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gyutopia · 3 months

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worls of sinners ii | sim jaeyun

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your parents are the head of one of the nation’s most lucrative syndicates and your older brother is heir to the throne which leaves you free to leave this world of evil behind. you’ve been waiting for this day for twenty years of your life, you can practically taste the freedom. what will you do, however, when your parents arrange a marriage for you to bind together their empire with the Lee’s to stop a full on gang war?

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: sim jaeyun x f!reader ft brother!sungchan

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 8.0k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: dark themes, mentions of drugs, mentions of violence, vulgar language, mentions of death, forced marriage, corruption, consumption of alcohol, possessiveness, mentions of blood.

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The reception was just as beautiful as the wedding. The soft procession of violins and cellos filled the hall as your guest roamed about the spacious room talking amongst themselves. You secluded yourself to the high table and refused to leave your position to meet any new faces.

You could clearly see the distaste written across your new father-in-laws face as you made it your goal to avoid his business associates but you could’t find it in you to care. While the mobsters scattered around the room drank away their inhibitions and partied like no tomorrow, you sat alone nursing a flute of sparkling cider mourning the loss of your freedom.

Jake tried his best to play the role of a doting husband but gave up an hour later when you did nothing but give him the cold shoulder, you said nothing as he slinked off to go congregate with his close friends, you watched them talk amongst themselves, feeling biter at how easy it was for Jake to let loose and enjoy himself. You bring the flute glass up to your lips and finish it off before placing the glass back onto the table only to be met face to face with Heeseung who stands on the other side. You raise your eyebrows curiously, “May I help you?”

He smirks and scans your face, “I'm sure you can doll.” Your face remains passive, even at the pet name he bestows upon you, you watch him with a blank face as he rounds the table to sit beside you. “Why do you look as if you’ve been shot? Shouldn’t you be happy, it’s your wedding day afterall?”

You scoff, “I’m sure you know why.”

A puff of air escapes Heeseung’s parted lips as he leans back in his seat and takes a sip of his whiskey. “Jake won’t hurt you if that’s what you’re thinking, that boy couldn’t even harm a fly. I have no clue why our father chose to hand over the clan to him. Besides, you have far more pressing matters to worry about”

An eyebrow shoots up at that, “such as..?”

He smirks over the rim of his glass, “producing an heir.” You cringe at the reminder of what is expected of you. You can’t stand even being in Jake’s presence for more than an hour let alone letting him bed you. “I don’t know how things are run over at Jung Empire but the Lee clan is quite old fashioned, the women are expected to look after the children and make sure there is peace between the mafiosos while the men control the bigger things such as the business aspect. Think of it as a game of chess, you may be the queen and Jake is the king but you hold the power on the board, he is nothing without you.”

You frown at his analogy, “I'm not sure I understand.”

Heeseung’s face is void of any emotion as he looks away to stare intently at the back of his younger brother's head, seemingly calculating “I’m sure you will soon.” He turns back to you and offers you one last vibrant smile before standing and walking away.

You watch him walk away, lost in your own mind that’s working in overdrive. You sigh and stand to walk towards the bar to get yourself a glass of whiskey.

As you pass Jake, the song draws to a close and your mother-in-law starts tapping her butter knife against the rim of her cocktail glass, the chatter around the room abruptly dies down. Your eyes locate her by the end of the hall, near the live band with her burgundy nails wrapped around a flute of a dark red wine.

“May I have your attention for a moment please,” she asks, her voice delicate yet firm. Jake makes his way over to you after excusing himself from his friends, he places a warm hand on your shoulder and leans over to place a kiss on your cheek.

You can’t decide what you hate more; the way Lee Yerin stares at you with her hawk-like eyes, scrutinizing your every move or the way Jake slides his arms down to grab you by the waist to assert his claim on you in the presence of his men.

It bothers you how comfortable he seems to be getting with you already but you know better than to brush him off. In your world, possession is everything. It wouldn’t be wise to send a message of strife so early in your marriage.

You’re barely listening as Yerin goes on about how proud she is to finally see her youngest son become a man. You wonder if she means her words, with Jake being the living breathing proof of her husband's infidelity you can’t help but wonder if she harbors any hate for the male. She finishes by thanking the guests for their attendance, before turning back to the two of you with a red-lipped smile that reaches her eyes.

As her speech draws to a close, the room erupts into polite applause, but the tension in the air remains palpable. Jake's grip tightens around your waist, his touch possessive, as if daring anyone to challenge his claim over you. It's a stark reminder of the role you've been thrust into – a pawn in a game of power and ambition.

You glance over at Yerin, her smile still plastered on her lips, but there's a glint in her eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. She may be putting on a show for the guests, but you know better than to underestimate her.

As the crowd begins to disperse, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. But before you can slip away unnoticed, Yerin's voice cuts through the air once more.

"____," she calls out, her tone sweet yet commanding. "A moment, please."

You exchange a wary glance with Jake before reluctantly stepping forward to face his step-mother. Her gaze is piercing, her scrutiny leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"I hope you're settling into your new role comfortably," she says, her voice laced with thinly veiled authority.

You force a polite smile, nodding in response. "Of course, Mrs. Lee. I'm doing my best to adapt."

Yerin's smile widens, but there's a hint of something sinister lurking beneath the surface. "Good," she says, her tone dripping with insincerity. "Because there's much expected of you as Jaeyunie's wife."

You swallow hard, the weight of her words sinking in. You're well aware that your position comes with its own set of expectations and obligations.

Before you can respond, Jake steps in, his voice firm but gentle. "Mother, perhaps this can wait for another time. ____ must be tired from the festivities."

Yerin's gaze flickers between the two of you, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Of course, my dear," she says, her tone saccharine sweet. "We wouldn't want to keep you from your rest."

With a final nod, you and Jake make your escape, the weight of Yerin's words lingering in the air like a dark cloud. As you slip away into the mass of people, you can't help but wonder what other secrets and challenges await you in this new chapter of your life.

As you and Jake make your way through the crowd, the weight of Yerin's expectations hangs heavy in the air. Despite the celebration, a sense of unease settles over you, casting a shadow over the lavish celebration.

Jake's grip on your waist remains firm, his touch a silent reassurance amidst the chaos. You steal a glance at him, finding a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a stark contrast to the confident facade he wears for the world.

"Are you okay?" you ask softly, your voice barely audible over the din of the party.

He offers you a tight-lipped smile, his expression guarded. "I'm fine," he replies, his tone lacking conviction. "Just... adjusting, I suppose."

You nod in understanding, knowing all too well the weight of expectation. It's a burden you both share, a burden that threatens to consume you if you're not careful.

As you reach the outskirts of the crowd, Jake’s grip loosens slightly, allowing you both a moment of respite from the suffocating atmosphere of the reception hall.

"Thank you," you say softly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "For stepping in back there."

Jake offers you a small, genuine smile, his eyes softening with warmth. "Of course," he says, his voice gentle. "We're in this together, ____. No matter what."

As you and Jake navigate through the dispersing crowd, a sudden hush falls over the room, drawing your attention back to the center of the hall. Your heart skips a beat as you see Heeseung striding confidently towards you, his presence commanding the attention of everyone present.

With a flourish, he raises a glass high, the tinkling sound cutting through the silence like a sharp blade. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announces, his voice ringing clear above the murmurs of the crowd. "I believe it's time for our esteemed mafia leader to take his beautiful wife home."

A ripple of laughter and applause erupts from the guests, their cheers mingling with the strains of the fading music. You feel a flush of heat rising to your cheeks, a sense of discomfort settling in the pit of your stomach as all eyes turn to you and Jake.

Jake's grip tightens around your waist once again, his jaw clenched in irritation at the spectacle unfolding before him. You can sense the tension radiating off him, a silent warning to Heeseung to tread carefully.

But Heeseung pays no heed to Jake's silent threat, his gaze fixed on you with a predatory gleam. "Come now, my dear brother," he continues, his voice dripping with faux sincerity. "Let's not keep your wife waiting any longer."

You feel a surge of resentment bubbling within you, disgusted with the way Heeseung chooses to carry himself and address you as if you’re nothing more than a prize Jake has won to bed.

"I'm sure your wife is eager to get home and enjoy your company in a more... private setting," Heeseung drawls suggestively. This is met with a drunken roar of approval from the men in the room, a few of whom lift their glasses in Jake's direction and laugh salaciously. Yerin observes you carefully over the rim of her cocktail before stepping in. “The car outside is ready to go when you are, my darlings." she adds in, arching a perfectly-shaped eyebrow before raising her glass to you with a smirk. "Welcome to the family, ____."

A lick of ice runs through your veins.

In the next moment, you find yourself flanked from all sides by your bridesmaids, giggling as they pull you from Jake's clutches and shove you towards the exit. Jake groans as his friends do the same to him, trying and failing to get them to stop.

The cool night air hits you like a slap to the face when the double doors are flung open. A black SUV awaits you outside, the suited driver standing to attention on the curb, and the bridesmaids shove you into the back seat.

Next thing you know, Jake is being wrangled into the seat beside you. He sends his best man one last glare before the car door slams shut behind him. The car engine hums to life, and a heavy silence falls upon you as the driver pulls away.

You gaze out of the window for the entirety of the ride to your new residence.

When you finally turn in through the large automated gates of the Lee/Sim residence, you don't even wait for the driver to come around and open the door on your behalf, all but throwing it open in a bid to drag some fresh oxygen into your lungs.

You hear Jake's murmured thanks as he exits the car behind you; however your eyes remain fixated on the modern-style mansion that looms ominously before your eyes like a great, architectural monster.

Wordlessly, he moves past you with keys in hand. He knows you'll follow. After all, what other choice do you have?

The journey upstairs to the bedroom is a quiet one. Several of Jake's maids bow at ninety-degree angles as you pass, their hushed greetings of “Welcome, Mrs. Sim" directed at the expensive carpet beneath your feet, but given no indication that you should acknowledge them, you carry on in silence.

The master bedroom is pristine. So much so that it looks unlived in. As you step inside, you inhale the faint scent of fresh linen, a stark contrast to the lingering perfume of the evening's festivities.

Jake's voice breaks the silence, his tone surprisingly gentle amidst the chaos of the night. "This is your space," he says, gesturing around the room. "I'll be across the hall if you need anything."

You meet his gaze, gratitude mingling with the exhaustion etched into his features. “Okay, thank you.”

He stiffly nods before promptly exiting your room. Once he’s out of sight you huff out a sigh of relief before throwing yourself onto the large mattress. You know you should begin to get ready for bed but you feel drained in every sense of the word.

Just as you’re about to stand to remove your reception gown you feel your phone buzz on your bed. You look up from your seated position to find an incoming facetime call from Haru. You perk a bit, noting you hadn’t seen her or Anton on your way out of the reception.

You quickly answer and prop your phone up against a nearby pillow, adjusting it so you can see the screen while you start getting ready for bed.

“Hello.”

Haru smiles brightly and then turns the camera a bit to show Antons face before they both brightly answer you, “Hi!”

You smile at your two friends. “I miss you guys so much,” you say, letting out a tired sigh. “It feels like ages since I saw you.”

“We miss you too,” Haru replies, her voice filled with genuine concern. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

Anton nods in agreement, his expression serious. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. We’re always here for you.”

You start to unbutton your gown, feeling a bit more relaxed. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. Things have been... intense.”

As you step out of your gown, Anton's voice comes through, a bit hesitant. “How are things with Jake?”

You shrug, momentarily forgetting they can’t see you. “We haven’t really spoken. We’re sleeping in separate bedrooms.”

“At least he isn’t a creep who expected you to sleep with him on the first night,” Haru says, trying to lighten the mood.

You let out a small laugh, nodding. “True. That’s one thing to be thankful for.”

You slip into your pajamas and pop back into the frame, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “But something is off. I don’t know what it is yet, but I can feel it.”

Anton leans closer to the camera, his brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

You take a deep breath, deciding to tell them everything. “I was cornered by an FBI agent at the engagement party. He hinted that they know about the dealings of Jake and his family and they have a solid case. I’m going to find out what’s going on and use it as leverage to get out of this marriage.”

Haru and Anton are silent for a moment, processing your words. Finally, Haru speaks up. “Are you sure about this?”

“I have to do something,” you say firmly. “I’m not going to be a pawn in this game. I need to get out of here and join you guys in Paris. My father would have never agreed to this marriage if he knew that the FEDS have a solid case against Jake. I’ll snoop around his office tomorrow and see what I can find.”

Anton’s face is filled with worry. “Please be careful. If he catches you...”

“I know,” you say, nodding. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

There’s a moment of silence as your friends exchange worried looks. Then, Haru smiles softly. “Just remember, we’re always here for you.”

You feel a surge of gratitude for your friends. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

After a few more words of encouragement and promises to stay in touch, you finally say your goodbyes and hang up. You place your phone down, feeling a bit more at ease after speaking with your friends.

You lie back on your bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow, you’ll start your investigation. You’ll get yourself out of this, it’s you against everyone else. Nothing new.

The next morning, you wake up feeling surprisingly well rested. You dress quickly and make your way downstairs, the quiet of the house almost unnerving. As you enter the kitchen, you find your new husband sitting at the kitchen island. He’s engrossed in his iPad, looking over company spreadsheets while sipping on his coffee.

A maid appears, her presence soft but attentive. “Good morning, ma’am. What would you like for breakfast?”

You offer a polite smile. “I can make myself a bowl of cereal, thank you.”

Jake glances up from his iPad, his expression firm. “No. I’m paying them to take care of you, so you should have a proper breakfast.” He turns to the maid. “Make her some waffles, please.”

You don’t put up much of a fight, knowing it’s not worth the effort. As you try to leave the kitchen to head to the massive dining room, Jake stops you. “Why don’t you take a seat beside me?”

Reluctantly, you sit down next to him. He looks at you, his eyes softer now. “I had all your art supplies moved into the studio down the hall. Thought you might want to get back to painting.”

You’re taken aback by the gesture. “Thank you, Jake.”

He nods, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I have to go to the company for a meeting with the shareholders, so I’ll be gone most of the day. But once I’m back, we can discuss the creative department I plan on opening for you.”

Surprised, you thank him again. This side of Jake is unexpected, you didn’t think he was being serious when he offered to open up a creative department for you when he proposed. You thought it would be yet another empty promise, his kindness leaves you momentarily off balance. He gets up to leave, grabbing his briefcase from the counter. “See you later.”

As he exits, the maid places a plate of waffles in front of you. “Anything else you need, ma’am?”

