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murdockparker · 6 months

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Expectations

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: While the honeymoon may be well and over, the new Mrs. Bridgerton has yet to make her presence in the ton since the wedding. Anxious as ever, she listens to her husband and gives it a go.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, reader is not pregnant, reader does not wish to be a mother, illusions to sex but no smut, drinking and drunkenness, fluffy fluff

A/N: Given the setting and time period, not wanting children is rather taboo, I feel. But not everyone wishes to be a mom and that's okay! I hope I did Benedict (and reader!!) justice!

On a far too quiet night in London, candles were beginning to grow short, along with the patience of a newly made missus.

“Must I go tomorrow?” (Y/N) sighed, turning to face her husband in earnest, placing her hairbrush on the vanity.

“And possibly insult Lady Danbury again this season?” Benedict scoffed, looking up from his sketchbook. He had been making good on his earlier promise of the eve, giving his wife a worthwhile portrait. He had already made countless, of course, but this one was to be the best yet. “Darling you cannot keep avoiding her forever."

“Here I thought that was a Bridgerton specialty,” (Y/N) hummed, turning back to her mirror, keen to note Benedict’s crooked smirk in the reflection. “But if you insist that I cut our honeymoon short—”

“You know better than I that our honeymoon is well and over,” Benedict said, suddenly at his wife’s side, hands growing restless on her shoulders. “As much as it pains me to admit, and it does, truly, the rest of the ton is far too eager to make the newest Mrs. Bridgertons acquaintance.”

Kisses were peppered down her neck, just below her ear, warm and sticky enough to halt her thinking. “Life was much easier in the country,” she reminisced fondly. The lady was unsure if the fact her husband was making dutiful work on her skin was clouding her judgment, but her mind yearned for the weeks they had spent in bed, alone and carefree. “No need for this… fodder.”

“Ah to be a woman in the season,” Benedict jested, brushing her hair aside. “But I do think it’s a right idea to go to the soiree. If it makes you feel better, I do believe the duchess is planning to attend.”

(Y/N) groaned, pushing Benedict away. “Just as you begin to seduce your wife you find it fair to mention your younger sister?”

He could only laugh. “I was unaware I was seducing my wife, I merely thought I was helping with her hair.”

“And the fine work on my neck was helpful... how?”

His fingers brushed through her hair again, slowly, deliberately. “Well, considering I was partially to blame for it’s unruliness, I figured I could only offer my services. I fear it came across as unhelpful.”

She fought back a grin. “I will go to Lady Danbury’s soiree,” (Y/N) said, looking Benedict in the eyes through the mirror. “But only if you promise to assist with the rest of my… hair.”

“What kind of a husband would I be if I refused?”

—

The carriage ride was as uneventful as she could have imagined. Not only did she loathe the rocking of the cab, but to not have Benedict’s company across from her—or under her—made the entire ordeal less appealing. Still, she persisted through the boredom and arrived to Danbury House, fashionably on time.

“Mrs. Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury greeted, flicking her cane towards the not-so-new bride. “How lovely you managed to pry yourself from your cottage in the country and rejoin proper society.”

“Lady Danbury,” (Y/N) bowed, smiling as politely as she could. “You think little of me, I would never dare to miss one of your illustrious eves. My mother always spoke fondly of them—as truthful as she decided to be with me, that is.”

“A shame your mother isn’t joining us, those nasty headaches of hers will surely do her in.”

“Father sent for a tea from France,” (Y/N) recalled from her last correspondence with her parents. “I believe it was a recommendation from you, if I am not mistaken?”

“Your parents would do well from listening to me from time to time, I should hope you take the same advice,” Lady Danbury smiled, looking directly at (Y/N), gaze narrowing. “Do enjoy yourself tonight, dear. One tends to forget oneself whilst in a marriage.”

A footman ushered her into the great hall, handfuls of married women of the ton flocked to the walls, drinks already in hand. A few familiar faces flitted her memory as she walked past. Lady Green and Mrs. Harrison, both far too eager to set her up with their respective sons in the last season, smiled kindly as she nodded towards them. Dowager Countess Fairbanks was eagerly replacing her empty glass with another, the loss of Earl Fairbanks was still fresh in the public eye, it seemed. Then, there was Lady Kent, smoking away in the corner, grateful no men were around to stop such nonsense.

“Mrs. Bridgerton! I did not expect to see you here!”

(Y/N) turned to the cheery voice, belonging only to the Duchess Hastings herself.

“Your Grace,” (Y/N) smirked, addressing her sister-in-law properly.

“Daphne,” the duchess corrected, as she had many a time during (Y/N)’s courtship with Benedict. “I must say, I hardly think anyone expected your presence tonight. Surely my brother couldn’t have found it in himself to allow you to escape for the evening easily.”

“I shall spare you the sordid details of my trickery,” (Y/N) said with a murmur, her voice laced with a secret. “Considering they involve your brother and whatever little clothing he possessed.”

“Oh please,” Daphne waved. “You are married, I hardly think it is much to guess you and Benedict have been in such a state thus far.”

“If I may be so honest,” (Y/N) giggled, accepting a flute of a bubbly drink from a server, “he was the one who begged me to attend this evening. I was more of the mind to stay in and continue to enjoy our library here in London.”

“I did not know Benedict’s bachelor lodgings possessed a library.”

“They did not, which is why we purchased a new estate not too far from your Mama’s,” (Y/N) said with a smile. “‘Bachelor no more’, I believe were his exact words when he showed me the deed. It’s quite a lovely place. If I did not prefer the country so much I think I would like to stay here year-round.”

“I expect an invitation for tea sometime, then,” Daphne cooed, clearly overjoyed at her new sister’s happiness. “I assume there’s an adequate number of rooms?”

“Enough for a proper studio for Benedict’s leisure, a modest library for myself, an enchanting dining room and…” Her glass raised to her lips nervously. “I believe that to be all.”

“No nursery, then?”

“You Bridgertons and baby-rearing,” (Y/N) said, nearly sputtering her drink. “I say, you’re already on baby three, is that not correct?”

Daphne nearly radiated with joy at the mere mention of her children—a doting mother in every regard. “Oh yes, number three will be joining us in due time,” her hand grazing over her apparent bump. “But I believe you neglected to answer my question.”

“I think I am in need of far more drink to even entertain the question, dear sister,” (Y/N) downed the rest of her drink, hoping the dim lighting did an adequate job hiding her growing flush.

“Very well,” Daphne conceded, still holding her small bump as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “I believe Kate has begun in the game room if you wish to join me in finding her?”

“Spending my night with my darling new sisters? Without my husband or your brothers to muck up our conversations and vex us? I must say, that might be your best idea yet, Your Grace.

The duchess merely laughed as she led present company into the ballroom—now outfitted with many tables to accommodate the games of the night’s festivities. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by the sheer sight of it all. Wives and widows alike, smoking and drinking over every inch of the transformed ballroom.

“I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to come to many of these things,” she shuddered in awe, leaning closer to Daphne.

“I haven’t,” Daphne said truthfully. “I’m usually back at Clyvedon with my family, it just so happens I’m in town on other business this go around to not ignore Lady Danbury.”

While it was difficult to get the Bridgertons all under one roof—with each new marriage and child that task became even more daunting—the brood did get together recently to celebrate the christening of both Edmund and Belinda. Anthony’s first and Daphne’s second. It wasn’t much of a shock that Daphne shared the news of a third Basset at the christening, either.

“Regardless,” (Y/N) took her place at a game table, sitting beside the duchess. “I’d much appreciate the evening to move swiftly, lest I spend more time away from home than I need.”

“Eager to get back in the bedroom with Benedict?”

The new Viscountess Bridgerton, Kate, spoke up behind the ladies as she took it upon herself to be seated next to her sisters.

“I was thinking more along the lines of his study,” (Y/N) hummed, feeling herself grow warm with honesty. “Perhaps our library? We do have a handful of new rooms to enjoy and christen, I think.”

“I recall making a similar promise to Anthony after our honeymoon,” Kate reminisced, smiling wickedly. “Makes me miss such a time in my marriage.”

“Miss a time?” (Y/N) laughed, accepting a drink from a roaming server. “You and Anthony only have been wed a bit over a year. Surely the flame has not died out?”

“No, no, not died out,” Kate quickly corrected. “It’s just, now with Edmund in our care, our flame has dimmed a bit—exhaustion keeps us both at bay to get at it like we once did.”

“Simon and I had a similar take after Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne chimed in.

“Yet here you are, awaiting your third child in three years,” Kate barked with laughter.

“As you said, sister,” Daphne sipped her lemonade, “it merely dimmed.”

If her face had blanched, the dim lighting of the game room had the entire part of disguising her discomfort at the idea—the mere idea that her want for Benedict could possibly wane.

“Dimmed,” (Y/N) repeated.

“Say, it’s been a few months since your wedding,” Kate noted, “do you and Benedict have plans for children soon? I expect with your new house a nursery is just begging to be filled.”

A polite laugh escaped her lips, humor long forgotten. “We haven’t much discussed the matter of children.”

“Oh, come off it!” Kate admonished. “Surely you and your husband want to aid in the Bridgerton grandchildren numbers? I recall Anthony mentioning an old wager between them on who would have the most children."

“A wager—you’re not serious?”

“Oh, that was merely a jest between brothers, I’m sure,” Daphne said, placing her steady hand on (Y/N)’s. Even in the candlelight, she could tell her newest sister-in-law was having no part in this conversation. “And knowing my brothers, it cannot be held to any regard.”

“Anthony seemed serious enough about it when I was carrying Edmund,” Kate shrugged. “No matter! We are here to play cards, yes?”

It was hard to pay attention to the game at hand—literally. With doubt and endless thoughts swimming through the new Mrs Bridgerton’s head, her glass never emptied and her mind never ceased. She won a sizable amount of money somehow—Daphne mumbled something along the lines of ‘rotten cards’ as she pushed the notes and coins to (Y/N)’s pot.

“You’re sure you do not wish to spend the night here?” Lady Danbury offered much later in the evening, just as nearly every guest had left. Only the Bridgerton ladies remained. “I can have a guest room made up in a blink.”

“Ben will be anxious for my arrival,” (Y/N) slurred, trying to remain upright. “I shan’t keep him waiting.”

“I thought we intercepted enough of her drinks,” Daphne whispered, words only meant for Kate.

