP. Do you see why an FP can be detrimental?

Anyway. I met this boy online. We'll call him J.

Y'see, I post on occasion to NSFW reddit. I began doing this after my big breakup to see if someone like me could ever be desirable. Again... This was a very long and neglectful relationship. I've posted on and off, but back in late September, I was posting while I was still FtM (Female-to-Male) and transitioning. This matters.

I received a chat request from this guy. I looked at his profile. Really liked what I saw. Saw that he commented often on another FtM's profile, thus making him okay with my transitioning body - a big plus and a nice refuge from the constant misgendering and need for a "female body."

J messaged me kindly enough. He didn't immediately sexualize me. I mean, he did, but it was welcomed and as expected on NSFW reddit. But he was kind about it. Even funny, really.

I initially didn't respond all that much. A couple times every few days, maybe. In a sea of messages, I don't often have a lot of energy to respond. But it wasn't long when I got the message, "so, if we're going to talk [like this], I may as well get to know the person behind the pics, right?" and proceeded to ask about me. My interests. My favorite things. [Note: I wish I still had the account, but I deleted it entirely so I wouldn't continue to hurt myself while looking back at these messages. I only have the meaningful screenshots left.]

So we talked.

A lot. A lot, a lot, a lot. We got to know each other. Sexted. Made personal videos for one another. And went right back to talking normally. All day, everyday. He lived 3 hours away. I learned that he was the 4th of 12 kids, and he learned that I lost my eldest brother to drugs. I learned his favorite color was purple and he learned mine is nature green. We both were heavily abused in past relationships and never knew what it felt like to be loved or cared for. We both gamed, we enjoyed the same hobbies. He ensured to always ask if he was crossing any gender boundaries, asked me what I preferred to be called, always, always was so considerate towards my transition.

We agreed to talk more and become FWBs. But both of us were so shy and fearful of meeting since we'd never met anyone from online before, so we agreed to talk a little longer. J is the most shy, yet arrogant man I've ever met lmao. [Just my type. Shame on me. I love a god complex.]

Days passed. A week. Two. All day, everyday, J and I would talk. And once I started feeling a little dysphoric about being male, he very quickly switched over to using my preferred pronouns and pet names. It was seamless, and something I never experienced before.

He encouraged me to be the best version of myself. I encouraged him to get back into streaming on twitch, his past relationships always making him quit or mocking him for doing it.

We sent face pictures after being shy. We sent voice notes. He made it a game to try guessing my deadname (with my permission), and when I told him he had to guess extremely early-mid 90s names, he sent me more voice notes. [These, I do still have]. "It's Katherine. No? Okay, dammit. I'm going to get this, Isa, mark my words. [The next day, another voice note.] So I was actually thinkin' about it ALL DAY, but I kinda don't wanna say my next guess because it's gonna be kinda awkward if it's right- [second voice message after I encouraged him to say it] -*a smile in his voice* No, Isa, I do not have the voice of a Greek god, leave me alone *laughs* you're just tryna make me all smiley and shit, motherfucker. Okay, so I was thinkin' it's Samantha, 'cause that's a super 90s ass name, right?"

He had told me I had the voice of an angel and I told him he had the voice of a Greek god. [And tumblr, he did. Ohhhh, he did. Just hearing them again to type it out gave me full body chills. Ugh.]

He trusted me when his aunt unalived herself. Vented to me, said he wanted to take time for himself but that he just couldn't stay away from talking to me, explaining that he didn't even trust his best friends with the grisly details of her death because it was so bad.

I'd also occasionally get 3am messages saying he's thinking about me.

Or little things like, "I can't talk to anyone like I talk to you, Isa." Or while he was driving to work, he'd send me sky pictures since he lives in rural [state], knowing I sort of miss the pretty country skies. "It's so pretty out today, nothing compared to you, though." or-

He'd keep sayin' real cutesy shit like that for a FWB. But then, he asked me to send a few songs his way that would generally explain my music taste. This was the kicker - I was raised in a full musicians household. Music is quite literally my life. It's my home. My sanctuary. So when I sent him over my songs, thinking he'd never heard of my shit, he sent back the same shit. And we agreed to go see August Burns Red in early December. Our first meeting was going to be a concert for a band we both loved. [Yes. Ouch, in hindsight. I ended up not going, obviously.]

So the mf made me a whole playlist on Spotify since it's what I use. And I made him one on YouTube premium since it's what he used. And I shit you not, it's just about the same fucking music. Really freaked me out but in the best way.

Then... After more days passed, I had a really, really bad night. Y'see, I suffer from gallbladder issues from my very fluctuating weight throughout my life. I have EDs (eating disorders) - I've been in the 80lb category before, and I've also been up in the 280s. I've not been kind to my body and this is my payment. One night, I had a particularly bad episode. If you've never had a gallbladder attack, imagine the most intense pain you've ever experienced - now, take it and form it into a very sharp, spiky, WAY too small rubber band, and wrap it around your entire abdomen across your sternum and around your back. Deal with that 12/10 pain for a full day, nothing touching it, and then deal with the aftershocks of it for a full week after. [I have doctor phobia. Leave me alone. I manage.]

I had a particularly bad attack, and J was there. We hadn't done much else except talk on reddit and occasionally snap or text and send cute voice notes. But that night, he remembered that I mentioned finding comfort when my ex would play games while I was sick. I love to watch people play games if I'm not the one actually playing for once. It relaxes me. It reminds me of the simpler times when my brother and I would stay up and play Final Fantasy until the early morning hours. J did something I didn't expect, though - on Discord, he offered to call me while he played his game before he had to stream with his friends. We hadn't talked on the phone before this, both of us just far too shy and afraid to fuck it up.

But he did. He called me. And it was awkward, and it was adorable, and so, so endearing. It comforted me through the immense, blinding pain. It didn't seem so bad when I had that voice comforting me in my ears.

He even stayed on a little later and made his friends wait to ensure I was comfortable, before he hung up to stream. And even then, this man had always been so good about texting during his game even when I told him to "focus, dummy!<3." I turned on his stream after that and I fell asleep to his voice. In what was once searing pain, I managed to fall asleep.

But y'see, J wasn't just super sweet. He was possessive. When I posted on reddit, he'd always tell me how jealous he got that I was talking to others, even passively in my comments. Again, a huge turn on for me. He told me I was his. That he'd come show me who I belonged to.

Eventually... We confessed that we had feelings for one another. "You got me actin crazy, I've never given out my number to anyone online, I be thinkin' about you at 4am all the time, workin' to keep you around... I'd say I prolly do [have feelings]."

It got serious after that when he confessed it truthfully without jokes. That one is for me.

Oh, and here's me, in all my flirtatiously awkward glory:

What a surprise, Isa doesn't know how to flirt.

But... Some things didn't add up after a while. He didn't like to snap much, instead opting to remain on reddit. He kept making the time to meet later and later, eventually saying he likely wouldn't be able to come up until late January, and this was mid-October. I expressed my concern on the matter, saying that I understood his hesitation if he wanted to take time, but also that I was admittedly upset after I was the one who already bought our tickets and accommodations and shit. And it seemed to be fine. "Aight listen, you're right, I'm sorry. There really is no reason, I was just scared of fuckin' this up. If my babygirl wants to see me sooner, then imma make it work. ABR [August Burns Red] it is, send me the ticket again." [<- REMEMBER THIS!!!]

Then, we'd get into tiny little spats.... Where he'd then say shit like, "well it's not like we know each other, goddamn." And be immediately cool with ending it.

But then he'd apologize for acting up. "If I'm acting dumb just tell me and I'll act right"

It was small things at first. Then he suddenly started getting distant.

I wouldn't hear from him a whole lot. And so when I communicated and asked him what was up, October 19th, he finally spoke up and said he was angry that I made him feel forced and rushed to come see me.

And y'know what I did?

I apologized. Cried to him. Begged him to stay and that I'd be better. Felt like such a shit person for making him feel forced, even though I went back much later into the messages and saw that I was extremely understanding about his anxiety, and only upset about the plans after he had me buy the tickets/accommodations.

Looking back, it wasn't my responsibility to read through the lines of him retracting back to agreeing to go. And it ended up being a cop out. [I'm getting to this. Just trust me.]

So we talked normally after that. Even sorta flirted like normal, but it was strained. You could tell.

"Makin' me do the lil smiley thing again" he said to our little Mr. Miyagi banter. [An inside thing...]

October 21st, though.

9pm.

"Isa. I wasn't going to tell you this, but you deserve to know.

I learned about a week ago that I got my girlfriend pregnant. And ion wanna keep doin this shit with you if imma make it right. No reason we can't still be friends tho?"

...what- HUH?!

My heart exploded. I couldn't breathe. I tried so hard to physically hold myself together where it felt like my core was going to snap in half. I was dying. Dying. DYING.

He explained that he was planning to break up with her for a while because it began as a drug relationship and they don't really talk since he got clean, but that she's very volatile and he's afraid of what she'd do if he left.

I simply wished him well and went no contact.

I was dying. Dying. DYING.

I watched his streams just to hear his voice one more time. I listened to the voice notes. I needed him. I craved him.

Pleasecomebackpleasecomebackpleasecomeback

I did my own research. Turns out they were engaged.