You look up at her, suddenly curious. “What’s your name?”

“Rose, ma’am,” she replies, her tone respectful.

“Thank you, Rose,” you say warmly. “Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

Rose shakes her head, a faint smile on her face. “It’s not proper, ma’am, but thank you for the offer.” She then moves off to clean the kitchen, leaving you to your meal.

You eat the waffles slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. The house is quiet, and the sense of isolation is almost tangible. Once you’re done, you make your way to the studio Jake mentioned. It’s a spacious room with large windows that let in plenty of natural light. Your art supplies are neatly arranged, and a blank canvas stands on an easel, waiting.

You sit down, picking up a paintbrush, but no inspiration comes. The paintbrush feels foreign in your hand, and you find yourself staring at the canvas, lost in thought. The events of the past few days swirl in your mind, making it hard to focus. You remember the FBI agent’s warning, Jake’s unexpected kindness, and the looming uncertainty of your future.

Minutes turn into hours as you sit there, the paintbrush hovering over the canvas but never touching it. Your mind is too cluttered to create, and the weight of your situation presses down on you. You think about Haru and Anton, wondering if they’re almost done with their preparations to leave Korea, wishing they were beside you now.

Eventually, you set the paintbrush down, realizing that you won’t be able to paint today. Instead, you decide to use the time to start your investigation. You remember Jake mentioning that he would be gone for most of the day, which gives you a window of opportunity.

You leave the studio and make your way to Jake’s office. The door is slightly ajar, and you peek inside to ensure no one is around. Taking a deep breath, you step into the room and begin your search. You open drawers, sift through papers, and check the computer for any clues. But the office is meticulously organized, and you find nothing out of the ordinary.

Just as you’re about to give up, you notice a locked drawer in Jake’s desk. Your heart races as you consider your options. You could try to find the key, but that would take time. Instead, you decide to try picking the lock, a skill you picked up in your younger, more rebellious days.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually, you hear a soft click. The drawer opens, revealing a stack of documents. You quickly skim through them, and your blood runs cold as you realize just how cruel your husband can be. You thought your father was bad, but Jake seems to be the devil himself.

As you read through the documents, you uncover records of people Jake has killed, debts he plans on collecting, and bribes that go all the way up to the president. Each piece of paper details horrifying acts—the ruthlessness with which he eliminates anyone who stands in his way, the meticulous planning of each murder, and the extensive network of corruption he maintains. Your hands tremble as you come across a supposed hit list with names of people from Parliament.

Just then, you hear a voice outside the door. Heart pounding, you quickly put the documents back in place and lock the drawer just as Heeseung walks into the room. He looks surprised to find you standing behind Jake’s desk, a smirk curling on his lips.

“What are you doing in here?” he asks, his tone casual but laced with suspicion.

You straighten up, refusing to let him see your fear. “I was looking for a ballpoint pen to sketch with,” you lie smoothly.

Heeseung’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “Is that so?”

You nod, “And what are you doing in my home?” you ask, deflecting the attention away from yourself.

He scoffs at your use of the word “my” and steps closer, his smirk widening. “Your home? Has Jake fucked you well enough for you to be content with being his trophy wife?”

Your eyes narrow in anger as you slap away his hand that was reaching for a stack of papers on the desk. “If you came here to insult me, you can see yourself out. Otherwise, you’ll have to answer to Jake.”

Heeseung lifts his hands in mock surrender, his eyes sweeping around the room as if looking for something. “Jake doesn’t scare me,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “And neither do you. I’m not like Jake. I play rough, so you should watch where you put your hands.”

You glare at him, trying to keep your composure. “I’m not afraid of you, Heeseung. Now, if you don’t have any business here, I suggest you leave.”

Heeseung takes a step closer, invading your personal space. “Or what? You’ll run to Jake? You’re just his pretty little plaything, and you don’t know the first thing about the business we’re in.”

Your pulse quickens, but you refuse to back down. “I’m not just a plaything, and I won’t be intimidated or undermined by you. If you have any respect for Jake and me, you’ll leave now.”

Heeseung smirks, reaching out as if to touch your face, but you swat his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” you snap, your voice steady.

Heeseung chuckles, clearly enjoying the power play. “Feisty. I like that. But remember, Jake isn’t always going to be around to protect you.”

You take a step back, putting distance between you and Heeseung. “I don’t need Jake to protect me. Now get out before I make you.”

Heeseung’s smirk fades slightly, and he seems to reconsider his approach. “Fine,” he says, lifting his hands again. “But this isn’t over. I’ll be back to talk to Jake.”

“Goodbye, Heeseung,” you say firmly, watching as he finally leaves the room. The door closes behind him, and you let out a shaky breath. The encounter has left you rattled, but you can’t afford to lose your nerve now.

You sit back down at the desk, trying to calm your racing heart. Jake and his family truly do rule the underworld, it’s no wonder your father was so quick to wed you off. They’re involved in crimes that go far beyond anything you could have imagined. But this information is also your ticket out of this nightmare. If you can find a way to use it, you might be able to escape and start a new life.

For now, you need to act normal and keep up appearances. You leave the office and head back to the studio, your mind racing with plans and contingencies. Once inside, you pick up a paintbrush and stare at the blank canvas, hoping to appear absorbed in your work should anyone come looking for you. But your thoughts keep drifting back to the documents and Jake. He seems nothing like what those papers claim. He’s been nothing but sweet to you, to think he’s touched you with the same hands that have taken the lives of others makes you want to get up and shower.

Minutes turn into hours as you sit there, pretending to paint. Eventually, the sound of the front door opening and closing signals Jake’s return. You take a deep breath and put on your best calm demeanor, ready to face him.

Jake finds you in the studio, and his face lights up with a smile. “There you are. How was your day?”

“Good,” you reply, forcing a smile. “I spent some time in here, trying to get inspired.”

He nods, walking over to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m glad to hear that. Let’s have dinner, and then we can discuss the creative department.”

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. Dinner with Jake means more time to play your role and gather information. As you follow him out of the studio, you can’t help but glance back at the canvas, the blank space mirroring the uncertainty of your future.

At dinner, you sit across from Jake in the dimly lit dining room. The table is set with fine china and a sumptuous meal prepared by the household staff. Jake starts the conversation, his tone light and conversational.

"How did you spend your day?" he asks, cutting into his steak.

You take a sip of your wine, trying to maintain your composure. "I spent the day in the studio."

Jake nods, chewing thoughtfully. "I'm glad to hear that. I've been thinking a lot about how to integrate your talents into the company."

You raise an eyebrow, interest peaked. "Oh? What do you have in mind?"

He leans back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips. "We could start by setting up a small team to work on special projects. Maybe some unique advertising campaigns or custom artwork for our high-profile clients."

You nod, your mind racing with possibilities. "That sounds wonderful, Jake. Thank you for considering my passion."

He smiles, seemingly satisfied with your response. "I think it will be a great addition to our company. Plus, it will give you something to focus on and keep you busy."

You force a smile, trying to hide the unease that bubbles beneath the surface. "I appreciate that. I've always wanted to use my art in a meaningful way."

Jake takes a sip of his wine, his eyes studying you. "I want you to know that I won't hurt you," he says softly, his voice sincere. "We were both forced into this marriage, and I understand how difficult that can be. I won’t take any anger out on you. I want you to be comfortable here, to feel safe as my wife."

You’re conflicted, Jake’s words sound comforting but the papers hidden in the depths of his office scream otherwise. “Okay.”

Jake sets his wine glass down and looks at you with a seriousness that makes you lean back in your seat slightly. “I want to make something clear, though. I didn’t choose this life because I wanted to. My father chose me to take over even though it was Heeseung’s birthright.”

You frown, genuinely curious. “Why would your father choose you over Heeseung? And why would you even accept? You seem so different from him. Why would you want to be involved in such horrid crimes?”

Jake hesitates, clearly not used to talking about his family dynamics. After a moment, he relents. “Heeseung wasn’t ready to take over. He abused the fact that he was the heir. He partied, made reckless decisions, and endangered our entire operation. I thought stepping up would show our father that I was capable and might even fix my broken relationship with Heeseung.”

He pauses, his eyes distant. “I’ve always been undermined because I’m the bastard son. People are finally starting to take me seriously now that my father has given me full reign.”

He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “You must find me pathetic, doing all of this because of daddy issues.”

You shake your head, empathizing with him. “Not at all. I understand more than you might think. Growing up, I was always in my older brother’s shadow. No one took me seriously because I was the youngest and a girl. I did everything I could to get our father to see me, to recognize my worth. But eventually, I gave up. It wasn’t worth all the pain I inflicted on myself and others.”

Jake looks at you with a newfound understanding, a bond forming between you. “I guess we’re not so different after all.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, processing the vulnerability you’ve just shared. Then, you remember the FBI agent from the engagement party. “Jake, what do you plan on doing about the case the FBI has opened?”

Jake shrugs, his demeanor calm. “I’ll deal with it.”

“How?” you ask.

Jake pauses, then looks at you intently. “Do you want me to be honest?”

“Yes,” you say, taking his hand. “That’s all I’ll ever want from you—honesty.”

He nods. “I’ll have the lead investigator, the one who threatened you, killed. We’ll make it look like a suicide. Then I’ll pay off the president to close the case.”

You nod slowly, having expected such a response. “I figured as much. Thank you for being honest with me.”

Jake squeezes your hand. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”

You return the squeeze, feeling a complex mix of emotions—relief, fear, and a strange sense of solidarity. “Thank you, Jake.”

With the heavy conversation behind you, you both return to eating your dinner. The atmosphere between you has shifted; there’s a newfound understanding and mutual respect. As you finish your meal, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you and Jake might find a way to navigate this treacherous life together.

After dinner, Jake stands up and reaches for your hand. “Let’s go to the living room. We can talk more about the creative department there.”

You nod and follow him, feeling a bit lighter. Once you’re both settled on the couch, Jake starts outlining his vision for integrating your art into the company. You listen intently, offering suggestions and ideas, and for the first time in your life, you feel a glimmer of hope that you might be able to carve out a small piece of this world for yourself.

As the evening wears on, the conversation shifts back to more personal topics. You find It isn’t hard to relate to Jake the more you talk to him, surprisingly finding yourself enjoying your time with him. You’re more similar than you expected, and it dawns a new sort of appreciation for him. It was like this entire marriage would seem easier than you thought, especially with an understanding partner like Jake.

Jake shares stories from his childhood, and you find yourself laughing at some of his more outrageous ones. In turn, you share some of your own, and by the end of your last story, there’s a comfortable silence between you.

Jake looks at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Are you tired?”

You shake your head and sip on your wine before answering. “Not really. Why?”

He grins, looking almost boyish. “How about a movie night? It’s been a long day, and I think we both deserve a break.”

You nod, feeling a sense of relief at the normalcy of his suggestion. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

You begin to get comfortable on the large, plush couch while Jake turns on the tv and scrolls through his streaming service before deciding on ‘10 Things I Hate About You’

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his choice. “Seriously?”

He defends himself, his grin widening. “It’s the best movie ever made. Don’t knock it until you’ve watched it with me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Alright, you’ve convinced me.”

Jake hits play and sits down beside you, draping a cozy blanket over both of you. As the movie starts, you find yourself relaxing more than you have in days. The lightheartedness of the film and Jake’s occasional commentary makes you forget, even if just for a while, the dark reality of your lives.

About halfway through the movie, you start to feel your eyelids grow heavy. You fight to stay awake, not wanting to miss any part of the film or the rare moment of peace. But before long, you find yourself leaning against Jake’s shoulder, the warmth and comfort lulling you to sleep.

Jake glances down at you, a soft smile on his face. He gently shifts his arm to support you better, careful not to wake you. “Pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, almost to himself. He reaches up and softly caresses your cheek, his touch tender and protective.

As the movie continues to play, Jake finds himself more focused on you than the screen. He watches you sleep, marveling at the trust you’ve shown by falling asleep on him. The weight of the day’s revelations and the growing bond between you settles over him, and he feels a strange sense of contentment.

Eventually, the rhythm of your breathing and the comfort of the moment lull Jake into sleep as well. The two of you sit there, wrapped in the blanket, a small bubble of warmth and peace in the midst of a tumultuous world.

In that quiet, shared slumber, a tentative connection begins to form. It’s fragile and new, but in the darkness of your lives, it shines like a small, precious light.

You wake up the next morning wrapped in Jake's arms, his steady breathing a comfort against your shoulder. As you gently shift, his eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you both just stare at each other, unsure of what to say. This closeness is new to both of you.

Jake clears his throat and slowly separates himself from you. "Good morning."

"Good morning," you reply, sitting up. "I’m sorry for falling asleep on you last night."

Jake waves off your apology with a soft smile. "Don't be. What else are my arms for if not to support my wife’s head?"

You laugh softly, appreciating his attempt at humor. "What are your plans for today?"

He stretches and then looks at you, his expression turning serious. "I have another meeting today. It’s for our... other business."

You catch on immediately, realizing he means the mafia. Nodding, you decide to take a bold step. "Can I tag along?"

Jake looks hesitant. "I don’t know if that’s a good idea."

"Think about it," you reason. "It would be a good look if we showed up together. It might help if no one thinks there’s any strife in our marriage."

He considers your words and finally relents. "Alright, but stay close to me. It’s not the safest place."

As you both stand from the couch, Rose enters the living room with a polite smile. "Good morning, Mr and Mrs. Sim. I'll take care of the living area while you get ready."

You nod and head to your room to shower. The warm water helps clear your mind, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Jake and the strange new dynamic between you two. After your shower, you find a dress laid out on the bed—a tasteful yet elegant piece that you can tell Jake picked out to match his own attire.

You dress quickly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. When you walk out, Jake is waiting, he gives you an approving nod. "You look perfect."

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a bit flustered under his gaze.

Jake leads you to the car, opening the door for you.

The car ride goes by smoothly and in no time you arrive at the outskirts of Seoul. The warehouse you pull up to is surrounded by extravagant cars, a testament to the wealth and power of those inside.

Jake places a protective arm around your waist and guides you into the building, and you’re met with familiar faces—associates of Jake’s clan and big-time mafiosos. He takes a seat at the head of the table and pulls you onto his lap, a clear display of possession and protection.

Sunghoon, Jake’s right-hand man, stands to give his report. “The situation with the baggie boys is getting worse. They’re stealing cuts of our product, and now men from the Lee and Jung borders are going missing.”

You tense at the mention of your family name but stay quiet, tuning into the conversation with more interest.