“She must have snuck a few on her way to the chamberpot,” the viscountess realized, albeit a bit too late.

“I can handle my drinks just fine,” (Y/N) said, trying to cross her arms. It only took her two attempts. “Honestly, I just want to get home to my husband, thank you.”

“I will ride with her to her estate,” Daphne offered, already getting in (Y/N)’s carriage. “My carriage will follow close behind and I will retreat as soon as I see her enter her home safely.”

“What a good sister you are,” (Y/N) cooed, hand cupping Daphne’s face lovingly. “I wish I had a sister like you.”

“If you remember anything, let it be this, please just write to me in the morning,” Kate sighed, giving up hope on the cause. “Lest you want an angry visit from me tomorrow after you break your fast.”

“Get home safe,” (Y/N) listed, “write to Kate, do not make her angry. I think I got it.”

“Perhaps we should pin a note to her dress?” Lady Danbury laughed.

“I shall tell one of the maids to remind her,” Daphne said. “So she has no excuse.”

“You lot are being awfully nice to me,” (Y/N) said, stepping up into the carriage. The footmen were doing most of the work. “Nicer than I deserve right about now.”

“You’re family,” Kate said simply. “Besides, I reckon we have a part to play on just how much you’ve drank…”

“Quite,” Daphne nodded. (Y/N) began to look rather green. “Lady Danbury, I don’t suppose you have a pot or vase you don’t care much about?”

Wordlessly, a butler came running, holding a rather ornate bowl in his hands. After passing it off to the duchess, (Y/N) took it quickly and held it close to her head.

“Do make sure Mrs. Bridgerton cleans it thoroughly before returning it.”

—

The sunlight hurt.

In all of her years on this planet, the sunlight had never hurt as much as it did in this moment. A errant afternoon in the park, perhaps, leaving her skin a tad bit warm to the touch, but never did it sting like this.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Benedict sighed, walking over to her side of the bed. When had she gotten in bed?

“Unfortunately,” (Y/N) groaned, somehow managing to pull herself up to be seated. Her husband—doting as he was—had a tray of food and a pitcher of water waiting for her. “What’s this?”

“Charcoal,” Benedict tried his best to make it sound appetizing. By the look on his wife’s face, it had failed. “I had Cook mix it with some marmalade on bread to help with the taste. You need to sop up the booze somehow, love.”

“I didn’t drink that much,” (Y/N) lied, knowing full well she couldn’t fool even herself with it.

“I have never seen you in such a state,” Benedict nearly whispered, setting the silver tray on her lap. “I already sent correspondence to Daphne to thank her for insuring you got home safely.”

She took a hesitant bite of the bread. It wasn’t as awful as she imagined. Left much to be desired, sure, but it would do the job.

“I sent to Kate,” Benedict continued. “Told her you would meet her for tea later this week, as you obviously needed your sleep this morning.”

Another bite of the bread managed to go down before she reached for the glass of water in Benedict’s hand. “Thank you for that.”

“I’m still at a loss, however,” Benedict sighed. “What exactly went on at Danbury House?”

“I believe I need far more charcoal bread to entertain that conversation.”

“(Y/N).”

“It was a ladies night,” she chewed, trying her best to swallow her bite. “I cannot share what lewd gossip possibly came from it.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, beginning to wring his wrists mindlessly as he searched for the correct words to say. She hadn’t seen him do it since the day he proposed. Benedict Bridgerton was anxious.

“You said something, last night,” he finally confessed.

“I reckon I said a lot last night,” (Y/N) laughed lightly, polishing off her unfortunate breakfast.

“As I was trying to get you into bed, you kept mumbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense,” Benedict smirked lightly, “most of it made me laugh.”

“Glad to be a never-ending source of your entertainment.”

“You mentioned something about a baby.”

She didn’t dare look up at him.

“A few times, actually,” Benedict said. “Now, I don’t know what came of it, perhaps Daphne’s new addition sparked such an interest or you are with child now but—”

“But you wish for a baby,” (Y/N) finished for him, clasping her hands together. “Soon, yes?”

“What?”

“You purchased a new estate,” her hand motioned to their large bedchamber, “with various new rooms to fill with Bridgerton babies. A nursery already set up by our staff is only just down the hall. It’s only natural you expect that of me, given our honeymoon is over.”

“I bought our new home because my bachelor lodgings had nothing you loved,” Benedict corrected. “You yourself said you wished for an extensive library—I merely acted on those wishes.”

“Everyone expects us to have a baby soon,” (Y/N) groans, head in her hands. “All night I kept getting bombarded with questions and speculations about it! Most of it came from my very own family! Sure, I can handle a bit of gossiping from ladies who have nothing better to talk about, but my new family?”

“I had no idea—”

“It was the sole reason I had no desire to go last eve!” (Y/N) finally shouted, as if she meant to reach the heavens. “I know what is expected of me as a wife but what if—what if I don’t wish for that?”

“You do not wish for children?”

“No!” (Y/N) shook her head. “Well, maybe? Augh! I do not know!”

Benedict’s weight shifted on the bed, having now sat by his wife’s legs. “You do not need to know.”

“Of course I do,” she gasped. “I was raised for two things—to marry a respectable man and to have his respectable babies. One of those things I accomplished without much of a second thought—”

“I’m glad you thought so little about marrying me,” Benedict jested.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“It made you smile, so I think the comment was well worth it.”

It had made her smile, she realized. The near-permanent frown of the morning seemed to have eased away with her husband’s jest.

“Every time someone asked me about it,” (Y/N) finally admitted, “I found another drink to drown myself in. I don’t believe anyone but perhaps Daphne really saw what was happening.”

“Does the idea of children really cause you such anguish?”

“It’s just—we’re so happy now,” (Y/N) took Benedict’s hand in her own. “I don’t want to muck up the joy and elation we have in each other by bringing a baby into the mix so soon.”

“We never really spoke on the topic,” Benedict said. “In our courtship, I mean. Usually a topic such as that one finds its way onto the stage, but somehow we evaded it.”

She held her breath.

“Truth be told, I never really gave children much of a thought, if at all,” Benedict chuckled, “far too interested in other pursuits. But, that’s not to say such a topic hasn’t been on my mind of late.”

“Has it?”

“Well, with my new nieces and nephew running around—crawling, I suppose—it may have sparked interest in me, yes,” Benedict looked directly at his wife. “But, for all intents and purposes, having a child requires two people and if you have any hesitancy in the topic—no matter little or seemingly small—I do not wish to further the endeavor.”

“What if I am never ready?” Her voice was small, the sound nearly dissolving against the down of the bedding.

“Then we will live a perfectly happy life regardless. You with your books and me with my paint,” Benedict squeezed her hand. Full of love, full of support. “More importantly, we will live such a happy life together.”

Perhaps it was the headache, or the pain from the bright morning sun, but (Y/N) felt the tears she had been holding back finally spill down her cheeks. Without even a second thought, Benedict pulled her into his arms and allowed her to cry, rubbing her back with thoughtful circles. He had somehow already moved the tray out of the way, as if he was preparing for a reaction like this. He knew her too well, knew her better than anyone could ever plan to know her. This thought only made her cry harder.

“What did I do to deserve you?” (Y/N) asked no one in particular, sniffling as she tried to compose herself.

“I rather think I should be asking you that,” Benedict said softly, kissing her brow.

“You truly do not care if I never decide to want children?” (Y/N) asked again, needing to hear her husband’s answer one more time.

“You could decide tomorrow and change your mind a hundred times and I will always be in your corner,” Benedict said seriously. “That is what a husband does. That is what I do for you.”

She smiled.

“Although, I will need to take special care in ensuring you do not become with child accidentally—we’ve been lucky thus far, but I do not consider myself much of a betting man…”

“Were the races last week an oversight, then?”

“Ah, but that was a sure thing,” Benedict snuggled her closer, “what was merely a point to best my brother ended up with us having a healthy amount of spending money! More paints and books in our possession. A win-win if I ever saw one.”

“Kate mentioned something last night,” (Y/N) tried her best to look up at Benedict, but his tight embrace made it difficult. “Something about a bet you and Anthony had regarding children?”

“Oh,” his cheeks flushed, “that.”

“So it is true?”

“In the sense we made such a bet? Yes,” Benedict nodded. “But we made that bet years ago—back when the only idea of us having children regarded heirs for the title, never fathoming we’d do it out of love.”

“What did you wager?”

Benedict smiled, finally pulling away from his wife to look at her directly. “Five pounds.”

“That is all?” She nearly shrieked with laughter. “With such a serious bet I truly would have thought you would have put more on the wager.”

“I suppose I am still expected to pay up one day,” Benedict said thoughtfully. “Perhaps I shall gift it to him on Edmund’s eighteenth birthday?”

She smiled at the thought. “I think that would make an excellent present.”

“Because even if we are to have any children,” Benedict continued, “and that is still very much up in the air, surely Anthony and Kate will be constantly going at it to rival my dear Mama for the title of most Bridgerton babes.”

“Giving him a win regardless,” (Y/N) said. “I believe you’re right.”

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel this way about children,” Benedict said, “I never want you to feel as if your voice does not matter. We are equals in this marriage—partners—in every sense of the word.”

“I may one day change my mind,” (Y/N) amended, choosing her words carefully. “But as of right now, I think we’re perfectly suited the way we are.”

“Well suited, indeed,” he agreed, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “But, I do think this morning calls for a bath—as much as I adore your natural musk, my love, I already had the staff begin to warm water up for you.”

She took a moment to sniff herself. She smelled of sick, smoke and booze. How Benedict was not repulsed was beyond her. “Oh. I suppose a bath is… ideal.”

He rose from the plush bed, outstretching his hand for his wife to take.

“A bath for two, I should mention,” he grinned wickedly. A grin she had loved from the minute she met him. A grin that made her feel wanted and safe, all in the same breath.

She took his hand.

#Benedict Bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton x Reader #Bridgerton #Bridgerton x Reader #reader insert #fluff #is this self indulgent? perhaps #I'm very much on the fence about children like reader is #children can be a blessing!! but not everyone wants one #anyway... enjoy!