I was dying. Dying. DYING.

I drank myself to near death. Jameson Black Barrel Whiskey will never taste the same. Countless hours spent venting to my poor roommate. Yelling. Screaming. Feeling hollow. Empty. Dead.

He was my FP, and now he was dead.

...............

About a month later, mid-November, I got a reddit message. "Is it bad that I still come to your page to check on you?"

My response was surface level. I wasn't strong enough not to respond yet. But I did leave him on read after that. "Well, you know I'll always be a fan of you."

Maybe 2 weeks later, I had seen that he was streaming with a camera on this time. I watched him. The way he carries himself, his voice, his mannerisms. I was okay for the most part, but it was bittersweet. Like an old flame.

I saw him look down at his phone, and Bing! My phone went off.

"I see you on stream 👀"

And he got visibly more excited. Animated with the game. More talkative and smiley.

And then I left. I deserved that power play. And I haven't been back.

I deleted my reddit account after that. Didn't want to look back. Didn't want the memories. Started up my backup.

And last night, at 2am, I got a chat request from a familiar name.

And here we are.

I still think about him at least a couple times a day, but it's fleeting. Like looking back at an old flame, like I said before.

I learned that situationship breakups hurt worse than relationship breakups do, because you weren't able to see the bad side of it yet.

But oh, me.

Boys, boys, boys.

Y'all drive me fuckin' crazy.

So, here's to you, J.

[vilandel]

Silver Cats & Black Roses

Chapter 9 – Two and a half Realizations

A/N I love the tile of this chapter, it is such a good sum up of what is happening 💜💙 And Nozel definitely has problems with one of his knights...

Ao3 link

♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣

“I have more than enough of your excuses, Samuel.”

“But, captain Nozel-“

“What did I just say? Stop with your pitiful excuses. We both know that none of them are even true.”

Samuel Évantail tried to talk again, but Nozel just glared at his knight, making him close his mouth again. Good, not only would he have said something terribly stupid, but he also had a terrible, screeching voice, making your ears bleed. Nozel refused to listen to him more than necessary.

“You have no right to protest that you didn’t got a star on the last mission. Do you really think I haven’t read the rapport Rob Vitesse and Alysanne Dragonstone wrote about it? Do you really think I wouldn’t listen to Julia Ambrosia about her complaints?”

“But that old lady is senile, she should have retired a long time ago, she doesn’t think-“

“Julia Ambrosia has one of the best and straight-up spirits in this squad, despite her old age. It was her choice to not retire and given the energy she still has, it is clearly not a loss for the squad. Besides, you should show more respect to the elderly. Don’t you dare think I haven’t heard about how you insulted Curtis Warren two days ago?”

“It was his fault, he-“

“You tried to force your chore duty on him, despite him being of a far higher rank than you.”

“But he’s from low nobility!”

“Curtis Warren is still a noble and he’s acting with more nobility than you by miles. Do you think I forgot how badly you talked about the Wizard King when his current form became public knowledge? And just after he thanked every squad for the help they gave to the civilians in the Forsaken Realm.”

Samuel looked down in shame. He was arrogant, yes, but even he knew that insulting the current Wizard King was something all squad captains and almost every Magic Knight wouldn’t tolerate. Even the majority of the nobles would think twice before talking ill of Julius Novachrono.

“Back on that mission,” Nozel continued coldly. “Rob Vitesse, Alysanne Dragonstone and Julia Ambrosia pointed out that you took a toilet break during most of the mission and that you only came back when everything was over. Not even barely, you had no action taken during this mission, why do you think you would deserve a star?”

Samuel looked like he wanted to reply, but of course, with what Nozel just said, he didn’t had any counter argument.

Which didn’t meant he wouldn’t still try, sadly.

“You should be ashamed,” Nozel said in a colder tone. “Do you really think you can call yourself a knight when you just wearing the robe of your squad? A robe means nothing if you don’t act like a knight. Protecting the kingdom and his inhabitants is a knightly duty and it takes many forms. Even helping people who are commoners or peasants. We Magic Knights often failed them in the past, as I witnessed it myself. And before you say something stupid again, commoners and peasants are also essential to the kingdom. With this mission, you had also the opportunity to learn it directly and you didn’t took it. This is on you alone.”

Samuel bit his under lip, clearly holding back to say something. Nozel knew that it wasn’t because he was ashamed and regretted what he did. No, like most Évantails, Samuel was too blinded by noble rank to care about anything that would go against his arrogance.

And he was stubborn. Nozel knew that there was no way he could make Samuel understood where he did fail. But not scolding him would be wrong. Samuel might have only be accepted as a Silver Eagle because of the centuries old agreement the squad had with house Évantail, but that shouldn’t be an excuse to let him pass with his intolerable behaviour.

“Did you also felt unnecessarily insulted because your half-sister was also sent on this mission? Samuel, after being part of the Silver Eagles, of a Magic Knight squad, for six years, you should have learned that it is also necessary to team up with people you don’t hold in your heart, for the sake of the kingdom. Putting your pride aside won’t kill you. Besides, unlike you, Grenadine took the mission seriously and got rewarded with a star.”

“She is a shame!”

“To house Évantail maybe, but not to the Silver Eagles.”

“No, she is also a shame for the squad! It was a mistake of you to even accept her as a Silver Eagle.”

Oh, now Samuel was concerned about the squads reputation?

Nozel closed his eyes, trying to not get affected by this pity accusation. He was used to it, after all. Since more than seventeen years, he was used to so-called critics and accusations, to a point that he couldn’t even recognize if it was ill-intended or actually to help him.

In appearance, he had the reputation of being a perfect royal, of being a perfect royal Head of House. But behind that golden curtain, the truth was something entirely different.

Even when he didn’t took other people than nobles and royals in the Silver Eagles, so many people already had critics about him. Whatever he did, it was never good enough for nobles, for most royals and his father always used his so-called failures for his own goal, whatever this was.

But now, with Grenadine, he made a really bold move, which made the offences clear instead of subtle. Of course so nobles felt for some reason personally insulted that he took a noble bastard daughter in his squad. Nozel admitted that he wasn’t the most open-minded royal, but he respected strengths, even from people outside his class. The Black Bulls magicless peasant proved himself very quickly and even rival worthy. In fact, all the Black Bulls were strong in their own ways. Especially Noelle, who bloomed in this squad who never cared about her past reputation. And Vanessa, of course… Even though her strength wasn’t only due to her magic, of that he was certain.

Grenadine was like that as well. She might be a bastard, but no Évantail was able to wield and control fan magic like she did. She was clever with her magic and never let her bastard status hold her back.

Considering the captains, Yami, Jack and Dorothy were also examples. A foreigner, a commoner, a witch and yet, each one of them had unique magics and were strong in their ways of using it. In some cases, it was hard for Nozel to recognize strengths of others, but he still did, because it was better for the kingdom to work together than to cling on arrogance.

And when he saw how most nobles still clinged on their status and privileges, Nozel decided that it was actually much easier to swallow his pride.

“You shouldn’t question my decisions that easily, Samuel. If you can’t continue in this squad, we could of course transfer you to another one. Although I highly doubt that you would be happy in any squad, since none of the other captains think that bastards are unworthy to be one of their knights.”

“I just thought, that… you took some liberal decisions considering the squad,” Samuel replied and immediately put his nose high in a snob attitude.

Liberal… For most nobles and royals, this was considered the biggest insult. And Nozel wasn’t known to be the most open-minded, so Samuel obviously hoped to have hit a hurtful point.

But Nozel didn’t care about so-called critics against himself. If someone wanted to hurt him, his mother had to be involved somehow or his siblings, his Vermillion aunt and cousins, his rival, most of his knights. Vanessa as well, at this point, even though he still didn’t quite know why.

Why was he thinking so much about Vanessa?

“The squad comes before my own preferences. If a liberal decision is more beneficial than a traditional one for the Silver Eagles, of course I take the liberal one.”

“Don’t you have any pride anymore?”

“You can still leave the Silver Eagles, if you can’t take it to be commanded by a liberal captain. With how you are now, it won’t be a big loss the squad. So, if you don’t want to leave, you better get a grip of yourself.”

“You can’t throw me out, the Silver Eagles have a contract with my house!”

“And when did I say that I will throw you out?”

It was sadly true, he couldn’t throw Samuel out because of that agreement between the Silver Eagles and house Évantail. If only he could at least exchange Samuel for another Évantail. But most members of this house were such a pain, so Nozel highly doubted that he could exchange one horrible knight for another horrible knight.

Samuel was about to reply when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

Grenadine entered, a bunch of envelopes in her hands. Samuels eyes hardened as he saw his bastard half-sister. Nozel sometimes wondered why he never blamed his father, Cygnus Silva, for having conceived a bastard daughter. Then again, it was almost like a golden rule within nobility to always blame the bastards for their existence and never their noble fathers.

Another reason why Nozel hated adultery.

But it was actually pretty obvious that Samuel and Grenadine were half-siblings. Like any Évantail, they both had delicate, angelic traits, an elegant frame which gave each of them naturally elegant gestures and of course, the typical turquoise coloured eyes. But while the Évantails had either cold or pastel hair colours – Samuels had baby blue hair – Grenadines hair colour was a dark, strong red. Not to mention that her eyes were always brightening. Most Évantails Nozel knew made the turquoise of their eyes dull with their arrogance, which was honestly impressive for such a vibrant colour.