Jake’s frustration is evident, but he lets Sunghoon continue. “Also, the FBI knows about the illegal acts, not just the corruption within the government. This investigation might be harder to navigate.”

Jake hums in thought. “Have we spoken to the president?”

Sunghoon nods. “The president is keeping a close eye on the case, but it will take time before he can act.”

One of the mafiosos, Byun Baekhyun, speaks up, his tone accusatory. “Is there a rat amongst us?”

Jake’s eyes flash with offense. “You dare question my men?”

Baekhyun doesn’t back down. “It’s a fair question, Jake. How else would the FBI know so much? Someone must be leaking information.”

Jake’s grip tightens on your waist, his anger barely contained. “My men are loyal. Perhaps you should look at your own house before making such accusations.”

Baekhyun leans back, smirking. “I’m just saying, it’s a possibility we can’t ignore.”

The comment lingers in your mind, you make a mental note to discuss it with Jake later.

The meeting continues, filled with more bad news. Sunghoon informs the group that the police are cracking down on the remaining baggie boys, and they’ll likely need to pay another visit to the police lieutenant.

By the end of the meeting, you can tell Jake is out of it. Instead of heading straight home, you suggest, “Would you like to grab lunch with me?”

Jake agrees, and the drive to the restaurant is filled with conversation. “That meeting was intense,” you start.

He nods, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Yeah, things are getting complicated.”

“What about the possibility of a mole?” you ask carefully.

Jake sighs. “It’s something I’ll have to keep an eye on. Baekhyun’s comment wasn’t completely off-base.”

You nod, sensing his frustration. “How’s your dad handling all this?”

“He’s not thrilled,” Jake admits. “He’s been cracking down on me, questioning my decisions. This new info Sunghoon mentioned is definitely going to make him question my leadership abilities even more.”

“I’m sure he knows you’re doing your best,” you offer, trying to comfort him.

Jake glances at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Thanks but my dad doesn’t care about effort.”You frown, trying to think of something to say. “What about the rest of the team? Do they support you?”

“For the most part,” Jake replies, his expression thoughtful. “But there’s always someone ready to step up and point out your mistakes. It’s a competitive environment.”

You nod. “Yeah, I get that.” sielcne settles between the two of you for a moment before you add, “how’s Sunghoon holding up with everything?” trying to shift the focus slightly.

“He’s stressed, but he’s handling it well. He’s been a great support, especially with all the new information coming in.”

“That’s good to hear,” you say. “It’s important to have someone like that on your side.”

Jake’s expression softens. “Yeah, it is. I’m lucky to have him and the rest of the team.”

The car ride continues with a mix of silence and small talk until you reach the restaurant. As you step out of the car, you look at Jake and say, “Let’s try to forget about the meeting for a while and just enjoy lunch, okay?”

He nods, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Sounds like a plan.”

As the two of you get out after he parks, Jake surprises you by taking your hand as you walk down the street. The gesture feels almost normal, like you’re a real couple. You blush but indulge in the rare moment of intimacy.

Seated outside with Jake beside you rather than across, you tell Jake to surprise you with the order. While he speaks to the waiter, you glance around your surroundings, trying to absorb the peaceful atmosphere. Across the street, a familiar figure catches your eye—your brother Sungchan. He’s sitting at an outdoor bar with another man, engaged in a heated discussion. You recognize the man as the chief of police.

Sungchan slides an envelope across the table before standing and leaving. You shrug it off, assuming it’s just work, and turn back to Jake.

He’s placed the order and looks at you, curious. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, forcing a smile. “Just saw someone I know. It’s nothing.”

Jake nods, accepting your explanation. The conversation shifts to lighter topics, and by the time your drinks arrives, you feel more at ease.

The waiter, a young man with a charming smile, returns with your meals. He seems overly attentive to you, his eyes lingering longer than necessary. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” he asks, leaning closer to you than Jake finds appropriate.

Jake’s jaw tightens. “We’re fine, thank you.” He subtly points to your wedding ring, hoping the waiter will catch on. “My wife and I are just enjoying our lunch.”

The waiter doesn’t seem to catch the hint and continues to hover, making small talk with you. Jake lets it go, expecting you to shut him down. But when the waiter comes back with the bill and you still haven’t said anything, Jake’s patience snaps.

He grabs your chin and kisses you sloppily in front of the waiter. The kiss is possessive, a clear statement of ownership. You’re embarrassed yet turned on, feeling a mix of emotions.

The waiter clears his throat awkwardly and leaves. You pull back, looking at Jake with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “What was that about?”

Jake’s expression is calm, but his eyes are intense. “He was hitting on my wife. I don’t like sharing.”

You nod, understanding his possessiveness but also feeling a strange sense of comfort in his protectiveness. After lunch, you head back to the car, and the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence. As you approach the house, Jake breaks the silence. “Thank you for today. It was nice to have you there, despite the circumstances.”

You smile, “I’m glad I could be there for you. Besides, think of it as a thank you for yesterday.”

Jake parks the car and turns to you, his expression serious but warm. “We’re in this together now. I want us to be a team.”

You nod, feeling a newfound sense of partnership. “Me too, Jake. Two’s better than one, no?”

Jake gives you a small smile, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. "Who knows, maybe one day we can be more."

Taking a deep breath, you offer him one last smile before saying, "I'm going to head to the studio and try to paint for a bit. It helps me clear my head."

Jake nods. "That sounds like a good idea. Do you need anything before you go?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks." You give him a reassuring smile before heading towards your studio.

As you walk down the hall, your mind buzzes with the events of the day. The meeting, lunch, Jake's protectiveness-all of it swirls together, pushing you towards your creative sanctuary. When you step into the studio, the familiar scent of paint and canvas immediately calms your nerves.

You set up your easel and prepare your paints, letting your mind drift. The blank canvas in front of you feels like a challenge, urging you to pour out everything you've been holding back. You start with broad strokes, not fully aware of what you're creating until the image starts to take shape.

Hours pass as you lose yourself in the process. You paint with a fervor you haven't felt in a long time, each brushstroke a cathartic release. The image that emerges is raw and intense-a naked girl on a bed, covered in blood and semen, her eyes shut in pleasure. A male hand tightly grabs her right breast, the possessiveness and violence palpable.

As you step back to examine your work, your breath catches in your throat. The hand you've painted is unmistakably Jake's. The realization sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of embarrassment and arousal flooding your senses. You can't believe how deeply he's affected you, invading not just your thoughts but your art as well.

Feeling flustered, you clean your brushes and put away your supplies. You need to clear your mind, to stop thinking about Jake in such a sexual manner. Deciding it's best to get some rest, you leave the studio and head towards your bedroom.

Once in bed, you can't help but replay the day's events. Jake's protectiveness, his vulnerability during your conversation, the way he held your hand so confidently—it all stirs something deep within you. As you lie there, staring at the ceiling, you wonder what the future holds for you and Jake. You turn off the light, allowing yourself to drift into a restless sleep filled with dreams of paint and passion.

taglist: @dreamiestay @sumzysworld

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pelova4president · 10 months

Text

That stupid smile of hers I

Esmee Brugts x nedwnt!R

II of that stupid smile of hers

summary~ In which y/n gets to go to the World Cup and falls in love with the girl with that stupid not so stupid smile.

I play for Arsenal but have been benched for most of the season. So when I got called up for national duty I was surprised, to say the least. But after all that happiness and surprise came the nervousness. How could I, y/n y/l/n who turned 18, just weeks ago get a call up for the Oranje Leeuwinnen. Sure, I’ve been the topscorer for the u23’s euros and Vivianne Miedema has torn her ACL, I’ve seen her stuggle, cry and achieve big milestones along the way. But she wasn’t going to make the world cup and everyone knew it.

The Netherlands needed another top scorer, they needed y/n. And that’s exactly what her coach, Andries Jonker told her.

A few days later the list of names that would go to the world cup was posted on the Oranje Leeuwinnen socials.

(pretend that you’re Vivianne Miedema)

y/n_y/ln, OranjeLeeuwinnen, AWF

liked by victoriapelova and 12.598 others

y/n y/l/n has been called up for her national team and will attend the world cup.

comments

leahwilliamsonn congrats, you deserve it!! ❤️

viviannemiedema trots op je 🥰

victoriapelova 😍😍

esmeebrugtsfan1 can’t wait to see her play

y/nballer69 so well deserved 🪄⚽️

I know a few of the girls. Well okay, I know all of them but did they know me?

I’ve played with Vicky in England, both of us playing for Arsenal and befriending almost immediately. Viv was the first one to welcome and introduce me to the whole Arsenal squad. Her and Beth took me in, just like they did with Vic and that’s just how I found myself playing fifa with Vic till morning. It was safe to say that I liked her company.

I knew a few of the other dutch girls playing in England, chatting with them when they played against us. Viv and Vic told me stories about camp life and the Olympics, about how vic won almost every table tennis game and was annoyingly good in chess, about Daan and her pranks and about Esmee Brugts, the annoyingly good footballer.

I’ve watched her, making the goal that got us to the world cup. I’ve watched her play for PSV back in The Netherlands. The goals she made, the way she just plays past everyone like it’s nothing, god it’s annoying. How could you be that good and so humble. And those stupid smiles she gives the camera after she scores, it’s so annoyingly cute.

So yeah, I had asked Vic and Viv about Esmee and they somehow got suspicious of how much I wanted to know about her. “Oh, ik ben gewoon geïnteresseerd. Ik moet iedereen toch een beetje kennen voordat we twee maanden in Australië zitten” (Oh, i’m just interested. I have to know everyone a bit before we go to Australia for two months) Viv and Vic just looked at each other and broke out into laughter.

Vic and I went to Zeist, to camp. It wasn’t that long of a flight but it felt like hours. Vic could feel the nervousness radiate off of me and put her hand on my leg that was tapping away annoyingly. “Oh mijn god y/n! Wat is er aan de hand man?” (Oh my god y/n! What’s going on mate?) Vic asked me. I just waved away the question and stared out of the window since I kind of sabotaged Vic to get the window seat.

We were greeted by someone from the staff that drove us to our camp. And just like every national teams socials does, the players got photographed at their arrival.

(pretend that you’re Jill Roord)

OranjeLeeuwinnen

liked by viviannemiedema and 9.484 others

one arrival you’ve all been waiting for 🥁

comments

lynnwilms_ the cold never bothered me anyway 🎶❄️

brugtsfan33 can’t wait to see the y/l/n and brugts linkup

↳ y/l/nballer5 me neither, this world cup’s gonna be amazing

Walking into the big hall, Vic behind me, I was starstruck. Everyone was already there, Roord, Van de Donk, Martens and even Brugts.

Vic pushed me and whispered in my ear “Kom op, je hebt nog twee maanden de tijd om naar dr te staren” (Come on, you have the next two months to stare at her) I started to get red and looked around checking if anyone heard us. Seeing this, Vic just started to laugh even harder. I pushed her and walked over to Kerstin who I knew from matches against City.

Kerstin was kind enough to introduce me to everyone. Shanice who played at Liverpool came launching at me, ready to pick me up. “Klein monster, je bent er!” (Little monster, you’re here!) she yelled and picked me up while hugging me tightly. I congratulated her with the announcement of her girlfriend’s pregnancy and went on to greet everyone.

And to my surprise, there’s still was someone I hadn’t met yet. Esmee Brugts. Before I could even walk towards her Andries started to speak.

He thanked everyone for coming, got into his very serious speech and ended with who would room with who. “… Vic en Merel, Jill en Shanice en last but not least y/n en Esmee” (… Vic and Merel, Jill and Shanice and last but not least, y/n and Esmee).

I was hoping to be roomed with Vic, having spend the last few months with her in Viv and Beth’s house. That was too much to ask apparently, but Esmee, now the universe is just trying to get back at me.

I awkwardly looked up in search for Esmee. When i found her she was staring at me already. She gave me one of those dumb smiles she gives the cameras. I gave her a tight smile back before i turned to Vic who was sitting next to me. “Dit lijkt wel een realityshow, veel succes sukkeltje” (This is almost a realityshow, good luck loser) and with that she walked away to grab her suitcase and went settle in with her roomie.

When i saw Esmee talking to Lieke i saw my chance and went to our room. It was like all the other rooms i’ve stayed in for national duty but definitely bigger. I wanted to take a look at the bathroom which was way bigger than I expected. The rainshower being the best part of it all.

Walking back into the bedroom Esmee was already getting settled on the bed by the door.

“Hi” she said sheepishly. “Hey” i smiled back, god why was i already getting red in the face. “Ik heb fifa meegenomen, wil je spelen?” (I brought fifa with me, do you wanna play?) she asked me opening her backpack to get something out. “Ja, alleen als je tegen je verlies kan. Ik ben fifa kampioen in Engeland” (Yes, only if you’re not a sore loser. I’m the fifa champion in England) I told her. She laughed at me and got the game out.

A few games of fifa and a whole lot of laughing further and it was time for dinner already. Jackie was the one knocking at our door and yelling for us to come.

Esmee had won multiple times after i won the first round but i’ll never admit that to anyone. “Rematch after dinner.” I told her and she just nodded and went to sit at the table with Daphne, Jackie, Kerstin, Daan and Damaris. I sat between Vic and Jill. Vic gave me one of her smug smiles and i just rolled my eyes at her.

“Dus y/n, hoe vind je het tot nu toe?” (So y/n, how do you like it so far?) Merel asks me. “Het is goed, ik ben blij met m’n nieuwe roomie, gelukkig niet zo’n slechte verliezer als jij” (It’s good, i’m happy with my new roomie, luckily not such a sore loser like you). Merel huffed “Ja tuurlijk alsof jij hebt gewonnen, ik check dat later nog wel” (Yeah sure as if you’ve won, i’ll check that later)

esmeebrugts

When iopened instagram this wasn’t what i expected. I ran up to my room and saw Esmee watching some Netflix show on her bed. When she saw my face she bursted out laughing. “Als blikken konden doden..” (If looks could kill..) she said. I walked straight to her bed, jumped on her and started tickling her. “Dat is wat je krijgt, ik moet mn fifa imago hoog houden!” (That’s what you get, i got to keep my fifa image high!) I yelled. “Oke oke! Ik zal het nooit meer doen pinky zweer!” (Okay Okay! I will never do it again pinky promise!) she told me with that stupid smile of her. I stopped and looked down at her, how is she even this pretty like come on.. Esmee looked me in the eyes, at my lips and then away. I got nervous and backed up.