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actual-changeling · 10 months

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i think it's hard to understand the level of betrayal crowley must have felt, which leads to a lot of assumptions around him easily forgiving aziraphale or not being angry; so let's put ourselves into his position.

imagine: your partner, your best friend, the one person in the world that you love more than anyone else, asks you to change how you look, how you talk, who you are—so you can follow them back to an abusive household that threw you out and told you to never come back.

and they tell you that happy and excited and it's not even a question, it's a "by the way, we're doing that, isn't that great?"

you try to tell them no, it's not, i don't want to go back there, i like who i am now. they hurt me and scarred me for life, and they will do it again.

the person you loves, the person you thought loves you, looks at you and says "but you're bad. don't you want to be good? they can make you good."

come with me, you say. that house doesn't want us, we can have our own, we can build our own home. just the two of us, we don't need them, we're fine the way we are.

"i can change them" they say, as if you didn't try. as if you didn't try to change them first. as if that wasn't the reason they threw you to the wolves.

fuck it, you say. you confess your love anyway because they must know, right? they need to know. "don't leave me" you beg, plead, pray.

"oh," they respond, smiling. "nothing lasts forever."

you try to walk away, they stop you, they make it worse, make it clear they don't understand you like you thought. do they love you or the version of you they created in their head? you can't tell anymore.

"we could have been us," you say. we could have been happy.

you kiss them because you have to, because you will be damned twice over if you lose them without kissing them, because your patience snaps and you think you might die if you don't kiss them right now.

it doesn't change anything. "i forgive you"—for being me? for loving you? for refusing to tear myself apart? for kissing you? it's not like it matters. they're gone. you watch them leave.

would you immediately forgive them if they showed up on your doorstep? or would you be heartbroken and angry? you miss them, you still love them, but FUCK YOU. fuck you for demanding that of me. fuck you for everything you said. FUCK YOU FOR LEAVING.

six thousand years. six thousand years.

it would already be hard to forgive a person you have loved for two years or ten, and it gets worse the longer you know them. six thousand fucking years and aziraphale did that. we know why he did. we know how their story will end, but crowley doesn't.

all crowley has is aziraphale's speech and his face disappearing behind elevator doors. all crowley has is you're the bad guys and come with me and nothing lasts forever and i need you and i forgive you.

love alone does not and cannot fix that. aziraphale took six thousand years of trust and set them on fire with a smile on his face, and i understand the urge to try and find an explanation where he doesn't do that. where everything is secretly fine.

but there isn't.

aziraphale needs to rebuild that trust, he needs to earn it again. and mot importantly, he needs to understand why his words and actions broke it in the first place. but even then—even if crowley is the kindest possible version of himself and aziraphale does everything right—even then crowley would have every single right to say i don't forgive you. i love you and i understand you, we can be together, but i cannot forgive you for that and we both have to live with that now.

they will get their happy ending, i do truly believe that, but it might not be the fairy tale happily ever after you imagine and that's okay. it still counts. it's still good.

let crowley be angry and let them find their way back to each other, even if that path does not include forgiveness.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen

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anarchomitsumi · 3 months

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okay so stl 61 !! this chapter has laid out ujie's worldview: there are those in this world that are liked, accepted, popular, —and those that will always be shunned. only a limited amount of people may be the lucky ones.

and turns out, shima's worldview isn't so different. for him there are those who take, and those whose things are taken away from.

either you are born a shunned monster or the doctor that created it. no nuance is accepted. it's essentially a reaction to being socially shunned, you end up resenting the people you deem guilty of your misfortune so much that you deny them their own depth of being. they are the fortunate, they could never understand your suffering. it's a feeling quite common among teenagers, i think.

if i were to point out something, it'd be that for ujie this classification into fortunate-unfortunate is unmovable. he has no hope of changing his social fate. for shima, however, it isn't set in stone. he's determined to get out of it and get back the things he's been robbed of.

ujie just seems...very bitter about the way he's been treated. when both mitsumi and his unnamed classmate say 'you shouldn't criticize someone who's giving it their all', his eyes just seem to say yeah, but who's gonna empathize with me? no one gives me grace when I'm giving it my all.

he's essentially jealous of the good treatment he thinks shima is getting from their peers. to him, shima's fortune is the cause of his own misfortune.

but along the way he's denied shima any humanity, shima cannot have any depth or trouble in his eyes. i think this is especially easy to see in the ending pannel, after shima confronts him, when he says so that guy is human too — implying he thought before that shima wasn't human because he couldn't understand struggle.

it's a type of ideology that, though an understandable defense mechanism, is very unfair to the people around you.

what specially gets me though, is that ujie tells shima he's ARROGANT for taking the monster role. this is shima, we know he has been behaving against his wishes to please others since he was little. we know he performs to be liked, but despises the attention he gets because they like him for his appearance, his performance, never truly him. when ujie calls him "arrogant", he's implying shima enjoys the empty attention he gets from his peers. and to be told that you enjoy the very thing we know troubles shima the most...i can understand why he got mad.

here's the thing though — ujie understands that the attention shima gets has nothing to do with what he actually does or with who he truly is. he understands it's an empty sort of acceptance, but regardless to ujie it still looks more desirable than his own situation. it might be impersonal but that also means it's unconditional. shima will always be liked because he's attractive.

(to shima though, it's not unconditional at all. he thinks the moment he starts acting truly like himself everybody will despise him)

so yeah. closing thoughts. i think this was truly a beneficial encounter for the both of them. for shima, it helped him get out of his self pity spiral for a bit and acknowledge ujie's point of view. and also he was assertive for a change ! shima exhibiting an emotion that isn't a fake smile or resignated indifference?? what?? i can't believe he actually....got things out of his chest for a change.

and for ujie, i think this has broadened his worldview. he understands know that people as seemingly perfect as shima can indeed struggle as well. the world isn't cleanly divided into Blessed By God and Doomed Forever.

i also hope this helps him get rid of those awful thoughts that he'll never be accepted. if shima is an anomaly, —like he found out today — maybe he can be too. if that little smile in the last pannel is anything to go by, his bitterness might just start to crack :)

#stl 61 #skip to loafer #skip and loafer #sukirofa #HE HE WE ARE SO BACK !

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swiftholic-13 · 4 months

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The Season's Scandal Chapter 4

pairing → Eloise Bridgerton x Female Reader

summary → Y/N is having a heart to heart with Eloise. Her biggest fear might also become her reality.

warnings → none

words → 2.2k

masterpost chapter 3 chapter 5

The following day I woke up early and ordered a servant to get the carriage ready. I was trying to be as fast as possible, so my brother would not see me and could forbid me to leave the house. I immediately went to the Bridgerton House to go visit Eloise.

“What bothers you?” Eloise asked me in a caring tone. Soon after I have arrived she showed me their huge garden. Spending time with the Bridgertons showed me how caring and supportive a family can be. I really wished one day I'd have a family just like them. It was hot and sunny, so it was only natural that we would stay there for the next few hours. Spending time with Eloise was the only thing keeping me sane. The hours went by fast and soon her family left us alone and went back inside. I realized that I could listen to Eloise for hours without ever growing weary. There was nothing she could say that would make me stop hanging on every word from her lips. Sooner than later the sun began to set and we settled down on the grass beneath us, looking at the stars. While I was looking at the sky she was laying on her side facing me. The grass touching my bare arms felt unusual but also liberating. “I cannot stop thinking about returning home, my brother will kill me” I looked over to her and her eyes were reflecting the light of the moon. I could not stop myself from staring. She gently took my hand in hers and interlaced our fingers. This was different feeling now that we were not wearing gloves, more intimate than anything we have ever had. “Then do not” I smiled to myself “I cannot hide here forever, El” She shifted closer to me and placed her other hand on top of mine “He has no right to treat you like that and besides I have 7 siblings, do you really think one more would trouble my mama?” We both chuckled and I managed to relax a bit. I looked down at our intertwined hands. With Eloise I felt safe, I knew I could trust her with everything. “My brother was always my parents´ favorite. No endeavor of mine could ever please them. For a while, this granted me some freedom, but not for long. He was always the perfect child, the perfect Duke. Though he may not relish his position as Duke, he never had to prove himself worthy of their love. I have never been granted such affections by them. They are not incapable of love, just incapable of loving me and still I would not dare to bring shame on this family. My mama sent me away with him, hoping to never see me again”. My voice broke and I could feel her eyes fixated on me as I talked, a compassionate gaze that made me feel warm inside. I blinked a few times trying to prevent the tears from rolling down my face. “I am scared” I whispered barely audible and turned my face towards Eloise locking eyes. She noticed my glassy eyes and a sad frown settled on her face. “That they take the one thing that I truly care about away from me”. Eloise inched closer to me and brushed a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “You are the strongest person I know. I cannot imagine what the life you have endured must be like. You are truly remarkable. Please do not let anyone dictate your actions.” her eyes did not leave mine for a second. Her soft and caring tone made me want to kiss her right away. I wanted to pull her close and taste her lips, even if it would be the last thing I would do, I would die a happy woman. Her tone changed and became a bit more playful. “Besides, would you truly leave me to be a spinster all alone? You cannot allow me to be the sole social disgrace here” I smiled at her and chuckled. Her eyes were still fixated on mine, searching for something. “I like you more like that” she whispered. Trying to hide my blush from her I turned my head again, looking back at the beautiful night sky. My view was good but could never compare to her gorgeous smile.

“You really think you want to be spinsters with me forever, we have not known each other for long” I asked, waiting eagerly for her answer. I was scared to reveal my feelings for her. Society does not let people like me have these feelings, it is scandalous. I had to be careful who to put my trust in. I did not think that Eloise would tell anyone. But the fear of losing her, the only person I cared about, was to big to let my desire ruin it. She meant the world to me. “I feel like I have known you long enough” she answered and instantly made me smile again. I could feel her soft hand caressing mine. The way her thumb moved over the back of my hand made me shiver. She was always so gentle with me. I closed my eyes and enjoyed her touch in peace. It was something rarely granted to me. I knew It was momentary.