“What are you doing here?” Samuel asked, not hiding his disgust.

Grenadine didn’t answered, she only went to Nozel and handled him the envelopes over. “Some evening letters for you, vice-captain Agatha told me to give them to you, but she doesn’t think it’s anything urgent for now.”

“Oh, now you’re bootlicking the vice-captain too? Must be easy, she is just from low nobility.”

Both Nozel and Grenadine turned towards him with such a cold glare that Samuel actually got a bit scared.

“I’m not bootlicking and it’s not my fault that YOU can’t bootlick anyone in the Silver Eagles, dear brother.”

“Samuel, have you already forgotten the talk we just had? I won’t tolerate how you talk about my vice-captain. Sure, Agatha Austen might not be from high nobility like you, but she’s done more to the squad than you ever did. Why do you think I have chosen her as my vice-captain? Now leave and think about your attitude. Because if you continue, I will report to the Wizard King. And trust me, you being from high nobility and house Évantail won’t help you in this case.”

Samuel looked like he was about to explode, but thankfully, he was clever enough to not reply. He just run out of the captains office and slammed the door behind him. Which wasn’t very suited for a noble, ironically.

“With all due respect, captain Nozel, I don’t think Samuel will question his behaviour. He’s a lot like… our father.”

“I know. I will need to report him to the Wizard King soon. You can leave now, Grenadine, good evening.”

“Good evening, captain Nozel.”

Grenadine was about to open the door, before she actually stopped and turned again.

“Um, captain Nozel?”

“What is it?”

“I just… wanted to thank you for giving me a chance. I think you’re the best squad captain in the Clover kingdom.”

Nozel was taken aback by this compliment. It was so unusual. Even more, it was normal that he gave Grenadine a chance, she proved herself very well at the entrance exam and never stopped since she joined his squad.

But it seems to mean a lot to her.

Nozel had no idea how take compliments, so he just nodded. Grenadine wished him a good evening again and left the office.

What was with the compliments, lately? First Vanessa who never stopped those with her flirty nature. And now, Grenadine thanking him for that chance he gave her and saying he’s the best squad captain in her books. That was not like the fake compliments nobles would gave him on balls and receptions, Vanessa and Grenadine were more genuine. Something he wasn’t used too since…

Well, he better look through the letters before he’ll take his evening. He would have loved meeting with Vanessa again, but she had a mission with some her squadmates today in a dungeon, which meant she would need rest once she returned.

Somehow, it made Nozel sad. He enjoyed her company, it was soothing for his soul. He knew he didn’t deserved her kindness, but once it was with her, that thought didn’t seemed important anymore.

Why did Vanessa had such an effect on him? She was just being nice and surprisingly enjoying his company as well, it seems. Which he didn’t understood, but it didn’t seemed that important.

She even loved the sewing box he got her a few days ago. In fact, Vanessa was enthusiastic about it and she lately told him she already started to use it for a special project. She winked at him while telling him this and Nozel didn’t know what she should think about it. But Vanessa was happy, this was the most important.

Back on the letters, Nozel admitted that Agatha had been right. There was nothing urgent, which meant he could go home earlier than usually today. A perspective that didn’t appealed to him, since he wouldn’t see Vanessa today.

Why was he immediately thinking about her again?

As he reached the last letter of the pile, Nozel froze. He recognized the seal. He recognized the handwriting. He even recognize that high-quality paper with the branded initials on it, L.S. on the left upper corner.

His father wrote him.

Nozel felt anger and fear dangerously mixing up within him. How bold of his father to write him directly at the Silver Eagles headquarters after leaving him and his siblings alone in their time of need and always trying to put him down in order to go higher.

How dare he write him after years of ignorance, disgusts and attempted manipulation? How dare try to get contact again after he put him down during the few times he visited after his wife died? How dare he sent a letter after he didn’t even appeared at his wife funeral?

Nozels hands were shaking while he was holding the letter. Remembering all the times his father ignored the affection and love his mother was giving him, using her position and her house for his own goal, whatever that was. Nozel couldn’t forget how that man definitely broke his mother’s heart that fateful day…

What did Lac Silva wanted from him? Nozel knew that it was something for himself, not for any of his children. Should he read the letter? Should he ignore it? No one could knew what that man was up too. Last hope of a house of low nobility, he abandon them and manipulated three royal house heads good enough to get a perfect marriage. Not to mention he managed to have perfect reputation within nobility, he was loved, considered perfect royal even though he wasn’t born into royalty and even though he was now widowed.

Nozel hadn’t heard from his father for so long. Seven years, maybe even ten? He didn’t know. So, after all this time, what did Lac Silva wanted?

Slowly, he broke the seal and took a prudent look at the first lines.

Like always, fake kindness, apologizing that he couldn’t be here, that he will stay in another country for longer due to his diplomatic skills. Nozel probably should stop before he came to the part where his father put him down with all his glorious subtility.

Suddenly, a word got his intention and made him froze even more.

Marriage.

Son, you can’t stay a bachelor for the rest of your days, you even should have been married years ago. Given your incapacity to choose a bride, it’s better that I…

Nozel didn’t continue to read. He stood up, took the letter, ripped it in so many pieces that it couldn’t be put back together again, throw it into his bin and left his office and his squad, all that in not even one minute.

As he flew back home, Nozel tried to calm down his anger.

He haven’t thought about his duty of an arranged marriage lately. The bonding of his sisters, the still new peace the kingdom lived after Spade and Vanessa filling most of his rare free time… That uncomfortable thought didn’t seemed that important anymore.

But now, with his father talking about it, even mentioning he would take this matter in his own hands… Nozel now hated that perspective even more.

He never liked it in the first place and it had been more for his siblings freedom on that matter than for the reputation of house Silva.

But now that his father talking about finding him a betrothed, Nozel loathed that perspective of an arranged marriage even more.

Lac Silva would choose a party who would not be beneficial for house Silva, but for himself. Nozel knew his father. If he let him decide over him like a marionette, Nozel would either get married to a noble lady from a house who owed a lot to his father or to a woman through which Lac Silva would get better control not only of house Silva, but maybe even more.

Nozel refused to be a chess piece. His father might be popular and have influence. But he wasn’t head of house Silva. Nozel was. The decisions concerning the Silvas were his, it wasn’t his father’s political chess plate.

Besides, he was out of the country right now and enjoying the diplomatic missions the king gave him so much, he won’t come back so soon. He said it himself once, years ago, to insult him and Nozel knew, his father was many things, but he never lied. In fact, Lac Silva used the truth to gain what he wanted and put others down. Especially his children.

Nozel hoped it endlessly. If he never saw his father again, it would be the best on many levels.

Oh, how he wished he could meet Vanessa right now. She always had that mysterious talent to somehow soothe his worries for a while, to make his problems smaller as long as she was with him.

But he couldn’t allow himself to be selfish and wanting her presence every time. Vanessa also had a life outside of their meetings, the Black Bulls were like her family and as such, more important for her.

It hurt a bit, but he could live with that. He lived with that for more than seventeen years, since his mother died… It what he deserved, after all the wrongs he did.

At least, thinking about Vanessa was already enough to calm himself down a bit. How can she had that effect on him, even when she wasn’t here?

When he arrived at the Silva palace, one of the head butlers told him that he got a package today, which looked mostly like a present, and the servants were so free to put it in his bedroom.

Nozel frowned. Why would he get something? His birthday wasn’t until the end of the year and why would he of all people get something out of the blue? He did nothing that would deserve a spontaneous gift in return.

Still, he was curious. And he hoped it was nothing from his father. Every time that man gifted something, as rare as it was, it was mostly another tool for his own goal.

As Nozel entered his room, he immediately saw the present on his bed. It was covered with brown paper and there was a letter on top of it. The brown paper was already a proof that it wasn’t a present from his father. Nozel sighed in relief.

He first took the letter. If he wanted to know who gave him a present and for what reason, this is where he needed to start.

Hello there, Stud!

Hope you had a good day today. Sorry I can’t meet you, but it was a long mission and I need some rest. Which sucks, I hate it when I can’t see you, you’re one of the best company I know. But at least, I can send you this. Yep, handsome, it’s a present for you! Made thanks to the amazing box you gifted me! I told you already, but I LOVE that box so much! And I thought you deserve a treat too. So, the first thing I made using the material in the box is for YOU! As thanks, for many things and because I love being with you. Hope you like it. I used silver threads for the embroidery, I haven’t forget that you prefer silver over gold. But I used a fabric with darker colour, because you look so good with darker colours. I haven’t forgotten how handsome you looked at Finrals wedding, in fact, it was my inspiration for this gift. Don’t worry, I choose a colour that goes well with silver, but to be fair, I think any colours goes well with silver.

Your absolute favourite witch

Vanessa

Nozel couldn’t help it, a small smile appeared on his lips. Vanessa was always so full of joy, even when she wrote letters. But he still couldn’t forget that she could be sad and upset as well. Sometimes, he wondered if she just hide her sadness, ignoring it. Hopefully not, he knew first-hand how terrible this could feel. But unlike him, Vanessa didn’t deserve that kind of terrible feeling.