“Uhh ja d-dus ik ga nu dus ik ga even iets uhh ja ik ga gewoon oke..” (Uhh yeah s- so im gonna get like some uhh yeah i’m just gonna go okay..) I mumbled and ran away bumping into Daan who was walking to her room.

Before we knew it we were off to Sydney, Australia. Vic forced me out of my window seat but slept before the plane was off the ground, what a waste of that window seat.. This was gonna be the most boring and long 24 hours of my life.

I was so tired when we landed, only getting a few hours of sleep. We were welcomed by a few staff members from fifa and went into the coach who would bring us to our basecamp.

I chose the best window seat i could find and expected a certain Arsenal player to sit next to me but Esmee beat her to it.

We talked about what we wanted to do in Australia, our opponents and family. When Esmee asked me about life in the wsl i was already fast asleep, my head resting on her shoulder.

Esmee looked down at y/n and started smiling. Vic saw the interaction and tapped Daan on her shoulder. They gave each other knowing looks and started giggling away. Esmee looked up and saw the duo staring at her, she went red at the idea of being caught staring at y/n. She turned her head quickly and stared out of the window, falling asleep not long after.

When i woke up i heard giggling and saw Vicky and Daan looking at Daans phone. I chose to ignore it and went on to look at my instagram feed.

daniellevddonk

“Danielle van de Donk, Victoria Pelova. Het maakt me niet uit hoe klein jullie zijn ik maak je dood” (Daniëlle van de Donk, Victoria Pelova. I don’t care how small you are i’ll kill you) I yelled maybe a little too hard because Esmee woke up. “Hey wat is er aan de hand?” (Hey what’s going on) she asked me, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. I showed her Daan’s story and she just shrugged “Awh zo erg is dat toch niet, je ziet er schattig uit” (Awh it’s not that bad, you look cute). I don’t know what came over me but i just started to blush and looked away making Vic and Daan laugh even harder.

The rest of the camp went smoother than i thought. I was roomed with Esmee and we did almost everything together. We played fifa, boardgames, sat at the same table and if it wasn’t that we were out exploring together. Most of the time we just got lost but that’s when google maps comes in handy.

We ended first in our group. Esmee making those two beautiful goals against Vietnam and I made my debut and debut goal.

When Andries announced that i was starting against Vietnam i was over the moon. The game started good with Lieke making the first goal in the 8th minute and Katja the second in the 11th. Esmee saw her chance and took a shot. Everyone knew it was in when the ball went off her foot. I was the first one to jump on her to celebrate, hugging her tightly. “Es! Es, je hebt het gedaan!” (Es! Es, you did it!) I yelled

My goal was much less spectacular. Jill hit the post and the ball landed at my feet, I tapped it in through the legs of the keeper and to the back of the net. I couldn’t even do a celebration because everyone was already on me. It’s not like celebrations are a nedwnt thing anyway.

When Esmee scored her second goal i was on the bench but that didn’t stop me from celebrating just as hard.

The game ended and i ran straight to Esmee, congratulating her on those two rockets.

(pretend that you’re Lieke Martens)

y/n_y/l/n

liked by esmeebrugts and 8.975 others

honoured to have made my World Cup debut and thankfull for every one of you ❤️ ps. Esmee, i love your right foot 🪄

comments

jackie_groenen_14 😍😍

viviannemiedema zo enorm trots op jou ❤️

esmeebrugts only my right foot? 🙄

esmeefan56 has anyone else seen esmee’s comment 😭

y/nbrugts1 their hug was so wholesome

As the days went by Es and i only got closer, everyone started to notice it, even the fans.

OranjeLeeuwinnen

liked by y/n_y/l/n and 23.893 others

exploring Sydney with the team 🗺️

comments

y/l/nfanxx isn’t that y/n and esmee??

↳ brugtsfan1 i think so, they’re so cute

↳ woso23 i ship them so hard 🫶

After our win against South Africa we had to play against Spain in the quarterfinals. This was our most difficult game and everyone knew it. But we all knew that if we were gonna win the World Cup, we should be able to beat every team.

It was the night before the game and surprise surprise, i couldn’t sleep. I don’t even know why, there was no chance that i would even play so who am i so nervous for?

after going from side to side i couldn’t take it anymore and just got out of bed and went on a walk. I walked to the pitch and started shooting and taking corners. I ran a few laps around the pitch and sat down. Australia is actually unreal. The weather is perfect and the sky is so clear you can even see stars (or planes that look like stars but whatever).

I heard footsteps walking towards me and groaned. “Hey waarom lig je niet in bed?” (Hey why are you not in bed?) Esmee asked as she sat next to me. “Ik kan niet slapen en jij?” (I can’t sleep and you?). Me neither she told me. This time around the silence wasn’t as awkward, it felt kinda nice to be honest.

Esmee wrapped her arms around me and layed my head on her shoulder. I don’t think i actually hate that stupid smile of hers or anything about her really. I quite love everything about her, especially her stupid smile.

“Y/n, ze hebben me bij Arsenal, Chelsea, Manchester City en een paar uhh.. andere clubs een contract aangeboden” (Y/n, Arsenal, Chelsea, Manchester City and uhh a few.. other clubs have have offered me a contract) she told me. “Es dat is geweldig, dan spelen we samen in de wsl” (Es that’s amazing, we’ll play in the wsl together) I cried. She gave me a nod and a hum.

Esmee turned her head and i looked up at her. “Ik hou meer van je dan alleen je rechter voet weet je” (I love you more than just your right foot you know) i told her looking down at my lap. She just chuckled and took my face into her hand. “Je hebt geluk dat ik ook van fifa verliezers hou” (you’re lucky i love fifa losers too), i fake angry pushed her away and she let out a laugh. “En jij hebt geluk dat ik je mag” (And you’re lucky that i like you) i told her. She looked at my eyes and then at my lips. I leaned forward and kissed her. Luckily she kissed me back.

We walked back to our room and fell asleep in her bed, her legs entwined with mine and my head in the crook of her neck.

When i woke up Es was already awake, getting ready in the bathroom. I walked up to her brushing her teeth and kissed her on cheek “good morning” I told her “Ik kan niet wachten tot je straks ook in Engeland speelt en we elke dag zo wakker kunnen worden” (Can’t wait until you’ll play in England too and we’ll wake up like this every morning) She gave me a lopsided smile and i started to get ready too.

I started on the bench and Esmee was starting. The game was tight, Spain scored in the 81th minute through a penalty. In extra time we scored. We still had a chance. And just like that, our dream was crushed. Spain scored in the 111th minute and we were out.

Esmee sank to the floor and covered her face with her hands. The spanish players were celebrating while our dream was gone.

I walked to Esmee and sat infront of her. “Es, je hebt gedaan wat je kon.” (Es, you did what you could) I told her and gave her a hug.

“Y/n ik ga naar Barça” (Y/n i’m going to Barça) she told me.

How stupid could i be, falling in love with someone i knew for a few months. How fucking stupid could i be, expecting her to come to England for me.

Just when i thought today couldn’t get worse... The tears rolled down my cheeks again and i walked away towards the tunnel, Vic screaming my name but i just ignored her.

A/N this is my first fic, english is not my first language so i’m sorry if i made mistakes!! might make a part 2?!

#esmee brugts #victoria pelova #vivianne miedema #arsenal wfc #arsenalwfc x reader #esmee brugts x reader #nedwnt #oranjeleeuwinnen #jill roord #woso x reader #woso community #wwc 2023

153 notes · View notes

bloodycyrano · 8 months

Text

I want to lore dump about my BG3 storyline and OCs so bad, but at the same time I don't want to release any information before it would come out in the future chapters of my fanfic, so to stave off the dark urge, here's.... 🥁🥁🥁

Team Tadpole doing sweet things for each other part 2!

Sometimes, when Astarion has trouble resting at night, Gale will stay up with him and play chess- They started with card games, but Astarion cheats like a fox. He still cheats at chess, but not as often.

Karlach probably notices when her comrades are in pain after battle, and will hug a sack of rocks until they heat up to make a sort of makeshift heating pad for sore muscles.- Bonus points, She'll borrow some scented oils from Halsin to add an element of aromatherapy.

Gale has 100% done talis card readings for Team tadpole when they deal with heavy emotional stuff, if only to help them find their path forward. Maybe he isn't the best at verbal comfort, but magic is one thing he knows he can use for at least some benefit.

I feel like Gale also notices when people aren't dealing well with things, and will purposefully annoy Durge so they have someone to pick on and hopefully feel a little better afterwards. They're definitely the sort of friends that pretend to hate each other, but are there when you need them. Durge definitely brings out his petty side, but its all in good fun. Usually.

While maybe they have a bit of a rocky relationship, I also believe Durge would indulge Gales special interests and let him ramble about things, because they know what it's like to have to shut up to make other people happy. I also feel like Gale would return the favor and deliberately ask about weird, macabre things so that Durge actually has an excuse to bring up topics that interest them.

Wyll has a knitting hobby. You probably wouldn't expect it, but he definitely does. And he's really really good at it, too. He uses every holiday as an excuse to gift people things like socks, scarves, mittens, etc. And I mean EVERY holiday. Earth day, valentines day, national owlbear day (Which is totally not something he made up as an excuse to give people their presents early), etc. The thing is, he notices when people complain about their socks getting worn from traveling, and gets random ideas for gifts at 3 AM, and then spends the rest of the night knitting. He has also been known to make cute little knitted outfits for the group pets in the winter, because he thought Scratch was getting cold.

Adding onto this, Lae'zel is the only person Wyll is willing to go to for a blunt and honest opinion on the gifts he makes before he gives them. Lae'zel doesn't take this lightly, either. While maybe she doesn't show it, she takes this very seriously and is somewhat honored that Wyll came to her instead of anyone else.

Shadowheart tends to replenish Wylls yarn reserve without telling him as well. She asks Lae’zel what colours he's run out of, and then sneak some extra spools into his pack. Wyll still doesn't know who's been doing it, but he's thankful nonetheless. And it's one thing the cleric and the gith can actually be somewhat peaceful about.

Durge doesn't take all of their kills lightly. When it comes to someone they actually respected, there's a ritual they perform afterward that they read about in Withers old temple. They'll grind bone and ash into ink and take time to write out the names of those they respected, and bury it with the bodies. As well as little offerings as well. It isn't a short process either.. Durge will spend the entire night locked in their caravan burning incense, praying their name to Jergal in hopes that the spirit will find rest, and doing little things in honor of the dead.- It isn't hard for team tadpole to figure out when Durge has taken the life of someone they held a genuine respect for, and will be careful not to disturb them, or leave bones or herbs/flowers on the steps of their caravan. Karlach and Astarion will occasionally come to check on them. While maybe it doesn't happen often, it does happen. Withers was particularly surprise to begin receiving prayers after all this time, but it strengthened a sort of bond between the two.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 durge #dark urge #gale dekarios #baldurs gate tav #lae'zel #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #karlach #scenarios #writing prompt #bg3 scenarios #bg3 withers #jergal

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alavit · 5 days

Text

Happy Nation (PART I).

Summary: A man will die, but not his ideas. Max’s Delicatessen is a place where only the lowest end, having gave up on solving a problem far too heavy for their shoulders, there— a new comer discovers an old face.

Tags: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader, Reader is kind of very mentally unwell, Fluff, Chaos, Five needs a hug, Y/n is taller than Five. TW: religious imagery, obsessive behavior from all of the Fives honestly and more to come.

Authors note: my hatred for season 4 can never subdue unless I let it out, since there’s infinite timelines— I found it funny to think of there being one where five dies and y/n is the one who survives but immediately gave up without him.

Side Note: the title is very much taken from Happy Nation by Ace of Base, you can also read this on ao3. I had a lot of fun, the Fives’ dynamics with y/n was my favorite thing to plan out, taglist open! Not beta read.

“You suck at chess, oh my god.” A voice calls out, laughing. “I wasn’t even trying, love, tell him so.” Another answer, this time sat by you, you don’t pay it much mind. Multiple voices come from around you, the usual chatter of the diner now a common scene on the wider canvas that was the mess going on, in itself, you had seen this coming when you agreed to stay there.

Granted, it was incredibly scary at first. But after stepping back and grasping the choices you had, you came to the conclusion that this was better than the alternative— why yes, because mourning? That was not in your chords. Barely allowing yourself to express your feelings had been the cause of your lover’s doom, after-all.

“You’re a sore loser.” You say, watching as he pouts at you and the other party began to laugh— all in good heart, you know he knows. All too happy, they’re all too content with having you here to dare actually be upset with you, for, one’s demise was their ultimate paradise.

You’ve heard countless tales by now, from you dying by the handler to simply you not existing at all in their world. The first day had been a disaster, a chorus of your own confusion and fright upon having stumbled upon the very face you had lost moments prior.

That was scary, thinking back on it— maybe not as scary as them being so infatuated with you but terrifying nonetheless.

“Play against me next, we’ll see if you’re-.” You offer, or well, were going to. Though that offer will have to be fulfilled another time— the sound of the door and the shift of atmosphere never goes unnoticed, especially not by you. You know of a newcomer when you feel it, another confused unfortunate soul. The Fives around you stare at you as you turn around, following your movements as your eyes land on the more than familiar face.

Getting up, you smile at Brisket before heading towards the Five still standing by the door— quickly followed by another one as you open your mouth. “Okay,” you begin. “Don’t freak out, okay? Don’t freak out.” That came across with more panic than you’d have intended.

“You’re the one freaking him out.” Another one joins in and you swear you can feel your eyes twitch. “I’m trying to help, you’re the one not offering the poor boy a seat, don’t antagonize me!” You retort, carefully smiling at the very much confused Five— he looks nothing short of a mess, eyes puffy and frustration etched on his face.

Oh. OH.. you think you know what went down, and, you don’t really like the aforementioned possibility that scenario would bring.

You’re more than sure you’ve died, well, not the you that stands before him and probably is bringing said man so close to the edge but you regardless. You’ve gotten used to it by now, being a compass to a newly awakened Five.

The realization that there’s no saving, early, because you don’t exist in that reality or rather late and even more crushing with the explanation of your death for it— this is not your 28th rodeo, but it sure isn’t your first.

“Hey,” you call out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay, you’re okay, dearest.” He wants to choke at the use of the nickname, but he looks slightly more comfortable compared to before.

You think at some point, you offer him a seat— and despite him not truly wanting you to leave, he listens to whatever alternate of him has sat at his table, your attention quickly grabbed by another Five, typical.