Our peaceful silence was soon interrupted by footsteps approaching. Eloise snatched her hand away and we both sat up as quick as possible. I straightened out my hair a bit and Eloise fixed her skirt, like we were just doing other things. The footsteps became louder and a figure passed the bush we were sitting behind. Benedict. “Eloise?” he asked surprised, his eyes wandering from her face to mine and back to hers. “I did not know you were still here” He said in a thoughtful manner looking at me. “I was just escorting Y/N outside, to her carriage” Eloise said and motioned me to follow along. She stood up and held her hand out for me to take. Our eyes never left each other as she helped me up. After a few times looking at Eloise and back at me Benedict understood the situation and smiled to himself. Eloise caught his eye “what?” she asked. “nothing, sister” he smirked and took his turn to leave. After he left we retuned to a rather uncomfortable silence. "You are right, I shall leave” I said looking down at my hands. “It is pretty late indeed” she agreed with me and lead me through the garden, inside the house and out through the hallway towards the gate. We walked outside in an uncomfortable silence. My carriage was already ready and the closer I got to it the worse I felt. I stopped in my movements short before having to enter the carriage. I turned and took her hands in mine once again. “See you tomorrow?” she asked, knowing very well that the chance of it happening was pretty low. My brother would not let me leave the house again, unless for another ball. I took a deep breath and nodded with a sad smile on my face. “tomorrow” I whispered back. She slowly leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on my cheek. I shivered at the contact of her lips on my skin. Luckily no one saw us, except for the carriage driver, which already got extra money from me. She slowly pulled back and let go of my hands, allowing me to enter the carriage. I wish I could just pull her in the carriage along with me and show her how much she means to me. I wish I would not have to leave her now and go back to my house where my angry brother was awaiting me. I took a last look at her as I settled down and she closed the door. The horses started walking and with every step they took the distance between Eloise and me grew. I touched my cheek where her lips have just been a few seconds ago. I smiled to myself. Every second I have spent with Eloise was worth all of what's to come.

————————

Soon after my carriage arrived at our house. A servant helped me out of carriage and walked me to the gate that decorated the entrance of the huge house. When the doors opened I was greeted with the sight of my angry brother. I simply ignored him and handed one of our servants my cape. “You better have a good explanation” he grunted. “No” I simply said and walked past him. “Y/N” a too familiar female voice said. I turned around and looked straight in the face of evil. My mother. I looked at my brother in shock. I expected many things from him but not this. He simply looked away. “Your brother has told me about your behavior” the look of bare disappointment plastered over her face. “I am going to bed” I said simply but she grabbed my arm, pure anger on her face “Where were you?” “promenading through the park” I scoffed. “At this late hour? It is scandalous for a lady to be alone this late, but if I should find out that have been seeing some gentleman I will kill you myself” she scoffed and grabbed my arm tighter. I just rolled my eyes and ripped my arm away from her. “Do not worry mother” I walked up the stairs as fast as possible. “You will not leave this house, you will not go any ball unless it is by my side and if you do not secure an engagement within this season I shall pick a husband for you myself. I will not tolerate this behavior of yours any longer”. I quickly took my left as I felt tears starting to leak from my eyes. I was afraid of this happening. Did my brother really had to bring our mother here? My life was about to get much worse. Now my mother forced me into marriage. I had no chance of escaping her. How would I even get the chance of seeing Eloise now.

My first instinct was to write a letter to her, explaining everything that was happening. I tried not to get to deep into it, a letter could get lost and the last thing I wanted was a scandal being caused by a single letter that I wrote to the girl of my dreams. The following morning, I rushed downstairs and handed the letter to a servant. Before they could walk of, my mother snatched the letter from his hands. “writing letters? To whom?” when I stepped forward, trying to get it back she gave me a knowing look and opened the letter. I grew impatient and felt my anger rising, I had to find another way to contact her. “Dearest Eloise…, who is Eloise?” she asked. “a friend” I replied and tried to get the letter back. Before I could get a hold of it she ripped it apart and the pieces fell to the ground. I looked at her in pure shock. “You are here to secure a marriage, not find friends” she declared and left me alone. I just wished to be a man, I could do whatever I wanted without anybody complaining or telling me what to do. I could just marry Eloise and make a good Life for us. Sadly this was just a dream and would never happen. Before leaving the room, my mother turned back around “you have a few visitors soon, get ready”. My brother was standing at the top of the stairs, watching us, as I tried to calm myself down. He didn´t say a thing as I rushed past him, upstairs, back to my room.

Dancing with possible suitors was bad, but this was much worse. I sat silently next to my mother, while she told the various men about my qualities as housewife and mother. The thought alone of having to give birth to a child made me sick. They smiled at me in a disgusting way that made me want to run away. The whole day I could not stop thinking about Eloise and how much I missed her. Her laugh, the way her eyes were glowing, her scent, her perfect voice, her gorgeous chestnut hair and just her presence. This was torture.

Over the course of the next week my mother did not allow me to attend the next ball and my various attempts of sneaking out failed. She did not let me out of her sight for one second and there was no way of letting Eloise know of everything that was going on. I was slowly losing my sanity. That was until Victor decided to show up, missing me at the latest ball. I was more than grateful to see him and almost jumped into his arms begging him to kidnap me. My countless attempts of getting rid of my mother during his stay failed and even his suggestion of a walk in the park got declined. He could sense the seriousness of this situation even though we were not granted a moment of peace. Before he took his leave he made it very clear that he would like to see me at tonight’s ball. Luckily that was enough to convince my mother to let me go. I had no idea how I could escape her at the ball but only the thought of seeing Eloise again after these long days made me get excited and forget about my fatal situation.

As always I hope you enjoyed this chapter and don't worry it's getting spicier very very soon.

#female reader #wlw #wlw fanfic #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #eloise bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton x you #lesbian #bridgerton x female reader #eloise x reader #queer fanfiction #regency era #wlw x reader

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wolfiesmoon · 10 months

Text

You and the cosmos

megumi x gn!reader

me breaking my "no angst allowed" rule just this once bc i feel sad and i will make you feel sad too 😈nobody's allowed to be happy today

still this is pretty lighthearted for angst since i based it off andromeda andromeda by nayutalien

You could say that you have a huge crush on your classmate, Fushiguro Megumi. He always looks so effortlessly handsome and you can't help but stare at him when his back is turned.

And you're not the only one who's all for getting together with him. Your friends always support you in any way they can and hear you out on your delusions regarding him. You always have so much fun talking about him.

Truly, you feel the most happy when in his presence. And today, you will make a move.

After much convincing from your friends, you settled on placing a confession note under his desk. That'll get him to notice you. All your attempts of approaching him in more subtle ways didn't work out, after all.

You re-read the note for the thousandth time, making sure every word is spelled correctly before slipping it under his desk quickly and walking away as if nothing happened.

'Meet me behind the school next to the oak tree at 5 pm. I have something important to tell you.'

Now you just have to wait.

You might have gotten a little excited and came to the meeting place a whole 30 minutes early. Your friends were already waiting for you there, though. They helped you fix up your hair and helped you recite what you wanted to say, wishing you luck and leaving for club activities.

Oh, it should be about time for him to arrive. You can't believe it took you 20 minutes to properly recite your feelings. You're sort of scared, but also really excited.

You can feel your heart beating in your ears, and you're sure you're properly sweaty right now. It's a rush only someone in love can experience.

You lightly slapped your cheeks, looking at every possible corner he could arrive from and practiced your smile for a bit.

...

He's kind of taking a while, isn't he?

You checked your phone. 5 minutes over 5 pm. He must be busy today, or something. Five minutes isn't a big deal.

You opened your phone camera, making absolutely sure that you look good right now. This is a very important moment that you absolutely cannot mess up by looking strange.

But the minutes kept ticking away, and he still didn't show. Maybe he got asked to help someone clean up or got called to the office by the teacher. You mumbled your script to yourself for the final time.

The wind blowed against your face, making the leaves of the nearby oak tree rustle gently. The setting sun painted everything in a slightly orange hue.

It feels like you've been standing there for an eternity at this point. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other.

Sighing, you checked the time. 26 minutes over 5 pm.

...He's not going to show up, is he?

You knew it. You shouldn't have let your friends convince you to put that stupid note under his desk. You were so stupid for thinking he would even look your way when he talks to you like he does to everyone else. Like you're just another classmate.

It'll be okay. He isn't the type to bring these things up after they happen. You can always keep staring at him from afar. That way, both you and him are happy.

It's not like he's leaving forever. You can still look at him every day.

You slowly walked away from the oak tree, going to your shoe locker and putting on your shoes to head home.

He could have atleast showed up and told you "no". Well, you suppose that you got your answer either way.

You're perfectly okay with him not liking you back. So why are tears running down your face right now?

"Huh...? What's this?" Megumi felt an unfamiliar piece of paper when he reached under his desk the next month. He's looking for a missing science paper and he figured he might have left it under his desk. He took the mystery paper out, inspecting it.

"Meet me behind the school next to the oak tree at 5 pm. I have something important to tell you." he read the note quietly as to not raise attention from anyone in class.

"A confession note...? How long has that been there?" He whispered.

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lets-try-some-writing · 5 months

Text

The Qualities of a Leader

Heatwave struggles with knowing when to be firm as the leader of the Rescue Bots. Optimus gives him a few pointers.

Enjoy my contribution to the Rescue Bots zine! @turbofox-zines

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Heatwave, is something troubling you?” Optimus came to stand beside him, startling Heatwave slightly as the far larger mech came to a stop.

“No Sir.” Heatwave answered simply as he watched his team and their human wards play a few feet away. From what Heatwave could see, they were fighting over what movie they wanted to watch that evening. A ridiculous waste of time in his opinion.

“There is no need to lie. What is concerning you?” Optimus looked down at him, the elder mech’s optics glowing in what could have been concern. Heatwave did not dare assume anything about the Prime, but he answered nonetheless.

“I don’t understand how they do it.” He replied as he gestured toward where Blades and Cody were laughing, the younger of the duo throwing a pillow at the helicopter’s helm. Boulder laughed and Chase chastised them both as Kade and Dani chuckled. Graham was out doing some sort of work, and so there was no one to serve as the mediator between the human young present. It was absolute chaos.

“What do you mean?” The Prime questioned gently, very nearly causing Heatwave to do a double take with how soft Optimus’s voice was. He still half expected Optimus to scream orders like every other soldier or commander Heatwave had the displeasure of meeting. Kindness was surprising.

“How can they sit and play around with the organics under our supervision? We are Rescue Bots, not newspark sitters.” Heatwave answered honestly, agitation lacing his tone as his plating flared in response to the group before him growing more rowdy. Did they forget they were at war? They had duties to fulfill.

“Is their mingling truly a detriment?” Optimus asked with the tone of a patient mentor questioning their ward.