He wanted to comfort her when she was sad.

Nozel frowned. Did that thought just came to it like that? As if it was only natural for him to comfort Vanessa…

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Nozel now focused on opening the package.

The first thing he felt was satin. High quality satin. One of the fabrics he gifted her along with the box?

It was indeed a piece of satin. Burgundy satin, with some silver embroidery representing vaguely branches and leaves with birds. But in the middle of those birds and leaves, there was something like an eagle and a cat, standing really close to each other.

This embroidery was really a work of art. None of the royal tailors were able to create something like this and Nozel doubted that even the ateliers of Soie Velours ever did managed such a magnificent embroidery on their creations.

Putting the piece right in front of him, Nozel realized that it was a one shoulder cape. A bit like the one he wore on his ceremonial suit at the royal wedding. But somehow much prettier. How did Vanessa remembered so well what he wore back then? Sure, they had danced together, but still.

Nozel wanted to try it, so he went out of his knight robe and tried the cape on.

How surprised he was to find out that it fit him perfectly. Also, burgundy suited him better than he thought. Red wasn’t his usual colour, but this shade? It was perfect somehow. After all, it wasn’t a Vermillion kind of red.

No, this shade reminded him of Vanessa.

Vanessa…

As he took his new cape off, Nozel couldn’t help but bury his face in it. Somehow, he could smell Vanessas scent, the cheap but sweet rosewater she always used. As if she was right there with him…

Wait. Did he really just thought that? By smelling a one shoulder cape? Why did he smell it in the first place?

There it was again, the uncertain feeling he always had since his talk with Fuegoleon. Alone in his room, thinking every passing second about Vanessa… and what she was to him.

Fuegoleons words basically haunted his nights, when he wasn’t thinking again and again about Vanessa. Or when he wasn’t sleeping. His thoughts about Vanessa were a different matter, because she not only haunted his nights, but also his dreams.

It wasn’t that much at the beginning, it became more frequently only after they started to interact more and more, since almost a month. But if Nozel was honest, maybe all started originally from their talk in Spade… 

It was as she bewitched him somehow and knowing Vanessa, it was surely not on purpose. But it became almost impossible for Nozel to not think about her. Even when he was working at the Silver Eagles, even during the captains meeting. He was not as attentive as he was before during those reunions. And he had been one of the few captains to pay the most attention!

It should have upset him to not be this attentive anymore. But he wasn’t.

Nozel sighed. He let himself fall on his big canopy bed, lying with his back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling, as if he hoped it would gave him answers. As if a ceiling could give any answers.

Or did he already know his answers? Was he just afraid of them and so, tried to avoid them with ignorance? Why wouldn’t he have realized it?

Was he overthinking this matter?

Fuegoleon pretended to be sure that he was in love. Nozel had first find it ridiculous. He couldn’t be in love, because… of many reasons. He was unable to feel romantically, he didn’t deserved it, he just made a friend who was kind and caring, just because he wasn’t attentive as before or thinking about her practically every day, didn’t meant that he was in love.

And many other reasons that were more or less ridiculous. Nozel felt so embarrassed thinking about them.

But it didn’t took long before Nozel realized something. If it really was true that he wasn’t in love… Why would he then still convincing himself over and over again that he wasn’t love?

Since then, it had been like this. He was frozen, denial behind him and the unknown truth right in front of him.

Nozel still had so many questions. Was it really possible to fell in love this quickly? What consequences will that have for him, his house and his siblings? Would he be able to choose between duty and his heart?

He groaned, hiding his face between his hands. Every question revealed other questions and for some mysterious reason, each one hurts. Especially… Was love even an option for him? Nozel Silva, head of house Silva and captain of the Silver Eagles? Brother of Nebra, Solid and Noelle Silva? Son of the late Acier Silva?

Mother…

She had been in love. With her husband. Some would consider her really lucky, since it was an arranged marriage. But Aciers love had been one-sided, Lac never loved her back. She was just an important step for his own goal.

It had broken her heart when she finally realized it. Romantic love didn’t brought her joy. Often Nozel had wondered if that would be the case for him as well, if he ever would fall in love.

Slowly, his eyes wandered to his bedside table or rather, to the two small pile of books on it. Another memory of his mother he refused to flee anymore. Romance novels she had loved and to be fair, he loved them too.

Wasn’t it kinda ironic he, of all people, had a secret appreciation for romance novels? This wasn’t something he wanted to be out in the open, but… Nozel wondered what Vanessa would think of it. He suspected her to be a romantic, given how sometimes she would rant and even complaint about some of her squadmates being too oblivious to love. The names Gauche and Grey fell most often, but sometimes she complained about Yamis dense mind as well.

And there, he just thought about her again. It’s he couldn’t stop at all.

One pile were novels about courtly love. Tales of very old times, back when Magic Knights weren’t divided in squads, when knights were just serving their king and their country, riding from one place to another, defending widows and orphans. Back when a knight offered his heart to a lady of his choosing, even when they couldn’t be together. Loving from afar in all innocence, without hoping for more and cherishing that pure emotion.

Nozel often thought that if, if he would ever fall in love, that only this kind of romance would be possible for him. He was more than aware of his duty for an arranged marriage. At least with courtly love, there was not such a risk as adultery. He would just offer his heart to someone, without hoping for more and do his duty while cherish that feeling of purity in his heart.

But that vision didn’t seem very appealing anymore.

The books of the other pile were novels from his mother favourite author. Romance novels, simple romances with happy endings, but those still touched the soul and the heart very deeply.

Pride & Prejudice, Persuasion, Sense & Sensibility…

Nozel knew the titles of each of those novels by heart. They weren’t as sad as the courtly love novels and more hopeful. Some of the male heroes were aloof, like him only in certain ways. And still, they did find love.

But none of them had done such horrible mistakes like he did and they were just fictional. Wasn’t that another proof that it wasn’t possible for him, that he didn’t deserved that kind of happiness?

That mantra had followed him for so many years and for the first, Nozel wondered if he was maybe lying to himself.

He had a few crushes in his life, yes. But he had to admit that concerning romance, he was completely clueless. Except with romance novels, but those were just fiction, they didn’t count.

So, how could he be sure he was in love?

Of course, he could ask someone. But Nozel immediately groaned at the thought. No, he couldn’t. He still had his pride and it was so… ridiculous. Him, a captain, a royal, asking for help because of… love. Besides, who could he ask? His Vermillion aunt? Fuegoleon, who was apparently in a happy relationship? Kaiser, who was apparently happily married? Another captain? But the rest of the captains were all single. Okay, Charlotte was in love. But she wasn’t in a relationship and she was in love with Yami! Who was Vanessas captain! No, that just couldn’t go. Besides, Nozel didn’t even want to ask anyone for help.

Actually… No, that was wrong. There was one person he definitely wanted to take advice from. But that person was dead and buried since over seventeen years.

“Mother… what would you tell me to do?”

Nozel waited in the silence of his room. But of course, there was no answer. He didn’t even know why he even expected her to respond him. Nozel tried to imagine his mother talking to him. But he couldn’t.

Not because he was unable to imagine Acier Silva talking to him. But because next to her, Vanessa appeared in his mind. Both smiled at him, with their completely different smiles and still in a way so similar.

Acier Silva, Vanessa Enoteca. Two different women, from different circles, who never met, never knew each other.

But for him, they became somehow equally important.

One was dead, the other was alive.

One was his mother, the other was… was…

“Why don’t you smile more often, stud?”

That gorgeous smile…

“You really should stop working so much.”

That gentle care…

“Guess it’s too much to ask for letting me do your braid.”

That laugh, like waves crashing on the beach…

“Let’s go to our café again, shall we?”

That kindness…

“You know, you can look me in the eye when you talk to me.”

Those eyes, like amethysts in the sun…

“Thank you so much for the gift!”

That joy…

“Your hair looks really great in the sun. Guess that silver is more shiny than gold.”

Those hair, that breathetaking shade of rosewood…

“Don’t you have any baby Noelle stories to tell me?”

That genuine curiosity…

“Like what you see, handsome eagle?”

That frame…

“Thank you for holding me…”

That gratitude…

Nozel slowly took his new one shoulder cape, holding it close to him. He had no idea where he would go with this. He ignored if he could keep the secret forever or if he would be unable to just do like the knights with their ladies in the novels. He had no idea what the next steps were supposed to be.

But…

“I love her. I love Vanessa Enoteca.”

It was just a whisper, but Nozel had the feeling that his words echoed through the whole Silva palace.

♣♣♣

The cemetery of Heladise just looked like any other cemetery in the Common Realm. Crosses and gravestones on grass. A tree here and there. Some tombs looked like they were taken care of, but must were probably abandoned a long time ago.

But Yami didn’t care about that. He cared about the investigation and even more about Charlotte.

Seriously, why did Goldie Guts speech from a few days ago making him think and overthink EVERYTHING about Prickly Queen?

Yami side-glanced at his companion. Charlotte was focusing on the tombs, searching for the mother of her half-brother. A dash of sadness and compassion was shining in her eyes and for him, it made the blue of her orbs even more brightening than normal.

Wait, did he really just thought that? Why did he always have thoughts like that about Charlotte since his talk with William?