“Curious?” One asks you while you hum, offering you a sandwich, you answer with a smile before shrugging. “Aren’t you too?” You retort and he smiles. “Just in the tiniest, he looked crazed seeing you.” You both stare at each other. “-and I think we both have an idea why.” He finishes, ruffling your head as though you are the clueless one here and he is more aware.

Perhaps, he is, you don’t question it.

- -

“Y/n.” You blink, pulled away from the chess game when Five (as in, of course, the new one)— asks to sit by you and by proxy, the others him. God you truly do need to continue attempting in finding them all nicknames. “Yeah,” you agree, lightly smiling, silently indicating that it’s ok.

“Like looking through a mirror, isn’t it?” You joke, disregarding the previous activity before staring at him. “Sorry, by the way for you know— me.” Quickly putting that aside, you’re pinched, whereas the new Five looks concerned the others simply shake his head. “This is normal by the way.” One (Daisy) remarks as he takes a seat, beaming at you.

Daisy might have seemed an odd nickname, but it had made sense to you from the moment your eyes landed on him— like Brisket.

“It’s scary to lose someone.” You sat by Five(?), sliding a sandwich in front of his face as his brows furrowed— he wasn’t hungry, but he doubts you’d let him starve. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” You add, carefully inching your hand close to your face, wiping away a vacant tear.

You hadn’t asked much questions, it felt too odd at the time— but you remember the enthusiasm and speed at which he had agreed to the nickname.

(Rubbing it in the others’ faces that you hadn’t given them a nickname yet. That he got one, though, that went unnoticed by you).

“Mhhh..” you tapped your fingers on the table, ignoring how intently he had been staring— a smile on your face when you finally met his gaze, grinning.

“Daisy.” You finally said, watching how his expression faltered and inched into confusion for a moment before a small smile overtook his features. “Daisy..?” He echoed, lightly giggling.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “..I need to come up with nicknames for you guys, Brisket is well, Brisket— so you can be Daisy, that’s fine right?” You shyly(?) asked, and he shook his head— humming.

“Daisy it is. Thank you, dearest.”

(And so begin your quest for fitting nicknames, some.. better than others).

“Daisy?” The new Five questions, only met with a soft smile from his alternate— something is fishy about him, unlike a man that possibly as seen horrors— he looks like all he’s ever confronted is having to not help an old lady cross a road. “Daisy.” The owner of the title answers, shaking his head before laughing. “Don’t worry, it sounds weird to the tongue until you get used to it!”

But why Daisy? The new addition ponders, and when said Five sees you’ve been snatched away and are not watching— he answers what the other him seemed to have been questioning.

“You know flower language?” Daisy asks, watching as he’s given a complexed look. “New beginnings, joy.. purity.” Things that shouldn’t be applied to him, to any Five really.

“She thinks that of me, she sees me as one of the brightest of us here.” He proudly adds, before shaking his head. “Let’s get you something to eat, Friend.”

- -

He could never forget her, how sweet everything had seemed despite the odds that brought them together. Daisy had lost everything, he too once was aimlessly trying to save his family and when he found the key to it all, she had vanished with no regards.

That’s how it always begin with every Five, he had been told when he was a newcomer. The price of peace almost always comes with something, a life, your life.

Still, it was all the more disorientating to see you playing chess against.. himself? He had grasped the concept of the diner, but it didn’t make it all the more stressful. “Is that..?” Another one notices, humming while eating a sandwich. “Oh? Yeah, that’s Y/n.” He blankly comments, walking off with a wave. “We don’t really know how the timeline went,” Another Five adds, looking at him. “But she’s here instead of another one of us, a dream come true, nah?”

Maybe.

After a few hours, he had gotten the courage to approach you— you looked roughen up, annoyed and sleep deprived, adjectives that should’ve only applied to him.

You had looked cute nonetheless, you’d always look gorgeous to him, to them.

- -

“You get used to it at some point, trust me.” You lazily sat by the new Five, watching him with amusement before tapping your chin. What nickname could you give him? You wondered. So far, he had shown himself to mentally unwell, excepted after witnessing someone’s death.

(Even more so with the added factor of seeing the very same woman before him, he didn’t seem cheerful like daisy nor carefree like Brisket— but altogether not gloomy like Reaper usually was).

He seemed to follow the flow of things, often needing guidance from the others to understand what he could and couldn’t do here, though honestly, you don’t recall there being rules.

“Sheep.” You settled on, watching as his head tilted to the side— blinking at you with big doe eyes. “Sheep?” He questioned, not noticing how the others perked up— was this something important? He was like a deer in headlights.

“…isn’t sheep a cute name?” Oh. He slightly flushed, nodding before the situation finally settled in.

“It’s okay.” He agreed, watching as you brought your arm around his shoulders— ruffling his hair as you hummed and offered a smile he knew all too well, except this one wasn’t sad, not worried about the upcoming doom that could’ve been met.

He liked this.

“Welcome, Sheep.” You laughed, the greetings echoed by a few others— he wonders how many of them you’ve managed to nickname, surely not all, he’s pleasantly surprised at the fact he got one so early. He feels content.

It brings a sense of individualism, like he’s more than just another version to him— and that’s true, you make sure to remember which one you’re talking to, know almost every Five that hasn’t came to play chess or poker with you.

..it just makes him all the more curious about what happened in your universe, that he doesn’t say, a couple of cards are given his way by another him (Ruby? He thinks?).

“You’re playing too? Dearest?” Another one calls out, and you shake your head— bringing him closer to you, right, your arm around his shoulder.. it’s oddly reassuring.

“Ah! No thanks, i’ll watch you all battle instead.” You joke, whispering in Sheep’s ear, a shiver running down his spine. “Hope you’re not a sore loser like them.”

And he smiles, just the slightest.

Because then, everyone is trying to get you to take that back while others simply smile– the sound of bickering almost comforting, and somehow, he gets it.

This odd way of life brings something, a not so foreign feeling, the same as when he was with you— is right now.

It’s happiness, one brought to him so weirdly, but indeed there.

He wonders how much he can get out of Daisy or Ruby when you’re chatting away, he can’t deny he loves you, whether it’s the mourning or not.

And so, as much as the idea of sharing makes him puke— Five observes, burrowing himself in your warmth as you both lean your heads together.

He feels so warm.

written by alavit — do not translate nor copy my works.

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jessamine-rose · 2 years

Text

♙ ♘ ♗ Chess Piece ♖ ♕ ♔

………..hi. I would like to present the side story to Disjecta Membra, a collection of bonus scenes + epilogue told from Pierro’s POV. Do enjoy this fic and suffer ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

A big thank you to @diodellet for her peer review, @frogchiro for her help in my Pierro characterization, and @seakicker for the fic inspiration!! I’m still questioning how I ended up writing for the Jester, and you can thank them for making it possible <3

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping, coercion, blood, violence, death, psychological trauma, self-deprecation, alcohol consumption, Dottore is here, spice, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI

Note:: Female reader who is a fallen goddess, pre-release Pierro

♡ 5.4k words under the cut ♡

i. pawn

The entire forest is consumed by mist.

He walks down the path, maneuvering around the haze. As the mist shifts, he rushes to an unobscured patch of grass to elude its grasp.

Another blind spot. How many more areas are free from her surveillance?

Knowing his savior, she’d detect his location once the mist touches him. Despite their heart-to-heart conversations, the fact remains that his life is in a god’s hands. It would be good to know the way around the forest without her guidance.

Remain vigilant. If he isn’t careful, he may end up like the lost animals ensnared in her hunting traps.

After a few more blind spots, he finds a familiar stone path. The area is cleared of mist to reveal weathered gravestones and deep blue flowers. He walks along the perimeter and stops in the heart of the cemetery, where a veiled figure is sweeping the fallen leaves.

He hides behind the trees.

In her human guise, the God of Mist is indistinguishable from an ordinary human. Her expression is solemn as she cleans and greets each gravestone.

“Fane.”

“Kay.”

“Algos.”

“Charis.”

And so on. Such devotion to one’s followers is unheard of; then again, the mere fact of ______’s kindness sets her apart from the gods who destroyed his nation.

Her friends and followers are fortunate to have a peaceful resting place. If only he could say the same for his own compatriots.

The statues are next. She approaches the shorter figure and plucks the dead flowers out of its cracks. Her voice takes on a lighter tone.

“Pasithea, your flowers have outnumbered mine. I can’t tell if it’s because yours are multiplying or if mine are dying out. Either way, you’re as competitive as always.”

A bitter laugh escapes her lips. She lifts her veil.

The Khaenri’ahn peers closer at her face. This is an expression which he has never seen during their meals together. The smiles directed at him are usually gentle and uplifting, never this desolate. When she greets the other statue, her smile disappears completely.

“Hello, Oizys,” she whispers. “Happy birthday.”

He tenses. Despite ______’s assurance that she holds no grudge against Khaenri’ah, her loss is strongly felt. The Child of Night’s absence looms over them in the tableware he uses, the chores assigned to him, his next destination.

She checks his grave. “Not even a blade of grass? What kind of plant will satisfy you? You’re so picky until now.”

His gaze shifts to the statue’s Claymore. The weapon is real, bearing the telltale marks of a Field Tiller’s attacks. Just how many of his people were cut down by that blade?

“The Khaenri’ahn is doing well,” his savior continues. “It won’t be long until he leaves for Miseria. I know, you’d be furious…but what do you expect me to do? How could I leave that poor thing to die?”

That poor thing.

He can’t tell if he feels more relieved or offended by that statement.

“...I’m sorry.” She disperses the mist around the statue’s eyes, meeting its discolored gaze. Her voice shakes as she looks around the cemetery. “You…all of you know that, right?”

How long has she been weighed down by grief? Is this not the same person who claimed he would one day move on from the calamity?

All of a sudden, the mist rises. The Khaenri’ahn huddles closer to the tree to avoid it. Through the haze, he watches as ______ stomps on the barren grave and bursts into tears.

“Why did you even bother to come home?!” she shouts. “To see me one last time? To put a stop to my waiting? To…to punish me with the sight of your corpse?!”

Is this what will become of him? Will his vengeance ever amount to recovery?

The statue blankly stares ahead.

Her voice breaks. “It’s not fair that—why did it have to be you? When will it be my turn?!”

Or will he, too, live the rest of his life burdened by his own survival?

The Khaenri’ahn resists the urge to leave his hiding place.

For what feels like ages, the only sounds in the cemetery are the anguished cries of his savior. Still sniffling, she calms the mist and faces the statue again.

“I…I have to leave,” she says softly. She casts a strained smile at her friend’s likeness, cheeks glistening with tears. “I’ll come back with your cake tonight, okay? See you later.”

With that, the statue’s eyes are concealed once more. She sets her broom aside, and the Khaenri’ahn leaves the cemetery.

He is able to retrace his steps without difficulty, but the lingering pain from his injuries is debilitating. Before he can enter the temple, a hoarse voice calls out to him.

“What are you doing outside?” ______ approaches him, her veil back to its usual style. Under the sheer fabric, a frown crosses her face. “I thought I told you to rest.”

Does she suspect anything?

“I needed some fresh air,” he replies, keeping his voice light.

“I see…”

The mist swirls around them. The Khaenri’ahn meets her gaze, holding his breath.

The curiosity in her gaze gives way to concern. “Let me accompany you next time. I don’t like the thought of you wandering the forest alone. What if you get hurt?”

As though she doesn’t already fret over him at the slightest lift of a finger.

He walks past her. “You need not concern yourself with that possibility.”

Spoken too early. Pain suddenly shoots up his broken ankle, causing him to stumble. He almost falls, if not for ______ catching him.

“Are you all right?!”

How humiliating.

He avoids her gaze. “Thank you. You can let go of me now.”

______ is unconvinced. She keeps a firm grip on him and examines his new scars. “Let’s go inside, dear. I’ll check your injuries.”

“If you insist,” he mutters.

…Up close, his savior’s puffy eyes and dried tears are visible under her veil.

“Where were you, anyway?” he asks.

“Oh, me?” The smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “I was just tending to the achlys flowers. Moving on, I’m baking a berry shortcake later. Would you like some?”

He hesitates. “That would be lovely.”

It is futile to offer comfort to someone who clearly refuses it. What could he possibly say to her as one who has just recently lost his own people?

No, that isn’t the right mindset.

If grief will not leave him, he must make it into what fuels his vengeance. Only after his weaknesses are burned away can he become strong enough to rebel against the divine.

He walks through the mist this time.

Only then will he be in a position to wipe her tears.

ii. knight

The religious art is disappointing.

Pierro studies the weathered fresco. It depicts a veiled figure hovering above a crowd of faceless followers, isolated by swirls of mist. The subject’s face is eroded beyond recognition.

She was wrong. None of her sacred depictions can compare to their model.

He touches the figure with a gloved hand. The image is divine, passive, untouchable. He doubts that the original face has the kind eyes and gentle smile from his memories.

“Sergeant Luda.”

A Fatui subordinate rushes towards him, bowing slightly. “Yes, Lord Harbinger?”

Pierro gestures to the fresco. “Extract this painting from the wall and include it in the list of artifacts to be transported to my personal estate. I expect no transit damage.”

“Noted, my lord! Do you have any other orders?”

��I have but one command. Demolish the temple before you leave.”

“Excuse me?” Luda’s tone turns doubtful. “You want us to destroy this place? All of it?”

He gives her a cold look. “Must I repeat myself?”

She bows again. “N-No! Forgive my blunder, Lord Harbinger!”

“That is all, Sergeant.”

With that, Luda quickly stands up and barks a few orders at her coworkers.

Pierro looks around the temple ruins. No mist hovers over ______’s old territory. Several Fatui subordinates are sifting through the debris for surviving artworks and relics.

Would she ever forgive him for erasing her existence from the world? Can he say the same for himself, with the knowledge that he is committing the crime against his homeland?

“My lord!” Another subordinate enters the temple and kneels before him.

“Lieutenant Daniil,” he says. “I presume that Agent Leonid has departed from the forest adjacent to Miseria.”

Daniil nods eagerly. “Correct, sir. According to my spies, Agent Leonid has made a full recovery from his injuries. He and the previous defectors have permanently settled in the city.”

About time that traitor left her company. “Punish the next traitor. The attackers need not follow them this time; just ensure that they reach the forest in a wounded state.”

“Yes, my lord!”

“That will be all.”

Pierro approaches the next set of scattered fragments. The old manuscripts have been reduced to yellow shreds. He pieces together what seems to be a quote by █████ herself.

“May you find refuge in every place where my blood has mixed with the air.”

He smiles to himself.

His savior is truly too kind for her own good. With how easy it has been to orchestrate a hostage situation, ______’s voluntary surrender is guaranteed.