“It wastes time. We could be doing other things, preparing to move out, or even training. But instead, they are… playing games and watching films.” Heatwave attempted to explain while doing his best to not be ruffled by the Prime’s choice of words. He was not a newspark, he did not need to be coddled.

“Heatwave, a soldier cannot always be on watch, nor can a Rescue Bot forever be at the ready. Rest is as essential as skill.” Optimus laid a servo on Heatwave’s shoulder, prompting the firetruck to pause in his brooding to look up in confusion. The Prime offered a kind smile before he continued.

“I have a feeling this is not entirely about the recreational activities of your companions.” The Prime met his gaze kindly, and Heatwave grumbled.

“I just don’t get it. Why do they even bother with these activities? The humans will never understand us, they will never be able to. It's always us who have to make the effort to understand them.” He gestured over to the humans again, his face set into a scowl even as his spark spun in longing. Why did he care about what they were doing? He was their leader. If they weren’t going to be serious, then he had to in their stead.

“We live in dark times, Heatwave. Our world is dead and war rages on all sides. This island is a small safe haven, a place of peace.” Optimus’s voice broke Heatwave from his brooding. He shuffled from pede to pede as the Prime gained a distant look in his optics, one Heatwave saw in Bumblebee too.

“The Rescue Bots may not be on the front lines, but you all feel the pressure of what looms in the future. There is no shame in seeking comfort where it is offered.” Wisdom seemed to emanate from Optimus as he smiled comfortingly, although it did little to ease Heatwave’s discomfort. Despite the way his plating felt too tight for his frame, he sighed and conceded.

“I can’t just go playing games, Sir. I have to lead and keep them in line.” Heatwave admitted softly, trying hard not to let his spark ache as he watched Boulder laugh at Chase tripping over something or other. He hated to admit it, but he wanted to be with them too.

“Yes, you are their leader. However, you are also a fellow Autobot. A leader must know when to be firm and when to mingle with those under his command.” The words registered, but Heatwave paused in uncertainty.

“What are you suggesting?” He questioned his superior officer somewhat hesitantly. Optimus again gained that faraway look before he patted Heatwave on the back in a friendly manner.

“Go and enjoy these moments while they are available. Come the dawn, you will need to bear the burden of leadership again, but for now, you can rest Heatwave. You are a fine leader, and there is no shame in allowing the mantle to fall for a while.” There was something so extremely tired in the way Optimus spoke. It left Heatwave reeling a bit as the Prime continued.

“View it as a team building exercise if you must, but allow yourself a moment to vent. Even the strongest leaders require rest and companionship.” There was wisdom in his words, wisdom that Heatwave had next to no time to process before the Prime wandered off, waving to him as he did so. Heatwave stood there dumbly for a while, his processor thrown into overdrive as he contemplated.

Perhaps… Optimus was right.

“Team building exercise…” Heatwave mumbled as he took a deep vent and stepped closer to his rambunctious team and human wards. They were bickering over a film of some sort. Chase was holding up what looked to admittedly be an incredibly dull documentary, Boulder had a cartoon on DVD that he was advocating for, and Blades was quick to hold up another case with cheap looking monsters on the cover.

“Heatwave! We are going to watch a horror film! Could you sit with me please?” Blades asked timidly as Cody took the film and threw it into the DVD player before anyone else could get a word in. Chase grumbled, Dani pouted, and Kade laughed. Heatwave for his part sighed as Blades looked up at him pleadingly.

“You are a real crybaby sometimes, you know that, Blades?” Dani, ever the jester, prodded playfully from where she had chosen to drape herself on a nearby platform, blankets and pillows galore.

“Horror movies are scary!” The helicopter insisted as the film began to play the opening sequences. Blades jumped as a cheap looking zombie wandered on screen alongside the title of the film, prompting Kade to laugh.

“The blood is all fake, and you can clearly see the editing software effects-” Chase attempted to point out the lack of any real scare factor in the film as Heatwave edged closer subconsciously. The desire to be involved along with the all encompassing urge to stop any fights before they could start had him drawing nearer to the mess of blankets and other soft cushioning strewn about before he knew it.

“Way to ruin the mood.” Cody pouted as he settled down on Chase’s lap. The police car for his part did not react beyond pulling up a blanket for the youngest of their human wards as the movie began to roll.

“Half the fun of horror movies is laughing at the bad effects.” Kade remarked as he too settled in around Boulder’s pedes. The usually brash fireman seemed completely at ease as he snacked on some popcorn.

“Blades has a point, though. The jump scares can be a bit much.” Boulder added before Cody shushed him.

“Enough. I will sit with you Blades.” Heatwave, realizing he was practically wrapped up in the blankets, sat down beside his skittish teammate. There was no point trying to wander off with dignity now. Besides, what could be the harm in staying? Patrols were done and work for the next cycle was already completed. By staying, he could keep an optic on his team and settle his spark’s anxious spin.

“Really?! I didn’t think-” Blades looked up at him with starry optics, to which Heatwave rolled his own in a fond manner.

“Yeah, yeah now be quiet so we can watch this film.” Heatwave grumbled without any true agitation lacing his tone. To the humans he must have sounded as gruff as always, but to his fellows it was quite clear that his glyphs had no true bite.

He was content, and so was his team.

“Thank you, Heatwave.” Blades whispered as the movie began and horribly cheap special effects assaulted their vision. It was such a ridiculous activity, but Heatwave found himself enjoying it all the same. On a planet not their own and in a structure not made by their kind, they were watching a stupid movie and all was right with the world.

Maybe Optimus was right. A little downtime couldn’t hurt. Team building exercises were essential, after all.

“You’re welcome.” Heatwave murmured as he felt himself calm for the first time in weeks. He was safe, and he was home, at least for now.

#rescue bots zine #transformers #maccadam #heatwave #blades #boulder #chase #cody burns #kade burns #dani burns #optimus prime #rescue bots

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genshin-impacted · 1 year

Text

three ways to say goodbye

Never once does Alhaitham ever say the words ‘good-bye.’ (And one time he doesn’t need to.) OR You die in four three different ways; Alhaitham deals with your death differently each time.

Word Count: ~3.5k (one shot)

Notes: Alhaitham x Reader (3+1 fic), gender-neutral reader, Alhaitham POV, major character death(s) (you), ANGST, mainly hurt with comfort at the end, exploratory fic on how Alhaitham deals with grief & death-- his devotion, each part has specific notes

[anticlimatic]

notes: slight description of dead body (you), blood, ambiguous relationship status; implied roommates with Kaveh and Alhaitham, could be ot3 if you squint, mild profanity

Your death came without warning, without rhyme or reason. It doesn't make sense for you to die here, your potential on the brink of being fully realized, your journey cut abruptly before it has even started. As a narrative, your death is almost anticlimactic, unpredictable and hidden away in the forests of Sumeru where the rangers found you, body broken and eyes closed forever. Your wings must have failed you midflight, plummeting you down to the ground without a safety net. If there were any signs of foul play, it is hard to tell; there is so much blood to wash off of you.

Tighnari was the one to set your limbs straight to make you look more comfortable, and Cyno was the one to tell Alhaitham to come and identify your body.

It's only a formality at this point. Cyno and Tighnari-- Alhaitham thinks they would not have let Collei see your body, bruised as it is-- would have been ample identification checks. They know you well, consider you a friend. It may also be a sort of mercy from Cyno to inform Alhaitham of what has happened so he can be one of the first to know, the first to see you.

They know Alhaitham was more important to you than any of them-- Alhaitham included-- could truly understand. So, of course, it is Alhaitham who gets to know first.

Cyno peels back the cover from your head. It must be the least injured part of your body because the only tell-tale sign that you are dead is the stillness of your face. You are the most animated person he knows, even if you aren't aware of it. You constantly move your eyes to see the world for what it is, lips always upturned subconsciously, though Alhaitham can remember the days when you went without for quite some time. It was a trying period for you, but your smile came back eventually, and all felt right in the world.

Alhaitham knows it will not come back this time.

"It's them," he says, though you look far from the person you were when you were still alive. "Where will the body be stored?"

"The Sumeru morgue," Cyno replies. He pauses. "Will you-"

"They have no family. No next of kin." Alhaitham says, "I will arrange their funeral."

Cyno only nods, and Alhaitham watches as he goes to cover your face up with a foreboding sense of dread he cannot place. Cyno does not apologize to Alhaitham for his loss. Neither of them is the type to placate others even in their grief. As for "his" loss? Certainly not just his. You were well loved, a bud in bloom among the vines of the Akademiya with your reputation built from the soil up. Those that knew you will mourn.

Yes, Alhaitham is in mourning, right now, isn't he? Everyone else believes it to be so. Tighnari tells him ‘my condolences' even though his own face is tight with regret, as though he could have single handedly prevented this from happening. He doesn't see Collei but perhaps that is telling enough of her grief. Cyno tells him that he will let Dehya and Candace know, and Alhaitham can only nod in agreement.

Alhaitham thinks he knows the reason for the dread when he comes home and Kaveh is there. His roommate has been pacing around in the living room, Alhaitham can tell. Without either you or Alhaitham present, Kaveh was worried but trying not to think of the worst-case scenario. Alhaitham has to be the one to break the news to him of the worst-case scenario, and he braces himself for the torrent.

If Alhaitham is the person who knows you best, then Kaveh is right behind him. Your death will devastate Kaveh, even if Kaveh does not know it yet.

"You're lying," Kaveh tells him. His face is as impassive as Alhaitham has ever seen. "You're lying to me, and it's not fucking funny-"

"I’m not lying," Alhaitham says. When Kaveh opens his mouth to argue, spit vitriol, call him a liar again, Alhaitham feels his own temper rise, and for a twisted moment, it almost feels familiar, him and Kaveh at each other's throats, except they've never argued over something as serious as this. "I wouldn’t lie about this. And you know it."

Alhaitham expects it to escalate. Kaveh will raise his voice and Alhaitham will too, both of them feeding their animosity into each other like they have never done since their Akademiya days. Even their latest bickering is nothing, and with you added into the mix, it becomes even less than that-- more eye rolls and snarky remarks than anything close to an argument.

But you're gone. So everything is different now, even if no one wants it to be. And when Kaveh's lips begin to tremble, his face falling upon the realization that oh god, Alhaitham is telling the truth, Alhaitham realizes something too. Telling Kaveh about your death was worthy of dread, but the thought that nothing will ever be the same with you gone, makes the foreboding feeling gape and widen.