And why he focusing on Charlottes beauty instead of their quest? Fuck, he already knew that Charlotte was more than beautiful, he didn’t need to look at her beauty as if he just discovered it for the first time!

Besides, they had an investigation for a lost sibling going on!

The first thing they did Heladise was searching for the inn where that Grace girl was working. Only to find out from the innkeeper that she died years ago and that her son – that stupid innkeeper was getting old as he didn’t remembered the name – had been sent to an orphanage. Apparently, that kiddo has some weird habit to fight and to always smile, even at his mother’s funeral. After he got his grimoire, left to become a Magic Knight and well, he never returned.

That story sounded pretty familiar to Yami, but he didn’t gave it much attention. His thoughts were turning around Charlotte mostly or to things related to her.

It was like his something in him, maybe his subconscious or anything hidden in his spirit, wanted to tell him something. One specific thing. Like for many, many years and since he probably didn’t listened, it was now screaming that thing. And he still didn’t get it! What was going on?

“Looks like that we need to search within the Magic Knight squads for our next step. Too bad the innkeeper didn’t remembered my brother’s name. Well, he probably doesn’t have good memories of him as well, he must have caused him some difficulties in the past, given how he talked about my brother.”

“Hm…”

“Yami, are you listening to me?”

Charlotte punched him slightly with her elbow, causing him to interrupt his merry-go-round of thoughts about her.

Normally, Yami would have been happy for the distraction. But since Charlotte was the one haunting his mind, it didn’t really helped. Which honestly sucked in his books. But Yami would never dare to accuse his Prickly Queen of it. After all, it wasn’t her fault he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Wait… did he just considered her his Prickly Queen?

“Oh, um, sorry, I was in thoughts. What did you say?”

Charlotte sighed deeply, before repeating what she just said. And afterwards immediately adding, “I can’t say it’s not like you to not pay attention, but this seems too much even for you. Couldn’t you at least tell from my Ki that I was talking to you?”

“Come on, Prickly Queen, you know me. I’m not an idiot, I can read every Ki.”

Except hers, for some mysterious reason, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Although, this was indeed the proof that something was wrong with him and that he included Charlotte. Her Ki was so unique and he was unable to understand it. Him, one of the two only Ki-readers in the whole kingdom and the only one out of the two who wasn’t an idiot. And didn’t Goldie Guts mentioned something about his ability to read Ki in his speech? Damn, William really put his finger on something and Yami couldn’t tell what it was.

But that didn’t meant that it was stupid or dense. No, no, no! He wasn’t stupid when it came to Charlotte, he was just…

What was he, actually? Something else than stupid, surely. But what? It was so difficult for him now to not think about Charlotte. She even haunted his mind when he was taking a dump now! And since he thought more about his Prickly Queen than the fierce battles he fought against his digestion system, his toilet breaks took longer these days. Much to his brats worries.

Hold on… he just considered Charlotte his Prickly Queen again? What was that supposed to mean?

Time to change the subject, definitely.

Yami took a look at the bouquet of purple lilies and white roses in Charlottes hands. “What are those for?”

“For Graces grave. Didn’t I told you that already?”

“Of course, of course,” Yami replied, hiding the fact that he haven’t listened to that part as well. “It’s nice of you, but why actually? You haven’t known her at all.”

“Just because I didn’t know her doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t care or that I shouldn’t pay my respects. What happened to her was horrible and she didn’t get any justice. She deserves respect, even after death. It doesn’t matter that she’s my brother’s mother or not.”

“Actually, you’re right, Prickly Queen. Sorry.”

Charlotte just nodded. He traits were soft and sad, as she walked to the cemetery, searching for Graces tomb. That caring and compassionate side really made her look so much more beautiful as she was already. Oh, she might seemed cold and aloof, but Yami knew very well that Charlotte was a caring person. For the kingdom, for her girlies, for any other people, civilian or knight, noble or commoner, royal or peasant.

His Prickly Queen was probably the most caring person Yami knew.

There again! He thought again about her like his… For the third time in less than five minutes! Vanessa would have said that the third time always was a charm and for the first time, Yami might admit that she was onto something.

Okay, Charlotte was definitely special for him, even more so, unique. But how? And why? Couldn’t he just have the full answer and be done with? Apparently no, whatever was messing with him, Fate or something else, probably thought he needed more steps to get his answer.

While he was blaming something he didn’t even know what it was, both he and Charlotte finally found Graces tomb. The innkeeper did described the gravestone as a simple cross with her name, her birth date and the date of her death.

“Oh… she wasn’t even twenty-five when she passed away,” Charlotte said, her voice full of sadness and compassion. “And this also means… She probably got my brother very young.”

Yami just nodded. That poor girl didn’t get a fair life. Losing her parents very young, working her health away to supply, got pregnant by a noble jerk who abandoned her with a newborn, was left alone taking care of her kiddo and died very young probably due to exhaustion, because it was too much for her.

Grace deserved justice, to be taken care of and didn’t get any of it.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you…” Charlotte whispered while putting the bouquet of roses and lilies in front of the grave. Some tears were lingering in her eyes, one of them rolled down her cheek.

Yami looked at her. It was clear that this whole story went close to her. Her father did this and Charlotte was deep down a sensible, caring person. She probably wished that Grace was still alive, to give her protection and to take care of her. Some would say it would be too late, but Yami knew that often, it was better late than never. Sadly, for Grace it was never.

Her father was a jerk, no doubt about it. Yami wished for a second that mama Roselei would have cheated on him with a better man and got Charlotte from her lover instead. Because it was so hard to believe that a jerk like that got such a wonderful daughter.

But Charlotte had his eyes, so there was no doubt. Sadly.

Strange… they had this in common. A jerk dad. Yami haven’t thought about his father for a while and his memories of him were pretty much never positive.

Looking at Charlotte, who now knelt in front of Graces grave, Yami couldn’t help but realize that both their fathers didn’t hated them, but were still jerks. Well, his father died. Hers was still alive.

Yami had the sudden urge to take Charlotte in his arms, to hug her. He had this strange longing quite often lately after his talk with William. But since he didn’t make any sense to him, he ignored it. Which hadn’t been as easy as he thought.

But this time, it felt different. This time, he didn’t want to hug her because some mysterious power pushed him specifically to her, making him long for her touch. No, he wanted to hug Charlotte to comfort her.

Would she accept to be hugged by him, though? Just because they were getting along slightly better didn’t meant that Prickly Queen would appreciate to get hugged by him out of the blue. She sometimes complained about his smell – which was true most of the time, but Yami would never admit that – or about his rude attitude – true as well, but well, being polite was future Yamis problem.

But this time? Maybe it was the right thing to do. After all, he didn’t need to drown Charlotte in his arms. A hand of her shoulder or one arm around her seemed more appropriate than a bear hug and could say so much more than any word.

So, Yami knelt down beside her.

But just as he was about to put a hand on her shoulder, something did catch his eye. On Graces gravestone.

The cross stood next to a tree and the shadows of the branches and leaves covered some of the inscriptions on the stone.

Like Graces family name.

But a soft blow of the wind, a small movement of the tree branches, the sun fell on that spot for one second.

Yami frowned, looking more closely, trying to identify the letters.

Grace Voltia.

Voltia. Voltia… Wait a fucking minute!

He heard Charlotte gasp next to him and when he turned to her, she was looking at him as well. Her eyes wide open in surprise, proving that she was doing the same conclusions as Yami.

Voltia… That was the family name of Luck.

Which would mean…

That Luck, one of his own knights, was the lost half-brother of Prickly Queen.

[lady-lys]

Mine (Harry x MC) 16+

Takes place on Confession Day. Originally posted in Canals of Sensitivity.

Maybe I’ll finish this at a later time, I’m going to sleep now—

xxx

“I refuse.”

The words hit you hard, despite knowing it was coming. It was like a stab in the heart with a knife.

“I’m being honest with you. I don’t want to be with you.”

Now he was twisting said knife.

You felt so stupid. Why did you confess? You knew this was going to happen. So utterly stupid. This was a damn waste of your time and effort.

You closed the chat room without saying another word, turning your phone off entirely before walking into the bathroom. You regretted taking a look in the mirror as you passed by it. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying.

You hated crying and you felt as if he didn’t deserve your tears. You couldn’t help it though, you cried when you felt extreme emotions, and right now you felt angry.

Maybe later you’ll feel sad but right now you feel angry. At who, you weren’t sure. Maybe at yourself for being so stupid for confessing. Maybe at Piu-Piu for making you believe this was a good idea. Maybe at Harry for being so arrogant and cold.

You needed a distraction, so you turned on the shower and set the water temperature to cold. A shock is exactly what you need, and you need to cool off from the hot anger you felt.

You stayed in there until your body became numb from the cold, quickly drying yourself off and not bothering to put on any clothes before flopping down on your bed. You were emotionally exhausted and drifted off to sleep within seconds of your head meeting the pillow.

xxx

“Piu-Piu, why hasn’t she responded?”

Harry frowned as he waited half an hour now for your reply.

“I’m not able to locate her. Her device seems to be offline. Can you blame her though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you broke her heart! The probability of love between you was a good 92% chance and now it’s down to 0%!”