He wonders if she will recognize him during their reunion—or even welcome him, given his new status as the director of the Fatui. If she doesn’t, he will still consider it a pyrrhic victory.

It is only proof that he has outgrown her mercy.

iii. bishop

Their reunion goes as planned.

It doesn’t take long for ______ to accept their new power dynamic. Prior objections aside, she quickly adjusts to her new life as the Jester’s partner. She is an elegant sight in her Snezhnayan dresses and Khaenri’ahn jewelry.

…Pierro does miss their peaceful days of home-cooked meals and friendly conversations. His darling’s fear and respect is as frustrating as it is gratifying. She isn’t afraid to challenge him with moments of petulance.

For what it is worth, she no longer addresses him as “dear” or her other patronizing pet names. At times, their double-sided arguments are quite engaging.

At any rate, his other objective has been achieved. The new resources acquired from ______’s relinquished territory serve more purposes than the Lord of the Hearth’s fire.

“Jester, I come bearing a report on our latest Archon Residue experiment.”

Pierro looks up from his signed documents. “Dottore, I expect impressive results since you took the initiative to request a meeting with me.”

The Doctor closes the door behind him, smiling. “You will be pleased to learn that we are making progress with the remains of the Goddess of Consciousness. Her powers have manifested in the test subjects, albeit their mental faculties remain incoherent.”

Pierro recalls ______’s last visit to Zapolyarny Palace. She didn’t seem to recognize the melody sung by the test subjects.

“Rectify that side effect immediately.”

“As you wish.” Dottore looks up from his research notes and glances at the empty sofa. “Is your darling currently at home?”

“Does her presence have any bearing on your report?” he asks sharply.

“No, it doesn’t. I was merely curious, given that I’ve only had the privilege of meeting her once. Oh, but I did find something very interesting in the test subject’s speech patterns.”

Pierro grips his pen. “Go on.”

“Imagine my curiosity when I noticed a recurring name,” he continues. “‘█████.’ The test subjects kept shouting that name—quite hysterically, I might add. Initially, I brushed them off as an insignificant friend of the deceased god until I made an important recollection.”

Dottore walks over to the sofa and runs his hand along the headrest.

“Do you remember our first meeting, Jester?”

“How is this relevant?” asks Pierro. “I recruited you in Sumeru and you eagerly accepted my offer. I can vividly recall your hysterical reaction to your new title.”

“No, after that. If my memory serves me correctly, you inquired about the House of Daena’s religious archives. After which I noticed a few ancient books and manuscripts amongst your luggage, most of which referenced a divine being known as █████.”

He knows.

Dottore adjusts his mask, a crimson twinkle in his eyes. “I did question your interest in that unknown god. If we can obtain the remains of the God of Mist, as we did with our current specimens and the Lord of the Hearth, I can use—”

“Dottore.”

The air grows cold. The Doctor pauses, meeting Pierro’s glare.

He puts down his pen. “You should know by now that I am not one to entertain baseless assumptions. Moreover, I must address your previous invasion of my privacy.”

“Oh?” Dottore approaches the desk, eyes wide. “I presumed that you could fill in the blanks for me, seeing how none of those ancient texts are listed in the Fatui’s libraries. Shall I ask your darling instead? I heard that you acquired her from the same location which sourced the new Archon Residue specimens.”

Enough of this.

“I advise you to watch your words, Zandik,” says Pierro. “My partner has nothing to do with your little investigation. I do not pry into your private affairs, particularly the Akademiya scholar you have been stalking, so it would do you well to reciprocate the gesture.”

A moment of silence passes.

“Of course. I know better than to pry into forbidden knowledge.” Resigned, Dottore picks up his research notes and flips to another page. “Before I leave, I have another report to share with you.”

Pierro picks up his pen. “Proceed."

“In seemingly unrelated news, I have the results of the chemical test you requested. For the most part, I identified common household substances in the carpet samples you sent me…apart from one compound.”

“And that is?”

“Among the chemical components, I found low traces of Archon Residue.”

So his suspicions were correct.

Dottore’s smile returns. “I wonder how such a substance ended up in your estate. But given your earlier admonishment, I won’t pry into the matter any further.”

Pierro gives him a stern look. “If you have nothing more to report on, you are dismissed.”

“Very well. I bid you a good night.”

With that, Dottore places the research notes on the desk and leaves the office.

That explains the information from his spies.

Pierro reads the second report.

He did find it quite odd that ______ requested an extensive tour of the estate and was later seen with a bandaged thumb. So she had claimed her prison in his absence.

How clever of her.

It was wise of him to lock the doors to his personal quarters. Until it is necessary for him to divulge his awareness of her scheme, he should avoid formal meetings in his estate.

Despite his irritation, he can’t help but feel impressed.

Well-played, ______.

iv. rook

The replicated festival is a success.

Since her birthday, his darling has been more docile. The smiles directed at Pierro are more soft, cheerful, paired with brighter eyes. Their dinner conversations are more relaxed.

However, her kindness remains a double-edged blade.

“Hello, little ones.” ______ crouches down in the snow, a warm smile on her face. “May I know your names?”

The children eagerly crowd around her, small hands grabbing at her dress and veil. One child takes advantage of their eye-level position to play with her necklace, to which she laughs and lightly scolds him.

“No, you can’t have it. It’s from—wait, don’t pull the chain!”

He should have kept her at home.

“Lord Harbinger.” The orphanage caregiver gives Pierro a nervous look. “If the children are bothering your partner, I can send them to their rooms.”

He turns to face them. “There is no need. You may proceed with your report on the next batch of recruits.”

“Thank you for your leniency, my lord!”

Pierro casts a final glance at the courtyard. His darling is managing the children quite well, all things considered. After saving her necklace, she carries the offender and lifts him high above her head. Her laughter has never sounded more lively.

What a heartwarming sight.

He will allow it, so long as she doesn’t object to their fate.

*✧･ﾟ

“You appeared to be in high spirits earlier.”

“Are you referring to the orphans?”

The bedchambers feel less empty with ______’s presence. She lies on her side of the bed, an enthusiastic smile on her face.

“They were adorable! Those precious lambs asked me to participate in all sorts of games. You should have seen little Damien; he kept running around and ‘defeating’ me with a wooden sword.”

Damien Morozov, eight years old. Already shows promise in swordsmanship.

Pierro hangs his coat in his wardrobe. “Are you partial to the company of children?”

“I guess so.” She takes off her veil, eyes dimming. “I used to play with my young followers often. Why do you ask?”

“I was merely curious. You were quite eager to entertain the orphans’ antics.”

Would she be as loving with their own children?

Pierro unlocks the drawer. His old Khaenri’ahn attire remains in good condition. He can still remember the time ______ mended his clothes, requesting permission to cover up the holes with her embroidery. Every little star and diamond seemed to breathe new life into the fabric.

If he is ambitious enough, he can envision it clearly. A new set of embroidered clothes for a smaller frame. A family portrait displayed in their manor. Tiny pupils shaped like four-pointed stars, sparkling with innocence. His darling’s gaze filled with love and devotion.

“Pierro? What are you looking at?”

He closes the drawer. “That is none of your concern.”

______ gives him a suspicious look. “If you say so.”

Now is not the time to entertain such delusions.

The divine rebellion has barely begun. Likewise, so long as his darling remains an unwilling captive, he would be a fool to imagine any semblance of a happy family with her.

It is a tempting thought, however.

Pierro locks the drawer and approaches the bed.

For whatever reason, his darling has morphed into her true form. Her skin is dusted with gray dots and swirls resembling mist. A clear reminder of her divine nature.

His gaze stops at her wrists.

Even with her divine markings, her bruises are evident. The same can be said for the dark blemishes on her hips and knees.

He observes her exposed face this time. It was quite satisfying to provoke those honest expressions out of her. He couldn’t get enough of the look in her eyes.

Neediness, trepidation, absolute submission. All for him.

His hand slams down on the pillow, a few centimeters away from her head.

“Pierro?” She startles, turning her head to face him. “What is it?”

He doesn’t offer an explanation this time, just leans down and kisses her. His other hand pulls down the neckline of her dress.

“Hey…ah! Stop!”

She lightly shoves him, only for her wrist to be easily pinned to the mattress.

Pierro pulls away, ending the kiss. His other hand traces the curve of her chest, eliciting another soft gasp. “Have you taken your contraceptive recently?”

She looks away, biting her lip. “I…”

He puts his hand under her chin, tilting her face upwards. “I asked you a question, ______.”

His darling looks so powerless beneath him. So easy to break. To desecrate.

She nervously meets his gaze. “I…I did.”

“Excellent. Then I don’t need to hold back.”

He sets his own mask aside and kisses her with more fervor.

The Old World is no place for the future of Khaenri’ah. Until absolute peace has been achieved, that dream will have to remain a fantasy.

Until then, his darling’s affection will solely belong to him.

v. queen

The Snezhnayan winters are becoming more frigid.

“Is the temperature of the room to your satisfaction?” Pierro drapes another blanket over his darling’s shoulders. “Inform me if you need another blanket.”

She gives him an exasperated look. “There is no need to coddle me. My human vessel isn’t that frail, you know.”

Says the person who once drowned him in blankets and hot tea on a rainy day.

“The nights will be colder at this time of the year. There is no harm in looking out for your physical health.”

“Then the same can be said for you.” Despite her earlier remark, she wraps herself in the blanket. “Even I can’t stand the Snezhnayan environment. Don’t you get sick of the cold?”

Pierro glances at the window. Outside, another blizzard paints the sky with swirling snow. White, frigid, nothing like Celestia’s sea of flames.

“I am rather impartial to this nation’s climate,” he replies, returning to the sofa.

A chessboard sits on the low table, along with a bottle of fire-water. ______ empties her glass and refills it to the brim.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “I did not take you for one to overindulge in vices.”

Another glass finished. “You drank nearly as much as I did.”

“I know my limits.” He confiscates the bottle and hands her a glass of water. “That is enough wine for you. Any more, and you will make a fool out of yourself later.”

She rolls her eyes, but drinks it and lowers her veil. “All right. Shall we continue our game?”

Regardless, he will be the sole audience to her inebriated theatrics.

“If you are so confident that you can play with a clouded mind.”

His attention returns to the chessboard. ______’s opening move was a direct challenge. No mercy, then.

He moves a black pawn. “Disregarding the climate, you have become well-adjusted to Snezhnaya. I must commend your growth over the previous year.”

“You think so?” She stares at the chessboard, assessing the pieces. “That isn’t a big achievement, seeing how all I’ve done is behave in the estate like a model prisoner.”

A model prisoner who remains strategic.

“I beg to disagree. From what I have seen, your current conduct and level of education are befitting of your new status.”

The expression under her veil is doubtful. “You’re just being nice. My studies, this dress, the title you gave me…it doesn’t make me any more worthy for the New World.”

Her next move is clumsy.

Pierro easily counterattacks. “I shall be the judge of that.”

The game continues. Chess pieces are toppled. With each sequence, the influence of alcohol becomes more apparent. ______ begins to mumble, sway slightly, make bad moves.

“Another loss.” She frowns at her toppled king. “No fair…how are you so good at this game? How many victories would that make for you?”

Pierro touches her cheek. He can feel her warmth through the fabric of his gloves.

“You should rest,” he decides. He places the chess pieces back in their original squares. “Can you walk to the bedchambers on your own or shall I escort you?”

“What a chivalrous offer,” she scoffs. She gathers the sacrificed pawns, only for the pieces to slip out of her loose grasp. “You are insufferable, you know that? Impossible to comprehend…”

He might as well take advantage of her openness. “Why do you say this?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” ______ rests her head on her palm and peers at him with glassy eyes, chess pieces forgotten. “For starters, while you have been concerned about my health all night, I have no doubt that you will scold me tomorrow and make me study despite my hangover.”

“You wouldn’t have to suffer from a hangover if you had drunk less wine,” he shoots back.

She shakes her head. “Honestly, I can’t figure you out. One moment, you’re absolutely cruel and strict towards me; next, you make me so happy that I almost forget our arrangement. It makes me feel so conflicted, the way you treat me…I hate it.”

“So why do you endure it?”

“Huh?”

The office feels more humid. Perhaps she had involuntarily raised her mist.

Pierro holds her arm, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You claim to be a weak deity, yet my research states otherwise. And despite your powers, you have never made an attempt on my life—both in the past and in the present. Why is that?”

She stares back at him, eyes wide behind her veil. “That…”

He glares at her, strengthening his grip. “Are you truly as foolish as you are kind? Or does your mercy stem from pity towards that poor thing you saved all those years ago?”

For a few seconds, his darling is silent. She looks away, her arm limp in his grasp.

“Of course not. I…I just don’t want to get in your way,” she mumbles. Her gaze trains on the medals displayed on the wall. “You’re amazing, you know that? You became stronger…found a new purpose in life…now you’re actively changing the world for the better.”

He could get drunk off her praise.

“So it would be a shame if you lost it all because of me,” she continues. Then she shakes her head, smiling. “But what am I saying? You will never let that happen, no matter your fondness nor gratitude towards me.”

He lets go of her arm. “There is no use in reflecting on that theory.”

“Really now? If the Tsaritsa ever viewed me as an obstacle, would you kill me for her?”

Would he?

When was the last time he found himself at a loss of words? As far as he can recall, it was years ago—back when the Tsaritsa posed a similar question.

“The God of Mist? I did not know she was still alive. So she saved you in the past, and now you intend to overthrow her and keep her for yourself.”

Pierro cleared his throat. “I humbly request your permission, Your Majesty. Apart from the elimination of a potential threat, the subjugation of █████ will provide the Fatui with a new territory and invaluable resources.”

“Yes, and I imagine that you recognized every possible benefit prior to this discussion,” she said knowingly. “You have my permission. I trust your judgment.”

“You have my gratitude,” he replied, bowing.

“Oh, but Pierro?”

He looked up to face her. The Tsaritsa was the opposite of his previous savior—pure, sacrosanct, a kindred spirit who had chosen the path of vengeance and revolution. From her lofty throne, she couldn’t look more divine.

Her gaze was cold. “Remember where your loyalties lie.”

Without hesitation, he kneeled before her.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“It is illogical to compare love and worship,” he finally says. “Do not ask a question you already know the answer to, especially one which you will likely forget in the morning.”

“All right.”

The look on her face shows pure understanding. Yet despite the tears welling up in her eyes—from fear? Disappointment? Heartbreak?—her smile seems genuine.