He will pass by Lambad's Tavern and walk in, expecting you to be there at the third seat of the bar, writing your essay, but you will not. He will sit at the table nearest the window in the House of Daena and read while waiting for you to come and ask him to find a book, but you will not. He will walk home, noise canceling headphones off despite the bustle of the city, because he expects you to come up from behind him, hoping to surprise him for once, but you will never come. He will enter an empty home, quiet and devoid of sound, and instead of being relieved, he will only feel the same heavy dread, knowing you will never come home again.

Alhaitham never said he loved you aloud, and now he never will. Did you know anyways? Without him telling you, did you know that he loved you? Through the way he believed in you, the way he said your name, the times he's helped you, eaten with you, let you sleep on his shoulder and in his bed when you were tired. You knew him best, cherished him more than he could understand. Did you know he loved you like you loved him?

The unspoken questions, the unsaid words. As abrupt your death is, it is permanent, and Alhaitham will have to live life knowing there is an empty space where you once were that will never be filled again.

[stay]

notes: slight description of dead body (you), blood, established relationship

Alhaitham cannot control things that are beyond his abilities to do so. The heavenly principles are far beyond him, beyond even the archons themselves, so it only makes sense that the events that transpire involving them are out of his control.

This upsets him less than most people would think. He's a thinker, calculating each of his steps before implementing them, so it would make sense when he can’t plan out every step of the way. People would be right to an extent, but Alhaitham is logical enough to understand there is no use trying to change something that he cannot. And why waste time being upset over that when he can focus on the things he can control?

Only… he is human, and even he miscalculates. When he thinks of the things within his power to control, he thinks about your happiness, his ability to make you laugh and blush, the ways he can keep you safe. He did not anticipate, as he holds your hands slick from your own blood, that your safety is beyond his control.

"Let me stop the bleeding," Alhaitham tells you, scanning his surroundings for anything he can to help him staunch your wound. You look at him, breathing shallow, his grip not once faltering even as you seem to lose the strength to hold onto him. "Don't fall asleep. Keep looking at me. I'll use my cape for now-"

"Alhaitham."

"I’ll lift your body up," he says, clicking his tongue when his hands slip from under you with the blood. "Tie this around you for now. The Traveler wasn't far from here-"

"Haitham."

"-even Paimon can help carry your legs if you can't walk anymore. I know she can-" Alhaitham stops when you start to push his hands away from your abdomen where the bleeding is most heavy. "What are you doing?"

"Can you," you begin to say, rasping these words as though it is taking every breath to speak, "can you just hold me? Haitham."

Alhaitham shakes his head. "I’ll hold you later.” He tells you, swallowing thickly as you look into his eyes as though searching for something. The next words makes his mouth dry, but he must say it. He must try. “I promise. I have to do this-"

"I can tell I'm not gonna make it."

Alhaitham shifts his legs under him and feels his knees soak in blood.

"Respectfully," Alhaitham says icily, "you may be more well versed with medicine than me, but you aren't at full capacity right now to judge accurately."

You laugh at this. Alhaitham doesn't see how any of this could be funny to you. He doesn't understand you. He never has. But, oh, he wishes he does; wishes he had all the time in the world to get to understand you more.

He feels your hand paw at his wrist, your fingers cold as ice.

You shake your head so slowly, and the smile you give him blooms just as slowly as the Padisarah flower he gave you last week. Your smile is no less beautiful though, no less bright despite it all.

"Maybe." You sigh. "But I’d like for you to hold me anyways. Please?" You say, "I feel so cold."

Alhaitham swallows his protests, because in the end, it is logic that will always win against all else: there is a low percentage that any help will arrive, and Alhaitham cannot do anything to save you.

“Okay,” he says quietly, gathering you up into his arms. Strong as he is, he is so gentle with the way he brings your head to rest against his shoulders, bringing your legs over his lap so he can cradle your body against his to share the warmth. He hears you sigh in relief, though he doubts it’s because you feel any warmer. It is purely comfort that he is providing, until the end.

For the first time since his youth, Alhaitham feels helpless.

“Your eyes are so pretty,” you tell him, words slurring. He lets out a huff of laughter– he feels delirious almost– that is shakier than usual, taking your cold hands and kissing your fingers as though it could bring it some semblance of warmth. “Lots of colors.”

‘Thanks,’ he could say dryly, like he always does. ‘I think I might like yours better,’ he could say; it would get a laugh out of you, and isn’t that what he always wants for you? ‘I love you’ would work too; it always works when it’s you.

Alhaitham opens his mouth to reply, but instead of anything he has planned, he says to you instead with all the desperation in his heart, “Please stay.”

“I love you,” you tell him instead; you always made it sound so easy to say.

In the aftermath, when the dust has settled and those who have not toppled remain, Kaveh finds Alhaitham hours after your death, cradling your body, his face buried into your neck.

[anticipatory]

notes: next two parts have the same back story- you have a leyline curse similar to Dainsleif; some fluff here! established relationship

“How long,” you ask as you lie in bed with him, “do you think I have?”

Alhaitham’s hand stops tracing lines on your back over the curse marks that paint your skin abyss blue. It’s not an unfamiliar question. You ask every once in a while, because you can’t see the progression of the ley line curse on your back, so you rely on him to tell you how far it’s spread.

Based on the growth, which only seems to go faster by the day, Alhaitham calculates you have about another year before it consumes your entire body.

Only six months ago it was invisible to the naked eye. Tonight, the blues spread outward like butterfly wings from the middle of your spine to reach your shoulders. You’ve already stopped wearing sleeveless shirts to cover the marks, but when they go past your neck or onto your hands, it’ll be difficult to justify wearing turtlenecks and gloves all the time while in Sumeru.

“Let’s take a vacation to Shnezhnaya at the end of the year,” Alhaitham says instead. “I have three months worth of sick days and breaks.”

You pause for a moment before letting him guide the conversation away. “Isn’t one of their main cuisines soup dishes? Borscht or something like that.” He hears you say, amused. “You hate soups.”

“It makes it difficult to read,” he explains, tracing lines into your back again. You sigh in contentment as he spreads the expanse of his palm along your shoulders, memorizing the abyssal stars that align along the path he makes. “I can deal with it for a little bit. I can cook something else while we’re there.”

You’re quiet for a little bit, breathing even and steady that Alhaitham thinks you’ve fallen asleep while he was memorizing the dips and curves of your body. You shift when he lifts the blanket up higher over you. He can hear you swallow audibly as though readying yourself to say something, probably to redirect the conversation back to your initial question, he suspects. Before he can say anything, you say with a voice as equally shaky as it is steady, “I’m sorry.”

Alhaitham’s heart stops. “Why are you apologizing?” He asks as calmly as ever when you do not answer, “Because I’ll have to cook on vacation? Not really that an inconvenience, isn’t it? I’m assuming we’ll split the responsibility.”

No answer.

“I wasn’t going to use the vacation dates anyways,” he continues. “And I hardly get sick. Though now that we’re talking about it, three months in one place is a long time. Perhaps we should consider traveling-”

Then he sees you crumble before his eyes, shoulders shaking, face burying into your hands as you start to cry.

Experienced at loving you now, Alhaitham is quick to bring you close. Lucky enough for him, you still melt against him, welcoming his embrace as he coaxes you to turn his way and bury yourself into his nape instead of your hands. He can still hear your apologies mixed between the gasps of air you take, your tears seemingly unending. He holds you steady, voice calm even though his heart is leaping in his chest as it always does when you are upset.

“What’s wrong?” he says, voice hushed. And like every other time you are upset, he asks you, "What can I do to fix it?”

“I don’t-” you say, voice cracking, “I don’t want to leave you.”

“...You don’t know that you will,” Alhaitham says. And it’s true. Neither of you know what will happen for certain. A lone blond traveler with a curse similar to you had passed by and told him of his eventual fate, and you had likened it to your own. But there’s no proof proving the two of you are the same, though it can’t be said that there is no connection between your fates at all.

“How long do you think I have?” You ask again, and he knows he cannot hide it from you any longer.

“A year at most,” he says. Your eyelashes brush by his collarbone when you close your eyes shut. He stops you before your thoughts can even form. “I am not leaving you.” He scoffs and you make a noise of indignation. “Don’t even think about saying something like that.”

“You didn’t let me say anything yet,” he hears you grumble, and he lets a huff of laughter out at the sound of your petulant voice.

“Do you really think I would do something if I didn’t want to?” Alhaitham says dryly, “And what’s the thought process behind me leaving you before you can leave me? I’d love to know.” When you are quiet, he continues softly, “Do you think I am that fragile to fall apart when you are gone?”

“...No,” you say finally. “But I think you underestimate how strongly you feel.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really,” you say, and your voice is light again, as it always is when you talk about how much you love him. “‘Cause I know better. How much you really feel, even if your face is… like that.”

“Like what,” Alhaitham says bluntly. When you only laugh into his shoulder, he can’t help but smile with you.

If Alhaitham could describe it, it feels like the longest goodbye. ‘Live every moment like it’s your last’ becomes the mantra between the two of you, though neither of you has said those exact words out loud. You love in abundance, laugh in abundance, bicker in full as though you are trying to live out the rest of your lives in one year.

The day Alhaitham takes you to the snowy lands of Snezhnaya is sooner than later, the scarves and gloves worn more days than not. As promised, you two do share the cooking duties for those months, getting cozy by the fireplace and learning how to icefish from the locals. He learns how to barter with the merchants there and commissions the two of you rings to wear. Though he never sees you wear it outside, he can always feel the ring when he holds your gloved hands. He thinks you never take it off.

When Alhaitham returns from Snezhnaya, he comes home alone with nothing but a golden band on his ring finger. The people that know him know better than to ask.

[priorities]

notes: connected background as previous but different ending; fluff! established relationship; happy end

Alhaitham has always been the type to stay in the background. People might be inclined to call him the ‘mastermind’ but that’s giving him too much credit considering how much he wants to remain unknown and unperceived. But he supposes having a hand in toppling the heavenly principles and destroying the castle in the sky and being unrecognized is asking for too much.