“Ugh. I didn’t reject her because I don’t like her. I just didn’t want to mess up what we already have. But it seems like I already did.”

Harry thought back on his words. He would have explained his reasoning by now if you hadn’t left the chat abruptly. He had to explain himself.

“Tell me where she is.”

He paced around his hotel room, patience running thin.

“You know I can’t reveal tha—“

“I do not care. Talking to her is part of my life pattern and I’m about to lose her. I cannot lose her.”

“Well.. when you put it that way.”

xxx

Harry wasted no time summoning Big Guy to drive him to a location 20 minutes from the hotel he was staying at in the south part of the city.

“Do not wait for me. I will call you when I am done.”

Harry briefly informed Big Guy as he stepped out of the car and into the cold night.

“But sir—“

Harry closed the door on him before he could hear the rest of his sentence.

“What floor is she on?”

Harry whispered into his phone as he made his way across the quiet lobby and towards the elevators.

“Her last known location indicates she is on the third floor.”

Harry waited impatiently as the elevator made its way up the floors. As soon as the doors opened, he rushed out and into the long corridor of doors.

“Which one is it?”

“Keep going, keep goi— here! On your right.”

Harry firmly knocked on your door. No answer.

“Why isn’t she opening her door?”

“I’m not sure, I can’t detect her when her device is offline.”

He knocks again, contemplating throwing down the door, but before he could finish the thought, the door opens and reveals you. Wrapped in nothing but thin silk bed sheets.

“Mmm, what can I help you wi-“

A cute yawn escapes your lips mid sentence. It seems the situation hasn’t quite dawned on you, making Harry smirk.

“Hello, MC.”

The deep voice you have grown to know so well finally snaps you completely awake, your eyes shooting up to meet his.

“Wha-how did you find me?!”

You asked in disbelief. You must still be dreaming. This has got to be a dream.

“I forced Piu-Piu to help me find you. I had to explain myself, but you left the chat abruptly before I could.”

Harry spoke quietly, not wanting this private matter to be heard by any neighbors.

You had forgotten entirely about what had happened hours prior, and the realization fell on you like a bucket of ice water. Your shocked expression quickly turned into a scowl.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

You snapped, closing the door on him before he stopped it with his hand. There was no way you could close it now with his strength.

“Could you at least listen to me for a minute? I can’t lose you!”

His words shocked you, making you step back for a second. Harry took this as an opportunity to quickly make his way inside your apartment, locking the door behind him.

“Lose me? You never even had me!”

You shouted, gripping the silk sheets wrapped around you tighter. You only now noticed your clothing situation, or lack thereof. Harry was now able to check you out completely as you were no longer hiding behind the door. His eyes darkened.

“I refuse to lose you. You are mine.”

He said sternly as he took a step towards you. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his possessive words. No, you couldn’t let this slide. You wouldn’t let him get away with this.

“Yours? So now you want me?”

You scoffed, turning your face away from him. He made his way to you, grabbing your face and making you look up to him.

“I said I didn’t want to be with you.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear before he continued.

“I never said I didn’t want you.”

Another shiver went down your back. You hope he didn’t notice the effect he is having on you. You grab his wrist and pull his hand away from your face, careful to not drop the sheets around your body with one hand.

“You’re too late now, Harry.”

You whisper back to him, before making your way to the door. He follows behind your every step.

“Now leave.”

You say coldly as you open the door for him, only for him to slam it back shut, an arm on either side of your head as he leans down so close to you that you can smell his expensive cologne.

“Listen to me, MC. I don’t want to ruin what we already have. I don’t want to add conflict and pressure. Why can’t you understand that what we already have is perfect?”

He glares down on you as you look up at him in shock. Anger slowly flares inside you.

“Isn’t it a little too late for you to be saying that? What we had is already ruined! I don’t want to waste my time on you any longer. I was stupid to attempt anything with you!”

You shouted up at him, trying to escape his enclosed space by punching his chest with your free hand, the other still securely holding your bedsheets. He firmly grabs your wrist and pins it above your head.

“Stop that. Listen to me.”

He says coldly, voice unwavering.

“No, Harry! You listen to me! I am done with you, I never want to see you aga—“

Your shouting is abruptly stopped with a harsh kiss. Your eyes widen as he absolutely devours your mouth. Just as quickly as he came crashing down on your lips, he left them, only a trail of saliva left connecting you.

“Don’t say that to me.”

He glares down at you, his dark eyes dark full of hunger. You want to punch him so bad. How dare he make you feel this way after he just rejected you earlier in the day! You try to unpin yourself from his grip but this only makes him press against you, completely pinning your body to the door. You suddenly feel something hard poking against your leg.

“You are mine.” He growls against your ear before he takes it between his teeth, lightly pulling on it.

“Mine.”

And he was absolutely right.

You would always be his.

[awesomenessg]

‼️SPOILER ALERT FOR HELLUVA BOSS S2 E3 EXES AND OOHS‼️

I know this post is pretty late considering that the episode came out last Saturday and I apologize for that, but I still wanted to just make a nice quick and easy recap giving my overall thoughts.

But in short, omg this episode was fantastic! The entire time I felt like I was on a crazy roller coaster ride of emotions. I went from laughing, to crying, to laughing again, to being on the edge of my seat, and so much more. The deep emotional moments hit so hard for me. And it feels like the animation keeps getting better and better with every new episode. The fight scene near the end where Millie went off on a full-blown killing spree was the top tier highlight of the entire show's animation for me, even topping the fight scene from S1 E6 Truth Seekers imo, and that's saying a lot. What I also loved about that scene was that it shows just how powerful and a badass Millie can become when you anger her enough. You do not wanna be messing with her! >:) She is so protective of her husband, and you do not dare touch him or she will unleash her full fury out on you. And that scene really drove the point of the whole episode home that Millie and Moxxie's relationship is just so healthy and strong and not a force to be reckoned with. Not a single thing in Hell can tear them apart from each other.

And don't even get me started on this episode touching on Moxxie's backstory! When I said I was crying at one point in this I was not joking. I already had a feeling that his dad Crimson was not somebody to be trusted before this episode came out, but holy shit, I was not at all prepared to see just how evil and vile this character truly is. He is not only homophobic, sexist, and abusive to his own child, but the fact that he had the gall to straight up murder his own wife??!! Yeah... he's officially at the top of my list for worst Helluva Boss character now. Geez and I thought Stella was horrible, but Crimson has got even Stella beat at this point. And poor Moxxie did not deserve having to grow up in such a hostile environment and go through all that trauma. By the looks of the very end of the episode it seems like this won't be the last time we'll be seeing Crimson. This seems to be a set up for him to be a returning villain and I am all here for it.

As much as I didn't like Chaz because of him being an f-boy who sleeps around and just a really cringy character overall, I have to give credit where it's due and say that he was written very well and I do love his design and voice actor. Though I'm gonna be completely honest, part of me was kinda relieved that he got killed off at the end lol I just did not enjoy watching this selfish arrogant horny dude who was all talk and no show try to interfere with M&M's precious marriage.

Oh yeah and one other thing, why is nobody else talking about how Moxxie is such perfect bisexual representation? 💗💜💙 Being bi myself I just couldn't help but feel so seen the moment he confirmed it. Loona has always been my favorite character since the very beginning, but after this episode, I think Moxxie might just be a close second (and also because he's voiced by my all-time favorite voice actor Richard Horvitz).

Now the only thing that disappointed me about this episode was that Loona was barely in it at all. I was really hoping for more Loona moments, I missed seeing my baby wolf girl so much! 😢

So to sum this all up, I thoroughly enjoyed this episode. It was definitely worth the long wait. This show has not yet once failed to impress me. I hope it continues to head in the right direction and I cannot wait for the next episode! ❤️🖤🤍😈

[deepspacedukat]

Not a request, it’s just another one of those “I’m telling you about this because I’m obsessed with this idea and my only other option is to scream it into the void or write it myself”.

Romulan let’s the mute human woman (born this way, trauma, etc) touch his hand so that she can communicate freely or so he can act as her voice when she is frustrated with others in the room that don’t know sign or if a thought/idea is too complex to sign easily. They become so used to this they are practically glued to each other and constantly touching hands not really thinking twice about it. He had no idea human women could be so damn snarky and cunning - not having had much experience around them - but is very pleased. She’s highly amused by his arrogance and surprising softness that he has accidentally let slip through his thoughts. When it’s time to go their separate ways, they both feel as though that would almost be like cutting off a limb they are so used to one another. They’ve become extensions of the other. Guess she’s gonna have to be a Romulan citizen now? 🥺😭

In my brain this is in a Jem hadar prison camp and they are the ones who mutilated her so she couldn’t speak. She’s bitter and frustrated with how she can’t communicate, so he offers her his help.

This is so Letant tbh - can you imagine him going all politician at a party on Romulus or something and leading his now wife around by his elbow, touching her hand. They’d be silently gossiping and reveling in their own private jokes while keeping straight faces in front of the other Senators. (Sorta kinda like one of your Vorik fics at the luau)

Ugh just a screaming, crying, throwing up. Seriously tho - I love your writing so much. You’re such an inspo - keep up the amazing work ❤️

sorry not sorry for the brainworm,

Toebeans

OHMYGOD, OKAY. Okay, I'm finally forcing myself to post this. I've read it an unreasonable amount of times and it's been in my brain since I received it last night. Thank you for the really sweet words, btw! I’m glad you enjoy my writing, friend! ❤️

*shifty eyes* @horta-in-charge! You need to see this and suffer with me, okay? Okay! 😇

This got so long omg. I had A Lot Of Thoughts.

