mmmm high lord katsuki and new attendant reader…
he’s a cold man, with an icy stare and a fiery temper that is set off at the drop of a hat. the high lord katsuki has a reputation for being harsh on his peers and servants alike, though he has enough political sense to keep the peace.
he’s from an important family, born and bred with a silver spoon in his mouth and taught all of the niceties of good society. katsuki has read all of the classics and, in addition to an impressive family home (which he manages along with familial business), he has an extensive library, which he visits frequently.
you are low-born, only granted to opportunity of reading because your father taught you before he passed away. you’d been forced to find work when he passed and, by some stroke of luck, someone in the kitchens was willing to take you in and have you keep inventory for a small monthly salary. reading and writing comes in handy for that.
you consider yourself unlucky, however, at being noticed by katsuki’s first officer and personal attendant, kirishima, who happens to be of common birth with a position that should belong to a noble and thus, outranks you. well, just about everyone our ranks you. it’s him who recommends you for the “promotion” and lands you in katsuki’s personal office in the main house.
“my lord,” he says, stepping into the room with the comfort only a noble could have. “i’ve brought them.”
“who?” katsuki doesn’t raise his head. his voice is low and gravelly.
“the new serving staff, my lord,” he states. “the one from the kitchen inventory.”
katsuki looks up at this, his gaze unimpressed and unyielding. he looks you over for a moment, staring as if to size you up.
oh, he’s beautiful. it’s shameful thing to think of such a harsh man, but it’s the truth. he almost looks like a painting, with hard set eyes and round lips. you’d expected someone frightening, with harsh features and sharp, cutting proportions befitting of a man with rumors like the ones surrounding him. instead, the man who sits before you seems a prince with a slightly colder gaze. you suppose that his beauty is drowned out by the other rumors surrounding him.
“you said they could read?” katsuki snaps.
“yes, my lord,” he responds.
katsuki doesn’t comment on this, instead, he shifts his gaze to you and harshly barks a question.
“you’re willing to work?”
what does that matter? you don’t have much of a choice.
“yes, my lord.”
“very good,” katsuki says. “kirishima, see her to her quarters.”
kirishima excuses himself and you bow deeply and do the same. katsuki’s gaze lingers on you for a moment as you bow. it is so intense that you can almost feel the moment he tears it from you and returns to pouring over the papers in front of him. he does not look up again as you shut the door.
katsuki gives the impression that he is made of stone, stubborn and immovable. you imagine that his peers have trouble convincing him of anything and you briefly wonder, judging by the hard look he’d given you, if you’ll run into the same trouble.
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it's the day before my birthday, and my girlfriend surprised me with an outing to a local bird aviary/botanic gardens in the mountains!!!
this was an absolute delight for me, known bird enjoyer, and i got to have many cute and phenomenal birds perched on my head (which i loved and plushie magolor 'tolerated', on account of it being my birthday). i even got to see a nicobar pigeon, which i had never seen in person before!
they also surprised me with an early birthday present to use at the incredible mountain-top picnic spread my gf planned (😭😭) of this extraordinarily cute kirby themed liquid-glitter cup!!
and of course, in true starflung fashion i injured myself twice
once, not three minutes into the outing when my umbrella (which i only require because i'm allergic to both the sun and sunscreen) bit me, and my gf had to run to reception to get me a bandaid. later, when i just totally fkn stacked it on some loose gravel on a slope and i got the umbrella back by slamming it into the ground, along with my knees and one palm. but not the other palm, which was holding plushie magolor, who touched neither gravel nor dirt and never will while i still breathe!
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sometimes i'm living my life and sometimes i'm hit by the fact that c3 has become so intwined with my very being and in a way it's probably because of how it feels like it has been fully mirroring my journey since the moment i started watching- specifically with the imodna's- in the sense that i feel like i went through a period of so much healing and a bit of hardships, and then this year has been really hard, till it came to a tipping point maybe like a little less than a month from now and now the imodna's are like broken up and doing really bad and i'm like. i.want.to.sob.all.the.damn.time.about.it. but also, do i really want to sob that hard about it or am i just sad cause of life? and the answer is sort of, both, cause sometimes i just want fiction to be okay when real life isn't. Like, yeah, i've been rewatching early campaign with my roommate, and there was so much healing there along with the pain, but now it just feels so sad and broken (which, truly is ok). it's not like, doomed sad, but sad in the "shit. why did it get this level of fucked up?" kinda sad and like, i really really really really want a soft epilogue for the sad little lesbians, but also i very much want a soft epilogue for myself (also a sad little lesbian)
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Scared in bed at night because of a storm? :D
Sampo would spoon you right away, letting you use one of his arms as a plushie that you would hug to your chest, while he mumbles into your hair and goes:
I won't let anything happen to you.
I'm right here. I won't go away.
Hey, can you tell how my pulse is going? It's calm, right? Just focus on my heartbeat.
*smooch* I love you...
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