“You’re an… interesting guy,” you tell him, a few days after the climactic battle which, fortunately, neither of you had to have a large part in. (Well, there was that key role for you… and another for him, but that is neither here nor there.) You snicker into your hand when he shoots you a strange look.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Alhaitham asks, and before he can continue his retort, you are sitting on his lap even though the two of you are supposed to both be on bedrest, in separate beds. Tighnari is going to kill them if he finds them now that he knows neither of you are going to die any time soon.

“It means you’re an interesting guy,” you say. “The first thing you tell me is that you hate involving yourself into tedious things. And then you get yourself into making strategies to take down literal gods, which sounds pretty tedious to me.”

Your smile is beautific when you look at him, your arms finding their way around his neck and legs over his lap. Instinctively, he puts a hand around your back and holds onto your legs so you don’t fall. He takes a peek at your back and sees that the abyssal blue has not moved a single centimeter beyond your shoulder blades. He knows that was what was calculated, but still, he breathes a sigh of relief upon its confirmation.

“I always make a basic list of pros and cons for a plan,” Alhaitham says. “I just deemed overthrowing gods to be less tedious than the alternative outcome.”

“And what could possibly be more tedious than overthrowing a literal god?” You laugh, looking up at him as though he hung the moon and stars. He thinks if he hung the moon and stars, then you must be the one holding up the sun in the sky.

“Losing you,” Alhaitham says simply. “I’d prefer not to imagine a life without you in it, so I made sure that a life with you would happen.”

Alhaitham knows you are smart enough to know what he was going to say, but you seem surprised anyways, eyes wide and tears welling up at his admission. Perhaps some time ago, Alhaitham would not have believed it would have ever been worth upheaving his life for the sake of another person. But Alhaitham has never been one for halves; the moment he decided to have you in his life, then there was no other option for him.

“I love you,” you say, and he thinks overthrowing gods is an easy choice to make if three words is enough to make him feel this happy, if your arms around him is enough to make him content.

He’s said it before, and he’ll say it again– it’s only a matter of priorities. You just happen to be right on top of that list.

#alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham #i think this may be my first genshin angst fic #like the fact some of these parts dont end happily? crazy for me #OFF BRAND i would say #couldnt resist adding a happy part tho :)

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petitelepus · 1 month

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Could you write a Yandere Muichiro (Aged up) x Fem Reader, where she had escaped almost an entire year ago, changing her appearance completely and working a job where she cannot be recognized. But of course, she wouldn't run away forever, and Muichiro finds her, I wonder what would happen after the recapture.

Summary: You escaped from your captor Muichiro exactly one year ago. You crafted yourself a brand new life, but can you ever truly escape?

Warnings: YANDERE, STALKING, EMOTIONAL AND MENTAL MANIPULATION

A/N: Fem!Reader, Adult!Muichiro

It has been a year since that fateful night when Mucihiro, your friend, your lover, your captor, and your stalker had forgotten to lock the door to your room that worked as your prison. You had gotten a chance to escape and you greedily took it.

That night you drew out all your money from your bank accounts and left town with the first train, making sure to use cash so Muichiro wouldn't have been able to track your card's transaction.

You weren't an expert, but you had seen enough movies to know what to do and what to avoid to keep yourself from being caught.

You did everything in your might to avoid your former friend and protect yourself and the new life you had built around you.

You adopted a new name, cut your hair, dyed it, and changed your whole dressing style and even the way you spoke. You were ready to do anything to keep that man from finding you and locking you up ever again.

You were a humble office lady, working quietly in your own little space that you could decorate any way you liked… But to make sure that your interests weren't leaked to social media, you left your workplace as it was, plain and boring.

"Good job today!" Your co-worker smiled as he walked up to your spot.

"Thank you," You nodded, "Job well done, right?"

"Right!" He laughed, "Listen, we're going to go out to drink and wanted to invite you to join us?"

"I-!"

In your previous life, you would have happily taken a chance to let loose and talk with your friends and co-workers, but in this life, you were a loner with no real social life.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to finish this thing…" You shook your head, "Maybe next time?"

"Alright then," The man gave up and left. You watched after him as he joined his friends by the doorway and you sighed before turning to look at your computer again. It was already late and the sun was setting, it was time to go to your apartment.

Yes, it was an apartment, not a home. Home was where the heart was and yours wasn't there. You weren't sure where it was… Maybe it got left behind when you escaped or fell off somewhere along the ride.

Either way, you packed your things and left the office. The walk back home was quiet, except for people walking and talking around you. You blended into the crowd like a ninja, but you didn't feel anywhere near that cool.

You made it to your little apartment complex, took an elevator to your floor, and let yourself into your apartment with the keys. You flicked the lights on as you closed the door and you sighed, leaning against the door and slumping down until you sat on the floor.

Even your apartment was empty, save for the bland couch, bed, TV, and computer. You didn't have the strength or energy to care… But these days made you miss your real home, your friends and your old job.

Hell, you almost missed Muich-!

No! That man locked you into his home and didn't let you go! He claimed that he loved you…

"But who locks up their loved one…" You muttered quietly by yourself…

"A man who knows best."

Your eyes widened and your flight or fight instincts flared as you registered the familiar voice that you thought you had forgotten long ago.

You turned and saw him, Muichiro standing at the corner of your room, looking at you. How you didn't notice him until now? He was always light on his feet, silent as a cat.

"Hello, dear-!" He was greeting you when you grabbed your umbrella from the floor next to you and pointed it at him, "S- Stay away!"

"Dear-!"

"Don't call me that!" You scrambled back until your back hit the wall. You grounded your teeth together, "You don't get to call me that!"

"Please, calm down," The young man smiled, "Put that umbrella down so we can talk."

"H- How did you find me!?" You totally ignored his plead and he sighed, "You were always a stubborn one."

"Answer the damn question!"

"Well… To start with, did you really think you could escape from me?" Muichiro smiled, "The only reason you got this far is because I allowed you to."

"T- That's not true-!"

"I'm always one step ahead of you." He said as he bolted and you yelped, raising your umbrella but as you were about to hit him, he caught the thing easily and threw it across the room, leaving you helpless before him.

"Please don't be afraid," He smiled as he offered his hand to you, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Y- You aren't…?" You asked, your body tense with fear, but he just smiled sweetly at you, "Have I ever raised my hand against you?"

He had not… But he had messed with your head before so you couldn't let your guard down around him.

"Please, let's talk." He said as he moved his hand towards you, but you smacked it away and got up on your own.

"Say what you want and then get the fuck out…!" You hissed and the young man nodded, "Alright. I came to bring you back home."

"I knew it!" You pointed at him accusingly, "Forget it, I'm not coming back!"

"Why?" He seemed honestly confused like he had forgotten that he had locked you into your room and never let you out without him by your side, holding your hand as if it was a sweet gesture but you knew better.

"Why!?" You frowned, "Did you forget what you did to me!?"

"I took care of you and kept you safe?"

"Being locked inside didn't keep me safe but miserable!"

"I see…" Muichiro nodded thoughtfully, "I can see the point in your view. But how has your life been without me?"

"Bette-!" You were saying when you froze, dread creeping up from behind you and stilling you. You felt anxious as you thought back at the last year of your life and it made your heart ache in your chest.

Muichiro saw your reaction and nodded, "I always knew where you were… I've been watching you for quite some time already."

"Y- You knew?" You were shocked, "You knew where I was all this time?"

He nodded, "Yes."

"Wh- why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you wait this long…?"

"I just gave you a taste of how dull your life would be without me in it." Muichiro tilted his head as he looked at you, "You are miserable, aren't you?"

"I- I-!" You couldn't reply, not when you knew that he was right and you hated more than anything admitting to him that he was right, as usual.

"Is life really worth living if you have to be someone you are not?" He asked and anger flared inside you, "It's better than being your prisoner!"

"You were never my prisoner," Muichiro shook his head, "You're an indoor cat, not an outdoor cat. You were safe inside."

"I'm not a cat!" You cried out in frustration, "And you just can't treat me like one!"

"But aren't you tired of living this way?" He sounded genuinely confused, "Running, hiding, and denying yourself from being you?"

"I don't…!" You swallowed, feeling yourself grow desperate, "It's all your fault!"

"I love you, I always have and always will. So I've come to you with a proposition."

"W- what is it?"

"If you come back kindly and peacefully, I will make sure that you can live your life to the fullest with me by your side."

"I'm..!" You swallowed nervously again, trying to find reasons to refuse, "I'm not the person I was back then…!"

"I have changed also," He smiled, "For example, I didn't like how that man spoke so familiarly with you, but did I hurt him? No, I let him go because I know you only have a spot in your heart for me."

"Y- you saw that?" You were truly horrified, but the young man didn't seem to mind it, "As I said, I've been watching you and I've seen how miserable you have been."

"I'm…" You frowned as you felt the heartache in your chest as if a cold hand was squeezing your heart. It left you nearly breathless as you tried to calm yourself down, but you just grew more and more anxious.

"I knew it," Muichiro nodded, "So I've come to you with a proposition."

"Wh- what is it?" You looked at him uncertainly as you frowned, and he smiled so gently you almost forgot how sinister he could actually be when he wanted to, "I love you and never want to be separated from you ever again… And therefore, I'm ready to put this all behind us so we can start anew."

"W- Wha-!?" You were so shocked you felt it in your bones.

"Marry me." He said and he sounded so genuine as he knelt before you and grasped your hand, "Marry me and come back with me and I promise, you can be yourself and we can be together and love each other unconditionally."

"B- But, I-!" You stuttered, your mind feeling like it had been shuffled and your feelings were all over the place. Your mind was a mess and you couldn't tell if you Muichiro was being genuine and if you were actually in danger or not.

That was one of his traits you hated, making you question your own feelings and such…

"I love you." He said as he gently kissed your hand, "Give me a chance and I'll show you truly how much I care for you."

"I…" You swallowed as you succumbed to your feelings, "I love you too."

"That's all I wanted to hear," The man smiled as he got up and pulled a gorgeous diamond ring from his pocket and slipped it onto your left ring finger, making you briefly wonder how he knew your exact ring size?

"Now…" He kissed your forehead, "Let's head back home."

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #yandere #muichiro tokito #reader #fem!reader #writing #my writing #story #my story #mind manipulation #emotional manipulation #manipulation #ENJOY!

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marvelousbuckley · 1 month

Text

Pardon my french!

BuckTommy Positivity Week 2024 - day two

this challenge is so fun, thank you so much @bucktommypositivityweek! and thank you @searching-for-the-moon for the inspiration

Prompt: nicknames and terms of endearment

You can read it on AO3 or down below. Every fic will be posted on AO3 as chapters of the same fic!