This whole idea makes me fucking feral! Going off of the concept that the Jem’Hadar were the ones who made it so she can’t talk leaves so much space for so many emotions! Like, she gets tossed in the cell Letant is in, and he’s there to witness her realization that she no longer has the ability to talk and her first few struggles to make her thoughts known.

At first, he helps translate for her because seeing her struggle is an annoyance...and in a way that he doesn’t want to admit, seeing her in pain/crying makes him want to bundle her up in his arms. He wants to make that feeling stop, and he thinks it’s just empathy, so he starts doing the touch telepathy translating thing.

But the feelings don’t stop (obviously). They get stronger and stronger until he finds himself smiling more despite their captivity and protecting her despite the danger to himself until “oh no, I love her.” Then the moment comes when they’re free/heading back to the wormhole (or some close Starbase depending on where the camp is) and they realize that their state of existence in a nearly inseparable pair is imminently at risk of being completely destroyed. As you said, at that point he’s a part of her and she’s a part of him. And they can both tell when the other realizes, because they’re both scared - it’s not her first time being terrified, but it is the first time since the Jem’Hadar took her ability to speak that she’s been this scared; it’s definitely his first time being anything close to this frightened of losing someone, and all semblance of arrogance is just completely gone. Because he can’t lose her. And she can’t lose him.

He just doesn’t let go of her the entire trip to the wormhole/starbase, cuddling her close and trying to figure out what to do while she sleeps - should he stay in Federation territory with her? Or did his responsibility as a member of the Romulan Senate render that impossible? If it did, would she go with him?

When her hand touches his face, he realizes that oh fuck, she was awake for that whole thought process. How much did she hear?? And he’s suddenly hit with the terrifying thought that she would think him ridiculous for wanting to be with her. After all, he was only translating for her. And she was human - he was so much older than her.

But then she kisses him and holds his hand like she always does when he translates for her. Just one request filters through: “Take me home with you.”

When he does, it’s as his wife, and he’s So Proud of her. They absolutely have the little gossip sessions telepathically at every social function, and if anyone says anything rude about her being human or mute or whatever, they face the Wrath™ of a Very Protective Romulan Senator.

Screeching and throwing things and sobbing and–

[khr-guilded-cage]

Tsuna is monitored to make sure he can't run, can't rebel, can't do nothing but bend to the Vongola like a obedient heir, they are aware of his refusal. He is a flight risk. The fight will leave the stubborn boy with time and the right motivations. They want to instal the boy in a role of puppet Decimo. 'The only thing he can do is the best with his situation and become a great boss'? Rebel. At least how you can: refuse to shower, to eat, to talk, to do anything, no matter what they said.

They think if they press enough you will break, the arrogant belief you will bow to your 'destiny' at some point.

They send Reborn because he don't understand the meaning of a no. He is a cold blooded hitman. Its always 'when' and 'will' with him, dictating Tsuna's life.

They know you want nothing with them, they know you are hidding and running from them, that they will ruin your life, to take you away from your family and everything you love for their own convenience. They are aware you will refuse the position, that you would never agree to their unfair deals, that you own them nothing, they don't understand the meaning of NO. Vongola take what they want and who they want, by force if necessary, that is the mindset they have, push and press until you give up (and even stubborn people always do) and can't do nothing but obey them. To lock you up either in a forced marriage or a awful job as a puppet king.

I like stories of Tsuna taking back his autonomy as a person. His wishes, demands and Will drowed by his so-called 'friends's' loud voices, any kind of authority he has is erased because they want a obedient quiet toy. Because the whole time its people saying 'Enough! You will help the Vongola. You don't have a choice, Dame-Tsuna. Do you understand?' to Tsuna and when its his time to say 'No, I am a puppet you can simple play with. You don't own me. I refuse. I don't care about that. Stop doing that/don't do that. Stay away from my business and personal life. Stop lying to me. Do I made myself clear?', everyone just ignores him, stares bewildered or is conveniently deaf until Reborn kicks him, pull out a gun and order him to shut up and do it, threatning to make him pay for his disobedience.

Its stressful and I want Tsuna to snap 'SHUT UP! WHY THE FUCK YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME? FUCK YOU ALL, YOU ARE NOT MY FRIENDS' 'I am tired and sick of you all manipulating and ignoring me! I am a person! I am not your fucking puppet' and beat the crap out of his fake family. He is their boss, can have them killed if he wanted and should remember them of that. Since screaming and begging don't work. Vongola needs Tsuna, not the other way around.

[gordvendomewhore]

o and v? only if u want to ofc >:)

WAHHHH omg thank u so much for leaving an ask, i absolutely adore your art!!!!!!

O - choose a song at random. which ship or character does it remind you of:

all i ever wanted - futurist: i discovered this song after my first big bully phase, so i never thought about it in regards to bully, but god DAMN does it click in my head now...

this is...parker/tad. spencilvie, if you will.

parker/tad is one of my favorite ships, and i always characterized being trapped in this one-sided love (from parker's side) that isn't actually one-sided, but more a product of their circumstance. i think out of all the preps, parker is one of the most likely to become disillusioned with with the title and the wealth and eventually grow out of that obsession and fall deeper into the pit of loneliness he canonically suffers from.

i imagine him and tad would find solace in each other -- parker in tad because he always admired tad's charisma and leadership while not being entirely a douche like derby, and tad in parker because he enjoyed the lighthearted conversations and perspectives parker brought to the table -- solving each other's loneliness and becoming genuine friends within a clique of fake bitches lol.

but i think parker would eventually catch feelings, mainly because he's never really been close to anyone and is very emotionally raw overall. it's just destined to go that direction lol. but tad, being tad, is so utterly broken. i don't think he would be in the right state to be romantically involved with parker, but mental health wouldn't be the only deciding factor: stigma around homosexuality, dedication to family titles and wealth, already strained relationships with his family -- a relationship with parker would only add to the stress.

so anyway, after all that prelude lmao, i think this song would be from parker's pov, talking about his feelings for tad but how it's not something he could rely on because he knows tad does not feel the same way. the song is nice and upbeat with this psychedelic feel to it, and i think it's a perfect way to encapsulate parker and his outlook on everything -- even during a bout of deep sorrow, he would still find a way to put a positive tone to everything, even if it just makes it more bittersweet in the end.

wahh i wanted to do more songs but this singular one got so fucking long omggg maybe i'll do more in future posts just for funsies

V - which character do you relate to most?

shit, this is a really loaded question lmao.

most of the time, i feel like i don't really know myself as a person lmao. when i've talked about bully characters i relate to in the past, i usually just say derby because he's (arguably) my favorite character, and like him, i'm a bit of an arrogant bitch who uses it as a disguise for insecurity.

i think that's just a lot of self-projection though, and i think in reality, i'm too grounded, self-aware, and melancholy to relate to someone as intense as derby harrington. he's a bad bitch and he knows it.

i think i'm more of a fanon bif taylor. still a bit arrogant, quite the force to be reckoned with, loyal, and a bit too introspective for my own good. i strive to have a fuck/frat boy vibe out of the sheer irony of a 5 foot asian girl having those vibes, and i think it feeds into the bif taylor of it all. i'm not exactly the voice of reason and spend a lot of time feeding into the chaos around me, but i know how to calm everything down when needed.

a fanon bif taylor! or at least, my interpretation of a fanon bif taylor

again, thank you sooo much for the ask!!! it was really fun doing these!!!!

[wjforever]

Shatter me again. Chapter 43

Unlike Adam, Warner is in no hurry to help me get into the car. Not surprising. For him, I'm just an uncleaned gun, nothing more.

He's suddenly taciturn, arrogant and cold with me again, and I realize that my assumptions are, in fact, much closer to reality than I would like. We drive in silence for a while. The car pulls up to the checkpoint and the soldiers who notice Warner, rush to open the gate without asking any questions. It's only when we're well away from headquarters that Warner turns his head to me. But he doesn't say anything. He's just looking. Maybe he's waiting for a reaction from me.

Am I supposed to say now that I want to stay? He will never get this from me ever in his life. I remember the morning plan and decide to stick to it. I've already allowed myself too much today. So I pretend not to notice his gaze.

Cold and reserved. It's me. Yes…

He turns away from me again. Looking at the road.

"Why do you hate your gift so much?"

Hot and outraged. This is me. Yeah…

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Don't you see anything good in it?" His eyes are on the road, his voice is almost nonchalant. My emotions are completely different. I am indignant.

"Would you like no one to be able to touch you? So that people die from just brushing your skin?" I immediately regret asking that question. I seem to have forgotten who I'm talking to. Of course, he would be delighted.

He still doesn't look at me. Smiles, barely holding back his laughter.

"I'd prefer I could kill without touching. With my eyes only, for example."

I turn away from him and cross my arms over my chest. He's making a joke out of me. Mocking my illness. Nothing is sacred to this man.