“I am glad to hear that,” she says, voice trembling. “Any other answer, and you would be no better than a lovesick fool.”

How did she appear during their first chess game? Compared to the savior of his memories, the god before him looks so fragile. Acquiescent. Openly vulnerable.

This time, she doesn’t protest when he lifts her veil. Pierro leans over the table and brushes his thumb against her flushed cheek, wiping away her tears.

“Rest assured, I will never allow such a situation to happen,” he says softly. “My final choice would not be without internal strife.”

After all he has endured, such a scenario would be the greatest loss in his life.

“And why is that?” she asks.

“Because above all, you are the only good thing left of the Old World.”

vi. king

“Pierro.”

“Psst, Pierro.”

“Rise and shine…”

“Wake up!”

At the sensation of the pillow hitting his face, Pierro grimaces and catches her wrist.

“What do you want?” he mutters, opening his eyes.

______ looms over him, eyes faintly glowing in the dark. “Finally, you’re awake.”

He turns to his side and glances at the clock. “Is it already past midnight?”

She gives him a bright smile. “Happy anniversary!”

No wonder.

Pierro lets go of her wrist and sits up, facing the window. The sky is still dim, on the cusp of twilight. The lingering darkness is dotted with stars.

“Did you feel the need to greet me as soon as you woke up?” he asks drily.

Despite her nightgown and bedhead, ______ looks full of energy.

“Yes,” she replies. A proud smile plays across her lips. “This marks the ninety-ninth time I said it first.”

“Don’t look so triumphant,” he tells her. He brushes the loose strands of hair away from his face. “It will take centuries for you to catch up to me.”

“I know. So have mercy on your dear wife and let me have this one victory.”

He might as well. These days, her celebrations are solely limited to their birthdays and milestones. For this day alone, he will let his darling have her fun.

He still hasn’t returned her greeting.

“Happy anniversary,” he says with a soft smile. “Are you going back to sleep?”

She shakes her head. “No, so neither will you. We might as well prepare breakfast now that we’re awake.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “I saw the menu last week, along with what you planned for lunch and dinner. Wouldn’t you say that our banquet is too much for two people?”

At that, she holds his hand and intertwines their fingers. The dim light is caught in the pale blue gems of their rings.

“Of course not,” she smiles. “After all, we are commemorating the day I was shackled to you for all eternity. Such a tragic event deserves a grand celebration, doesn’t it?”

Pierro presses a kiss against her knuckles. “If you insist.”

How long has it been since their wedding? In her Khaenri’ahn gown, his darling was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Her happy tears marked her ultimate resignation.

His darling is extra touchy throughout their daily routine. Eye contact in the bathroom mirror. An unruly necklace clasp and corset strings. Fleeting touches as she helps him change into his own suit.

“You may open your gift after breakfast,” Pierro informs her as he puts on his mask. “I believe you will find it to your satisfaction.”

She turns to him, fully dressed. Her divine marks have faded into her human guise. She looks elegant, dignified, perfect for a Harbinger’s spouse.

“How exciting. After all these years, you never fail to surprise me,” she says. “I hope you are equally receptive to your own present.”

Pierro slips an embroidered handkerchief into his pocket, taking a moment to admire the new four-pointed stars. “I can only imagine what design you came up with this year.”

Their daily routine is over. Before they leave the room, ______ faces him and pulls him into her embrace. Her grip is strong.

“Hey, Pierro, how much longer until the rebellion ends?” she asks.

He wraps his arms around her. “Why do you ask?”

Thin wisps of natural mist swirl around them, weak and bloodless.

She leans into him. “Ever since the Fatui began acquiring the Gnoses, you’ve been even busier. Do take a break once in a while. And don’t put yourself in danger, you hear me?”

Her hands tremble. The mist rises, enveloping them in a cold haze.

“I find it insulting that you still entertain those fears,” he shoots back. He steps out of the mist. “As I said years ago, it will take more than a vengeful god or your antics to dispose of me.”

The mist disperses.

“I’ll trust you with that.” ______ releases him, a sincere smile on her face. “The sooner the New World is achieved, the sooner you can rest. And the more time I have with you.”

Under her veil, her eyes shine brighter than the stars. She is still speaking—his real name, whispered in such an adoring, reverent tone.

He should enjoy their special day while it lasts. Once their private party comes to an end, it will be back to work. Back to Zapolyarny Palace, his petulant Harbingers, Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, the future of the New World. But today, he can enjoy the present with his darling.

At the last whisper, he smiles and pulls her closer. Lifts her veil. Silences her with a kiss. Holds her gaze, staring into those hopeful orbs which reflect only him.

“I look forward to it.”

♡

Read the Author’s Note here!!

To think Pierro would end up with the longest, most twistedly wholesome side story…….how tf did that happen ;-; Also hahaha cheers to Dottore appearing in another Harbinger’s fic for the second time. Chemistry reference, anyone?? :>

Thank you to everyone who expressed their love for Disjecta Membra!! I didn’t expect so many ppl to like my version of Pierro and Savior! Darling, and I hope you all enjoyed Chess Piece. Do inform me of your suffering brainrot and consider sharing this to spread the Pierro agenda~

Tag a Pierro enjoyer!! @kocherry @mirdance @victoria1676 @mnemosyneechan @artiifex @pierroswife @fluffy-koalala @lcveaesop @teabutmakeitazure @nicebonescomrades @ansy-tea @oofasleep @leftdestiny-posts @thescribeoflostmemories @elysiasfiance @frostedclementine

Thank you for your interest in reading!! @yandere-romanticaa @ddarker-dreams @cinnamonest @yanmaresu @gum-iie

#pierro #pierro x reader #yandere pierro x reader #yandere pierro #yandere fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: death #spicy warning #mdni #fem reader #jessamine-writing

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lcdrarry · 4 months

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LCDrarry 2024 Round-Up Post | Week 3

On Sundays during our posting period, we won't post a new work, instead you have time to catch up with the works that posted during the week and hopefully leave lovely comments for our creators.

Happy reading, commenting and sharing! ;)

~Your LCDrarry Mods

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information. Thank you!

PPS: Please share far and wide! Thank you!!

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Podfic

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"The Pirc Defence" by sleepstxtic

Prompt: "The Queen’s Gambit", 2019, Scott Frank Written by: @sleepstxtic Narrated by: Anonymous Podfic Length: 01:05:00 Rating: Explicit Warnings: None

Summary: They were rivals, and they were lovers, and they were the greatest chess players of their generation. Exactly in that order.

Listen to it now on AO3.

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Art

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Draco's Moving Castle

Prompt: "Howl's Moving Castle", 2004, Hayao Miyazaki Prompted by: @Somethingveryodd (newskyillusion on ao3) Author: Anonymous Art Medium: Digital Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: Art for LCDrarry2024 fest. Prompt was Howl's Moving Castle.

Read it now on AO3.

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Fic

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we were born to be national treasures

Prompt: "Legally Blonde", 2001, Robert Luketic Prompted by: MoonyEmilie3017 (ao3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 4,979 words Rating: General Audiences Warnings: There is nothing triggering in the work, although it does heavily rely on the subject of needing academic validation as a woman in a patriarchal society.

Summary: Danica Malfoy is determined to study law and move forward in life. But is anything really ever that simple?

Read it now on AO3.

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End of Beginnings

Prompt: "All of Us Strangers", 2023, Andrew Haigh Prompted by: Anonymous Author: Anonymous Word Count: 5,324 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Canonical Character Death

Summary: As Harry and Draco start developing a relationship, Harry finds himself drawn back to the Potter house in Godric's Hollow, where his parents appear to be living just as they were on the day they died.

Based on the movie All of Us Strangers (2023) though you don't have to have seen it to understand the fic.

Read it now on AO3.

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The Potters : Possessed case

Prompt: "The Conjuring", 2013, James Wan Prompted by: Anonymous Author: Anonymous Word Count: 12,039 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Horror, blood, vomiting, mention of suicide, possession, exorcism

Summary: After a lecture, Harry and Draco meet a frightened woman, telling them that her entire family is scared to death of their new house.

But Harry and Draco wanted to take a break after a traumatising case. Maybe it's just natural causes and the house isn't haunted, right?

Read it now on AO3.

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By the Book

Prompt: "The Proposal", 2009, Anne Fletcher Prompted by: Anonymous Author: Anonymous Word Count: 14,586 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: It’s hard being Draco Malfoy: workaholic publishing professional extraordinaire. Between revolutionizing the Wizarding World and fighting with Harry Potter, his chief of staff, it makes sense Draco forgot to check his mother filed some paperwork. Oops. Easy enough to avoid deportation by saying he’s engaged to said manager.

Too bad that plan involves visiting Ottery St Catchpole, a gaggle of redheads, and defrauding the government.

Read it now on AO3.

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this strange effect

Prompt: "Killing Eve" (2018 - 2022) Prompted by: Soulmates Drarry Author: Anonymous Word Count: 30,670 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Violence, Blood and Injury, Assassinations, Killing Eve AU, Murder, Light Poisoning, Obsessive Behavior, Reference to past addiction issues, Presents

Summary: Harry hated his job, his cousin, and his inability to figure out how to fit into the boring, depressing world around him. He kept his peace until Draco Malfoy turned out to not be dead like Harry thought he was. Deadly, though? Harry was going to figure that out.

Read it now on AO3.

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The Heart of the Heart

Prompt: "Howl's Moving Castle", 2004, Hayao Miyazaki Prompted by: @Somethingveryodd (newskyillusion on ao3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 52,775 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: Harry Potter’s boring routine comes crumbling down when he takes the wrong shortcut at the wrong time; he almost ends up in a brawl, gets rescued by a handsome stranger, successfully escapes sentient tar, learns to walk on air and then becomes victim to a spiteful, petty and undeserved ageing curse - and all that within a single afternoon! Now transformed into an old man, Harry decides to run away in search of a way to reverse the spell, but the path is precarious and the journey long. As he's trying to make his way through magic and treachery, danger and deceit, it's becoming abundantly clear that something more is hidden behind petty magic - something deeper and more valuable and connected all too thoroughly to what may only be classified as love.

Read it now on AO3.

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Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry. Thank you!

Creator reveals are on 15 June.

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unhetalia · 7 months

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Kiku has known he was in love with Alfred since before World War II, but does nothing beyond acknowledging it to himself.

Whenever he and Alfred spend time together, he basks in the other Nation's warmth. Alfred stays in Japan for weeks at a time, dragging Kiku to places he's forgotten to appreciate in its familiarity. Alfred's awe reminds Kiku of their beauty. Alfred's presence always reminds Kiku of beauty.

Once, Yong Soo and Yao drag him out drinking, and Kiku admits his feelings for America to his siblings. Go for it, Yong Soo encourages. They say you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take.

Kiku shakes his head. Tries to explain to his brothers that even though he is in love with Alfred, he's perfectly happy with his position in the other's life. I love being his best friend too much to want to become his lover.

You can be both, you know, Yao says, but Kiku insists it will be different. He wants exactly what he has with Alfred, no more and no less.

What if he finds someone, and that changes things anyway? Yong Soo challenges.

But Kiku knows that like the sun, Alfred will remain a constant in his life, no matter who else he shines on. Whatever the other Nations say about Alfred's attention span during their meetings, Kiku has seen Alfred's patience playing a particularly hard video game, or during a game of chess. Has seen him read his worn copy of The Great Gatsby and A Midsummer Night's Dream at the same time every year. Has seen the toy soldiers Alfred still owns from childhood. He knows that Alfred does not ever stop loving or caring.

The day Alfred shyly tells him that Arthur has asked him out to dinner – "in an actual restaurant and everything!" – Kiku smiles and tells him how happy he is for him.

It is not a lie.

(Kiku is the first person Alfred calls after his date, excitedly babbling about the movie they'd watched and how Kiku needs to see it too. We should watch it together as well!)

The years will pass and Alfred and Arthur's courtship transforms into a steady relationship. The world changes, like it always does. Regimes rise and fall and fall and rise.

And Alfred still stays in Japan for weeks at a time, reminding Japan of beauty, and letting him bask in his warmth.

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reading-is-an-escape · 9 months

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I haven't cried a single episode since starting My Demon and here I am with tears on both of my eyes goddammit episode 10 is like walking on eggshells 😭😭😭

We can breathe a little now. Even tho for the duration of this episode I cannot feel happy at all. No sugar sweet, no marshmallow, no nothing. Just sad stare, heavy body language, frown, sad face. Mad, obviously, at those 2 troublemakers who thinks they did something good. Tsk tsk tsk.

We've got (some) answers, we've also got another questions:

Can Jin Gayoung just go back to Europe tour and disappear? Her lies, oh girl, your lies I can't take it anymore.

Guwon's dream returns. If she's really Dohee from the past, how would the roulette go this time? What's the story?

The truth about Madam Ju and Dohee parents' death.

What's Noh Seokmin next move? His son obv dead in that explosion, he got no chess piece left to do his bidding, so...

WTF is that, Jun Seokhoon? Siding with the real devil, NSM? Two possibilities: 1) he really switch sides because he wants to "free" Dohee from Guwon's "enchantment" or 2) he did that to gain information from him because they finally knew he is the mastermind behind everything.

Our couple will break up in episode 14. Wonder if they really break up because of certain circumstances, or they just "break up" to lure NSM to do his plan and then they will counter attack.

Will Mr. Park and Ms. Shin be our 2nd couple?

Look, if Goblin and DAYS could make it, MD could too. Have a little faith, trust, and pixie dust, y'all. We might have to cry, angst, anxious, sad, hyperventilating a little along the way, but we'll get there. They will have their happy ending.

Now, onto 2 weeks break. Stay alive, Everyone. I love you, My Demon nation.

#my demon #sbs my demon #my demon netflix #song kang #kim yoo jung #jeong guwon #do dohee #dowon #dowon couple

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eveistdiepommes · 7 months

Note

What activities does Sweden enjoy doing with each of his nordbros? And his sons?

If it wasn’t for this ask, I wouldn’t have gotten to draw the cutest doodles I’ve drawn to this day!! Thank you so much for your ask, Anon!! 😊🫶❤️

I think for Sweden, doing actions comes easier to him than words! Parallel play and quality time is very important to him! Let’s go down the list!!