"It's not funny," I tell him.

"I believe there's something good for you too, isn't it?" He glances at me briefly.

"Like what?"

"Well, I bet you've never been bitten by mosquitoes…" My gaze immediately flick in his direction. I just can't believe it wasn't my imagination and I actually heard something like that from him. It sounds so insanely stupid, out of place, ridiculous, and I look at him like he's an idiot. "If you still remember what it is, of course."

"Oh, how hilarious. It amuses you a lot, doesn't it?" My voice sounds evil and angry. 

"Actually, yes." A soft smile from him, and I turn away again defiantly and on principle, not wanting to comment on his words in any way. But Warner won't let up. "Look, even this situation. Another person would feel in much greater danger. But you can protect yourself."

Do I need to protect myself? Does he mean by this that I have something to worry about? But I'm not voicing my unspoken question. He won't tell me the truth until he wants to anyway, and I don't want to look pathetic next to him.

"That's if only you need constant protection. But this is not all a person needs."

I still talk to him without turning my head. A dull monotonous landscape flashes outside the window, and all this makes me sad. I would never tell him what else a person wants, because he wouldn't understand me. But all normal people want love, warmth, affection. And that's not possible when you're a deadly monster. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad for me to be like Warner. Insensitive, merciless, indifferent, fixated on oneself. But, though I feel comfortable in my own company, forced to get used to it, I always wanted more. Something I will never have.

"I'm not saying that there are no disadvantages," Warner says calmly. "But it seems you're only fixated on the bad. People are afraid of you and sometimes that's a good thing."

"You're not. You're not afraid of me." I jump up in my chair, turning sharply to him. Restraint is forgotten, and curiosity boils in me again when I abruptly change the topic of conversation. "Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"Afraid?" He raises his eyebrows, and then smiles softly, not looking at me. "On the contrary, I'm absolutely enchanted by you."

Jesus, I will never be able to understand this man. But as much as I hate to admit this, it's intriguing. Annoying to the point of insanity, but attracts. I don't know how it works.

"Only someone like you could be enchanted by something like this."

"You're absolutely adorable when you're angry, you know?" He doesn't stop smiling and glances at me. His green eyes are like fresh spring grass which gently caresses your bare feet as you run on it, forgetting about everything in the world. I can't take this gaze, so I look at my clasped hands on my lap. 

"You've already told me that."

"And I'm not going to take my words back."

"Too bad my taste is poisonous for your palate." 

I know my voice sounds venomous, I want it to sound that way. I snap and fight because I know I have to, but in fact I'm even starting to enjoy those arguments of ours. They force me to express my position more often, and allow me to understand him better. And I realize that I want it. Get to know him better. We talk. Even if we disagree with each other. We share our opinions. We oppose each other. It's even funny when it doesn't end with someone's suffering or death.

"That detail makes this game so much more appealing." He chuckles.

"You're sick, you're so sick." I shake my head, raising my eyebrows, but I have to lower my head so that he doesn't see my weakest smile, which I can't hold back.

Warner suddenly stops the car and I'm almost afraid that I went overboard and he lost his temper. That's the problem with Warner, I never know what to expect from him. He can smile, looking into my eyes, and then do something terrible. But I see that he's calm, relaxed. I think so.

"We've arrived. Jump out."

He doesn't hesitate and immediately gets out of the car, and I follow his example. The cold wind immediately hits my skin, bare arms and legs. It's really freezing outside, and I rub my shoulders with my hands, trying to protect myself from the chill.

I look around, trying to figure out where he took me. We are in a waste ground, it seems to be in an uncontrolled territory, although I don't remember that we passed a protected area. Perhaps I didn't notice it, being carried away by a conversation with him, or maybe he knows other ways where there are no barriers.

There's nothing here. Nothing at all. Only the sky, withered grass, dry shrubs. And that's it. 

Though I don't live in semi-darkness anymore, my eyes still water from the wind, natural light and cold air. I take a deep breath never stopping blinking. It's a strange feeling. Like if I had just been woken up and had to get out from under a warm blanket to face the morning chill. Bittersweet sensation.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Warner coming towards me. He takes off his long coat and drapes it over my shoulders.

"What are we doing here?" I ask him, gratefully wrapping myself in the warm fabric of his clothes, feeling the residual heat of his body.

"Nothing." He shrugs slightly and shakes his head.

My eyebrows go up in surprise. "But you brought me here for some reason, right?"

"You seem to like it."

"What do I like?" I don't understand.

Warner looks around, slightly squinting his eyes. It seems that the fresh air and the clouded sun are blinding him too. Then he makes a small movement with his hand, pointing at the world around us.

"This."

And I begin to understand. My eyes wander through the dead nature, absorbing every shade, every detail. His soft voice steals me from this captivity.

"I'll need to give orders to take care of warm clothes for you. I didn't think you'd want to spend time outside."

I look at him, and only now I realize that he was left only in trousers, a turtleneck and a suit jacket. Although he is dressed much warmer than me, it's really cold outside, and I know that these clothes will not allow him to stay warm for a long time. It confuses me a little, and I feel an urge to return his clothes to him, though I don't want to lose the only opportunity to hide from the cold elements. His coat is really warm, windproof and pleasant to the touch.

"You'll freeze yourself."

Warner immediately takes a step towards me, slightly tilts his head. He's not smiling, but there is a strange expression on his face, in which smugness, teasing, tenderness, and questioning are mixed. 

"Are you worried about me?"

I'm starting to breathe faster. I don't like where he's leading the conversation. It makes me feel like I'm trapped. 

"I don't want to be the cause of your pneumonia." I say with a sharpness in my voice and he smirks. But to all other emotions in his eyes, some rigidity is added, maybe even resentment.

"Ah, well, yes, I forgot you're a saint."

I snort and step away from him.

I don't know how it works, but the air has an intoxicating effect on me. It's been so long since I've been outside, and even more so like this, not somewhere on the roof and not on the way from the asylum to the car. And I allow myself to surrender to this feeling, forgetting about everything in the world. I'm just going farther and farther, and farther. There, somewhere to the sky. And he's walking silently beside me, a little behind.

Only after taking a few more steps, I finally realize that we are on the edge of a cliff. And when I get closer, an amazing picture opens up in front of me. This is an ocean view. It no longer deserves the right to be called that. The ocean lost its greatness, turning from a formidable and powerful element into a dirty and smelly puddle. The water in the bath after all of humankind has bathed in it. But at this distance, it seems to be its former self again. And this is fascinating.

My feet bring me closer to the edge, and I stop, feeling my breath catch in my throat. It's so amazing that tears come to my eyes. The pale sun is already beginning to set, and our unusually usually gray world suddenly begins to be colored with golden light. The shroud of endless gray clouds seems surprisingly light and transparent today. And passing the sun's rays through themselves, they shine in thousands of shades.

I don't remember when I've seen so much sky right in front of me. When my gaze didn't stumble over buildings, people, trees. The ocean and the sky merge with each other, giving birth to infinity, an endless expanse pierced by the wind. 

I feel like I hold the whole world in my palm. That I have lost boundaries, and shackles, and obstacles. This is absolute freedom, absolute happiness.

Warner is standing nearby, a little apart and watching me, as if waiting for something from me. I asked him to fly. What if he…?

"Do you want me to jump off?" I ask suddenly, voicing an insane thought.

I immediately feel his hands on my waist, he abruptly wraps his arms around me, holding me tight, pressing me to him. His voice sounds almost alarmed, frightened, as if he lost control of his emotions for a moment.

"Don't you dare even think about it!" His tone is an assertive whisper, strong, domineering, anxious.

"I didn't." I simply reply.

But he still won't let me go. And we're just standing like this and looking at something vaguely resembling our old world. If only at least one bird would fly through the sky. Just one. White, of course.

His hands someday will be my undoing. His frame is covering my back from the cold wind, taking all the blow on himself, his coat is warming my body, his embrace are giving a feeling of something unreal, unfamiliar, but very desirable. Freedom, confidence, peace. And we both don't say a word, because words are completely superfluous right now. They will only destroy this moment, desecrate it with their meaninglessness. And I feel like a traitor, because for the first time in my life I'm so unfairly strict with words.

Minutes pass one after another, and I lose count of them. He suddenly leans over to my ear and quietly, as if not to scare me, says, "it's time for us to go back. You have no more than five minutes."

I hate him for saying that. We had five more minutes to revel in this exquisite unreality. But now everything is going back to normal. He removes his hands and I suddenly feel cold. However, he doesn't move away, seemingly not trusting me. He's ready, his hand just needs to make a quick lunge to easily reach out and grab me.

I'm not trying to scare him. Instead, I'm backing away from the edge and running to the car. It's such a bliss to feel your legs again, and it's a heady feeling of absolute freedom. And I spread my arms, pretending to fly. The wind is blowing in my face, whipping my hair. And I'm spinning, and I fall. And I'm laughing, laughing, laughing. I'm like a fawn that was let out to run around the field on fragile, weak legs.

The sky is so high, empty, lifeless. The sun is a faint ghost of itself. But this is the most beautiful view in the world. And I'm floating above the ground, grasping at every magical moment in which my mind is drowning.

I am air, I am earth, I am weightlessness.

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