Iceland- Sweden and Iceland get along amazingly! Like I mentioned, Sweden seems to have a calming effect on Iceland. Iceland can get heated about stuff pretty quickly (his volcanic nature!!) which can lead to outbursts or meltdowns that leave him drained and tired. Because Sweden knows what’s that like, both from personal experience and from experience with his sons, he’s very well suited for grounding Iceland! The important part is that Sweden treats him as an equal, not like a kid, and Iceland really appreciates this (even if he won’t say it outright!) Their activities usually involve critical thinking, video games, chess, stuff like that! Iceland loves the challenge, but he also loves knowing that he doesn’t have to worry about getting too frustrated around Sweden. He can wordlessly count on Sweden to keep him levelheaded!

Norway- Sweden and Norway are very close friends! Norway doesn’t pressure Sweden to talk like others who don’t know him too well might. Their activities very much fall under the term “parallel play!” They don’t have to be doing the exact same thing, but being around each other, not being alone while they do their own activities, makes them both feel happy. Most of their time spent with each other is in quiet environments, hiking nature trails, reading in the same room, going to the library to get books to read in the same room, stuff like that! Though, sometimes Sweden can get a little too absorbed in his activity, in which Norway reminds him to eat or drink some water.

Denmark- Sweden and Denmark are best friends til the end! I believe they get along well more so now than in the past, but their rivalry has never ended! Instead, it’s grown into something they use to push each other to be better! Their activities involve a lot of physical movement or manual labour! They build, craft things, they chop firewood for the other three, and they even spar with each other! Things might still get a little petty, one of them might play a little dirty to “win” at whatever they’re doing, but there’s no genuine malice! Denmark really brings out Sweden’s mischievous nature, as he enjoys messing with his friend, especially when he doesn’t expect it!

Ladonia and Sealand- OKAY OKAY OKAY this is my favorite thing ever! You guys already know I’m a sucker for family dynamics! Sweden spends time with his sons by creating bright and warm memories! He feels so lucky he is able to have kids, to have a family, despite being a “nation.” And he feels so relieved he can give his children a safe and almost normal childhood. Sealand had come into his life with his own bad memories, since he manifested in the midst of WWII. But Sweden is grateful he can protect and guide his son now. Ladonia is younger than Sealand, and thus, he really doesn’t have a scary past. I think Sealand was the last of the nations to manifest and have to deal with that fear so young, but I can explain that in another separate post!! All this to say, Sweden feels honored he can be for his sons what he wish he had as a young nation! He brings them on many excursions, and each one is filled with whimsy and adventure! Sealand, being energetic and rambunctious, loves going anywhere and everywhere! His younger, but taller, brother Ladonia prefers staying indoors due to the nature of his being. But Sweden believes Ladonia needs more fresh air, and Sealand could definitely benefit from getting his energy out, so they do things like fishing! That’s become their favorite thing to do! Ladonia can’t swim, so he wears a life vest in the boat. Sealand helps him put it on and makes sure his younger brother is secure and safe, much to his annoyance! It’s a very precious display, and it makes Sweden’s chest warm! It takes Ladonia a bit to get used to fishing, as he gets nervous catching fish and reeling them in, so to ease him into it, Sealand or Sweden help him catch one and hold it for him to touch. Ladonia eventually holds his own fish and suddenly feels very proud!! After hours of having fun, and with their bellies full from Finland’s home cooked lunch, Ladonia and Sealand fall asleep in Sweden’s truck as he drives them home. And Sweden snaps a picture of how cute they look before carrying them inside, with Finland’s help of course.

I love the doodles I did for this ask so much, so you guys get my favorites without the text!! If you guys want me to post the other two without the text, just let me know!! I’ll try to clean them up a bit!! Sorry this took so long, Anon! I just had so many ideas and I was so excited, I had to calm myself down enough to draw them!!! Thank you for this ask!! It made me so happy to doodle all of these!!

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impactedfates · 1 year

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A Pawn In Chess - Tartaglia x GN!Reader

Summary: A 5 year anniversary for you and your boyfriend, and your gift to him needed to be perfect. Recalling all the happy memories you had together, annoying your friend with how in love you were and perfecting you gift to Childe. But was he truly in love with you in the first place?

Warnings/Extra: Fluff to Angst // My OC is included >:D // As always, slightly ooc Childe probably // Reader lived in Liyue before moving to Snezhnaya // Takes place some time after Sumeru Archon quests, no major spoilers though dw :) // A part 2 might be written.

W.C - 2241

A/N- When I told my friend this was going to be an angst fic, she was quick to not want it…sooo if this gets enough notes I might consider a part 2. I’m actually semi-proud of this fic! :D Some basic info you’ll need to know about the OC I included is that his name is Zakhar and he’s an electro claymore user apart of the Fatui. He was really only added because I didn’t know the personality’s of any other Fatui well enough to write about…(that would fit in the scenario anyways)

"And you're doing this, why?"

Came a tired voice behind you. You turned and your eyes met those of a dark navy. One of your best friends ever since your boyfriend introduced you to his group. Zakhar.

"Because it's our anniversary!"

You replied, sighing and shaking your head at him as if it was common knowledge. Then again, with how lovey dovey you and your boyfriend usually were, you suppose it is common knowledge in the Fatui. You continued to cut up photos in different shapes and sticking them in a mini scrapbook. You were planning to fill a book with all the memories you had with your boyfriend. You absolutely adored him.

You adored Childe.

You adored Tartaglia.

You.Adored.Ajax.

"Doing all this for Lord Tartaglia seems like it'll take awhile...especially with how perfect you want it to be"

Zakhar speaks, moving to stand next to you and look at your work. He was probably one of the first to find out about yours and Ajax's relationship. You rolled your eyes at him as you continued to perfectly and carefully place all the pictures on the current page.

"It's our 5 year anniversary, of course I want to make it perfect"

"I just think that there's no need to be this obsessed with your gift to him"

He shrugs, crossing his arms. You let out a dramatic gasp as you set down the scissors and yet another couple photos you took with Ajax's. Zakhar looks at you amused but lets out a light chuckle. Picking up the photo you set down he studies it for a moment, and before he could even ask anything, you were quick to explain.

"That's when we first met!"

"You took a photo of when you two only just met?"

"Yes, and it was cute okay!"

You reply, snatching the picture out of his hands with a fake pout, you carefully cut it into a heart. Although you may not believe in love at first sight, you can say that's what you felt when you first met him. Of course it took much longer than that for you to develop feelings for him. You can still remember that day clearly, you had just returned from a trip from Fontaine when you met him and you were more than happy to tell your friend all the details.

"Hey, wait up!"

Came a carefree voice. You turn and are met with blue eyes gazing into your own eyes. You raise your eyebrow at him. You studied his appearance a bit, definitely not clothing you'd see in Liyue, perhaps someone visiting? Still you stopped walking and waited for him to run up to you. He stood beside you and grinned at you.

"Thanks comrade, the names Childe. What's your name?"

"Childe? An odd name but...my names [Name]"

Childe held out a hand to you, urging you to take it, you looked curiously at him but took it anyways. There was something up with the man next to you, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“So [Name], fancy hanging out with me for a bit? I’m new to this Nation of Contracts, and~ having such a cutie like yourself being my tour guild would make my stay more bearable no?”

You looked at him for a bit, slightly surprised at the compliment but shrugged it off. You also shrug off that he seemed to be lying about being new to Liyue. Was this his way of flirting?

He stared back and it was clear he was getting nervous after such a long silence.

“Actuallyyy, if you don’t want to you don’t ha-”

“Sure, I have time. But you better make it worth my while”

Childe looked at you for a second then grinned. He pulled out his Kamera and gestured to you to come closer. You looked at him confused and curious, and it seemed he sensed it as he quickly explained he wanted to take a picture to capture this memory.

You laughed softly at the ginger's antics before agreeing, once he took the photo, he handed a copy of the photo to you before running off. Yelling that he’d meet you here the next day at 8.

“That was a cute meeting?”

Zakhar asked judgmentally, looking at you with an almost deadpan expression. He clearly did not find anything about the meeting cute.

“Him failing at flirting and you find that cute?”

You nod matter of factly with a grin, before waving him off. He wasn’t there so how would he know how cute Childes' expression was when he attempted to flirt with you? He wouldn't know how cute it was when his face lit up when you agreed to be his ‘tour guide��.

Zakhar rolled his eyes, his eyes scanned the assortment of photos still around your desk. Ignoring the paper scraps, scissors and stickers also on it. He studied the photos that had yet to be added.

“What’s that one?”

He pointed at a picture of you and Childe. You eyes glanced over at the one he was pointing at and your eyes softened. It was a picture of you and Childe outside a restaurant in Snezhnaya. His arm wrapped around your waist as he grinned at the Kamera, you were covered in his scarf, a bright smile also on your face.

“Our first date, he took me to Snezhnaya and asked me on a date, confessed to me after dinner as well”

“Shouldn’t confessions be before the dinner date?...Wait, wasn't this also after you found out about his actual job?”

“Well…yes actually, it was…but I’ve known Ajax for awhile now that I suppose I didn’t care…and also he confessed before and after the date”

You state a dreamy look in your eyes, ignoring the look on the electro user's face as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Clearly confused at how you were so willing to ignore your boyfriend's occupation. You don’t even notice however, as you recall how the date went.

“[Name]!!”

You turn and see Childe running up to you, you shiver a bit due to the cold and wrap your coat around you more. Smiling at him as he walks over.

He took notice of your shivering and was quick to wrap his scarf around you.

“I’m used to the cold, don’t worry”

He reassured you, before taking your hand and walking with you to a fancy restaurant. You two chatted a bit, and deep down you could tell Childe, or at this point, you knew him as Tartaglia now. He was glad you didn’t seem to care about his status as a Fatui Harbinger.

Though in all honesty, you also wondered how you didn’t figure it out quicker. Especially after finding out what he did in Liyue. Then again you were in Fontaine when it all happened and no one was talking about it when you came back.

Eventually you arrive at the restaurant, and Tartaglia, like the gentleman he is, opened the door for you and even pulled out a chair for you to sit on when you both entered.

The dinner was amazing, and Tartaglia was more than happy to pay, as you two walked out. He walked you home, or atleast to the hotel you were staying at. And as you arrived, he was about to turn and leave. “Wait, Tartaglia”

He turned and hummed in response, you took out your own Kamera and held it up.

“Can we…take a picture?”

He chuckled a bit and walked over, wrapping his arm around your waist and grabbing your Kamera.

“A picture to remember our first date? You’re rather cute aren’t you love?”

He speaks, placing a kiss on your forehead before snapping a picture of the two of you, however you don’t miss the soft voice of his as he mutters.

“I love you”

“Oi…Oi!”

Came a voice that snapped you out of your thoughts. Fingers snapping in front of you also brought your attention back to your friend who’s been trying to gain your attention after you started daydreaming.

Your cheeks flushed embarrassed as you scratched the back of your head with a small smile.

“Sorry-”

“Whatever, are you nearly done now? Childes meeting with the other harbingers should be finished soon, then you can give him your gift”

Zakhar states, crossing his arms, eyeing the remaining pictures. Your eyes widened in surprise and glanced at the clock. He was right, you better finish soon if you wanna meet with Ajax after his meeting. He was bound to be tired.

After a bit of begging you managed to convince Zakhar to help you finish the scrapbook. Once it was completed you hugged the book to yourself and happily walked alongside Zakhar to the Fatui headquarters.

“Did I tell you the day I met Ajax's family?”

“Please stop getting all nostalgic-”

“Well!”

You completely ignored his wishes as you started telling him about the day. How his siblings instantly loved you, his parents took a bit to warm up to you, helping with dinner and the proud face Ajaxs had when he watched you get along with his family.

This was the day you learnt of his real name. He allowed you to call him by Ajax, which should’ve been probably something that’s to be expected when you’re dating someone. Yet you felt so honoured he trusted you enough with said name.

You continued talking about what happened when you stayed with Ajax's family for a week. The crafts you made with his younger siblings, the talks you had with his older siblings and the uneasy tension you had with his parents before they warmed up to you. How you two shared a bed. It was clear you were very in love with Ajax. And it was also clear Zakhar was growing tired of it.

“And then-”

“Shhh”

He put his hand over your mouth to stop you from speaking any more. Using a free hand he rubs his temples and looks at you before gesturing that you’ve arrived. You were so caught up with your retelling of memories you didn’t realise you talked about it all the way to the front door of the Harbingers meeting room.

You patiently waited outside, the scrapbook still hugged to your body as you waited for everyone to file out of the room. As the Harbingers left, some ignored you while others gave you a nod of acknowledgement. Ajax was the last to walk out, wearing his large coat.

“Ajax!”

Your eyes didn’t fail to see how he winced as you called out to him. You weren’t being too loud were you? You shake your head, he was probably tired from the meeting.

You walked up to him and were about to hand over the scrapbook when Ajax glared at you.

“What are you doing here [Name]?”

He asked, his tone differed from his usual carefree ones. And it definitely didn’t escape yours or Zakhars attention.

“I…wanted to see you…it’s our anniversary?”

“Right…our anniversary…”

Ajax speaks, nodding. He seems lost in thought, you were about to speak up when he raised a hand to stop you.

“[Name], I think we should break up”

“...Sorry?”

Ajax looked at you, it was clear to you that he wasn’t joking. Did you do anything to make him want to break up with you? Now that you recall, he was starting to get distant since a week ago.

“I…have no use for you anymore…look, I’m not going to continue dragging this relationship on when I never had any feelings for you…you were simply…”

“A pawn in chess?”

Zakhar asks, raising an eyebrow as he walks over to the two of you, having listened in. Ajax pauses before slowly nodding, going to explain more.

“[Name] was…a key to get information on someone that made enemies with us…”

“And you thought the best way to do that was to pretend you liked them? To act as if you two were a happy couple. I don’t mean to judge Lord Tartaglia but that doesn’t seem like a good reason”

You stood there for a bit, clutching the scrapbook in your hands still as Ajax and Zakhar argued. Your mind was trying to process.

So Ajax just came up to you so he could get information on an enemy of the Fatui?

So Tartaglia only took you on a date to act like he truly loved you, so that you trusted him?

So Childe only brought you to meet with his family to act like he trusted you.

Your lips thinned as you dropped the scrapbook and ran off, gaining the attention of the 2 Fatui members.

“[Na-”

“You have no right to try and call after them now”

Zakhar glared, before running after you. Due to being in the Fatui for a while, he easily caught up to you, finding you crying. And although he wasn’t all too good at comforting someone, he still took you back home and tried his best to calm you down. Taking care of you until you fell asleep.

Meanwhile with Childe, his eyes glanced at the book you dropped, picking it up he flicked through it and felt his heart clench. You made a book filled with the memories you had with him, a book meant to show all the happy times you had with him.

Yet it was only a book of lies now.

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