-----

“Mon chéri ?”

“No way, it’s how my ex’s mother called him.”

“Ok then, what about mon coeur ?”

“That’s how HE called me.”

“Hard no.”

Evan frowns, wrinkling his nose while he crosses a new line on his list, clipboard steady on his hand like he has been doing this his whole life. How can their friends think it’s annoying? Evan, with a focused face, his cutest than ever.

It’s been five days since the blond man discovered Tommy’s ability to speak French. The pilot knows that, if they had had the possibility to spend every minute of the week together, Evan would have not been able to talk about anything else.

To be fair, Tommy is not the kind of guy who praises himself a lot, nor he is the kind who shows off. But seeing the impact that it had on Evan, he played along the few times they saw each other, for his boyfriend’s pleasure. It started with words now and then, inserting one or two in the middle of a sentence, his smile growing bigger each time it flustered Evan. He played dumb for a while, denying doing it. After that, the next step had been to whispers secret promises in Evan’s ears every time the other man started to fall asleep on his arms, settling him for a night full of dreams, mostly heated ones.

“Je te veux pour toujours.” Was the phrase that he said the most, loving the taste of the last words on his mouth. Pour toujours. Forever. It made Evan shivers even though he didn’t know what it meant.

But now? Now Evan is looking at his list of French pet names, all serious, and Tommy cannot believe his luck. He knows how smitten he his, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t want to hide his feelings anymore, especially since it his Evan that he loves. Evan who changed his whole world, who offered him the sweetest rom-com life he could have wished for.

Him having spend most of the night reading about French language and vocabulary is just another reason for Tommy to loves him.

Tommy’s dating life hadn’t been all bad. He had had serious partners. Not a lot, but few happy ones. Nicolas had been one of them. Three years, a house, hours and hours of movie nights, an introduction to his pals from the army. A clean break-up, more like fading away from each other really, and the need to find something else for both men.

They still called for Christmas, exchanged text for new year and birthdays. Nicolas had been proud of him when Tommy finally come out, even if it never bothered him to be with a closeted Tommy who could not assume his sexuality while on the job, Gerrard and all. Tommy went to Nicolas’ wedding a few years ago, had a great time with old acquaintances, even hooked up with some sexy guy from the other groom side of the family.

So, French was not a trauma for him. And Evan searching for something cute to call him in this language that fascinates the younger man? It is incredibly, stupidly hot.

“The website also suggested mon chou but apparently it means cabbage?” Evan lets himself fall on the couch next to Tommy and sets his head on the older man’s shoulder. The gesture is comforting, with a sense of habit that gets Tommy all smiley and giddy when he thinks about it too much. They’re accustomed to being together, but it is still a joyful feeling to truly experience it. Tommy can’t help himself but shift a little so he can kiss Evan’s head while his eyes perks at the list. Evan is halfway through it, a disappointed look on his face.

“Why is there so many options? We have sweetheart, dear, love, honey, babe… But them? I understand why it’s called the country of love.” Evan sighs and a light laugh leave Tommy’s lips, pushing him to kiss Evan’s head again. His boyfriend’s hair smells like coconut, a new shampoo that makes Tommy crazy. He always loved coconut cake, now all he wants his to devour the man he loves. One of his hands becomes adventurous, coming to play with the edge of his t-shirt, a finger brushing past it to touch Evan’s skin, caress all the way up to his ribs. He feels Evan’s body tense and then relax, leaning for more before his brain takes the controls back and he straighten himself, shooshing and pushing the adventurous hand before he turns back to Tommy who looks at him with a lazy smile.

“What?” The older man asks.

“This is serious Tommy, I need to know how you feels about mon lapin or ma biche.” Tommy’s face talks by itself, a displeased looks taking possession of his eyes.

“No way, it is not happening. You’ll not call me by an actual animal name.” His reaction has Evan chuckles and crosses another line.

“Knew it.”

Tommy rolls his eyes while Evan continues. Mon homme (“which you are”), mon bébé (“I’am a freaking adult!”), petit cul (“I’m not sure if I’m pronouncing it right”), chouchou (“Hell no”), bébou (“that’s it, I’m leaving you”). It is endearing, but it is also starting to annoy him a little. He would rather do something else, something less cute and with a less lot talking. If he thinks about gagging his boyfriend, well, it’s up to him.

After a little longer he finally moves. His hand grabs Evan’s shin and he turns the man towards him firmly. His lips come crushing Evan’s mouth and he’s happy that his boyfriend was still talking because it allows him to slip his tongue in him, kissing the younger man eagerly and with passion. A kiss that has Evan moans and drops the clipboard, his arms quickly wrapped around Tommy’s neck.

The older man deepens the kiss, grips Evan by the hips and lifts him in one motion, which pulls out a laugh from his boyfriend between their lips. Tommy smiles, his mouth still on Evan’s. He carries him all the way to the bedroom where he swings Evan on the bed. The blond moves in a hurry, letting enough room for Tommy to come lay on top of him, his mouth now really close to Evan’s ear.

“What about trésor ?” He ask, a naughty tone in his voice. It makes Evan shivers with anticipation and want, need even.

“Wha-What does it-it means?” Evan replies, as curious as he his aroused.

“Literally, it means treasure.” Tommy answers before he drops a kiss on his neck. “You could translate it to sweetheart but-” He stops again, this time taking time to kiss Evan’s jaws, a trail that goes from his ear to his shin. “I think it means more in French. It means that you are precious to me and that I want to keep you to myself for ever.” His lips finally go and ravish Evan’s mouth, pulling a deep moan out of him.

Yes, Evan thinks while Tommy’s hands start to unbuckle his pants. Trésor is fine.

-----

translation:

- Mon chéri : it is a kind of sweetheart but it's mainly used by old grandma with youngs ones,

- Mon cœur: my heart,

- Je te veux pour toujours : I want you for ever,

- mon lapin : rabbit,

- ma biche : doe,

- mon homme : my man,

- mon bébé : baby,

- petit cul : small ass, but affectionately. yes, we say it, a lot,

- chouchou : this one is not really translatable ???

- bébou : it's a french web reference lmao,

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shadowqueenjude · 4 months

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Eris makes a deal with Keir

for @the-darkestminds

Eris interlaced his hands before him, smiling insouciantly at Keir Darkbringer. Despite technically being Rhysand’s subordinate, Keir had little to no fear of the man, and shockingly, Rhysand had let him stay in power for centuries despite being a despot. Having just learned of his position of power and the second game afoot with Rhysand and the Night Court, Eris set out to figure out why. It seemed that however much Rhysand and his dogs claimed to care for Mor, they hadn’t cared enough to warn her about their deal-making with Keir and himself.

Which left it to Eris to be the compassionate one. Shame; compassion was certainly not his strong suit. There were perhaps only two people in the world he had ever truly been kind to, and one would barely speak to him.

Eris shut out the pain at that thought, focusing instead on the man before him. “Hello, Keir.”

“What is this about,” Keir asked flatly, sitting down at the long table with Eris. They were on neutral ground in the Middle, just feet from the infamous mountain where Amarantha had ruled. Eris gestured towards it. “You know, that’s the place where much of Prythian was trapped and tormented by the dark queen for decades. Seems rather ordinary from here, doesn’t it?”

Keir’s lip twitched. “Quite. But I’m sure all the magic occurred underneath.”

Eris raised one leg onto the table, the picture of the arrogant prince. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Keir? In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Amarantha’s domain was modeled after your own.” Keir’s brown eyes turned dark with rage, and Eris noted his hands fisted against his thighs. “Not my domain,” he hissed. “It was Rhysand’s father who trapped us here. The High Lord is merely continuing the family tradition.”

Eris chuckled. “One would think after fifty years in that place Rhys would be more sympathetic to your plight.”

Keir looked mollified at that, straightening his baby crown over his blonde waves. “Instead he has only cracked down more on us since coming back.”

Eris clucked his tongue sympathetically. “Rhysand got special privileges,” Eris drawled, twisting a golden ring around his finger. “For being Amarantha’s whore, he didn’t suffer as we did. He didn’t need to worry about seeing his mother die right before his eyes, or being impersonated by those creepy Attor, or becoming the nightly entertainment, which typically involved lots of blood and torture. For giving her a little dick every now and then and killing some children, he got away scot-free.”

And Eris knew much of Prythian would never forgive him for it; especially not when Tamlin himself stood against Amarantha for as long as he did. When it was a mere human who freed them all. Eris did not forgive or trust Rhysand, but he supposed he was in no place to judge considering all he had done in his father’s name. He just wished Rhysand would stop acting like such a hero. It made him insufferable.

“Dirty, sniveling bastard,” Keir muttered under his breath.

“Anyhow, I understand your position where even Rhysand cannot. He wasn’t restrained to Under the Mountain like we were. He went there often, yes, but he was free to leave. But now then, Rhysand being a prick doesn’t make you any less of a jackass. Nailing and mailing your daughter to me, Keir? Could you be any more barbaric?” Eris spoke lazily, popping a cork of a champagne bottle as he finished, pouring it generously into a glass he conjured from midair. He then poured another glass to Keir and offered it to him. He didn’t take it.

“She was of no use to me here,” Keir answered coldly.

“No regret about torturing your daughter?” Eris crooned. “Were you hoping I’d accept her still out of pity, perhaps? Surely you knew there’s not a kind bone in my body.” That was true, but preventing Mor from crossing into Autumn territory was one of the greatest kindnesses he could’ve done. Being in Autumn Court territory would have bound her to him forever, and Eris knew she did not wish that at all. Better dead than suffer as his spouse.

“She deliberately disobeyed me and gave herself over to that savage,” Keir snarled, slamming his fists on the table. “This occurred long ago; what is the point of mentioning it now.”

Eris shrugged, tracing a finger across the rim of his glass, toying with Keir. “Well you see, it has always been a lifelong dream of Mor’s to free those girls from the Hewn City. Girls like her who have been trapped in cruel marriages to cruel men. And I can make it happen. I shall, if you wish to make a deal with me.”

“I tire of these games,” Keir snapped. “I already have a deal to be able to access Velaris. Why do I need you?”

Eris smirked. He had Keir right where he wanted him.

“Oh please, Keir, we all know you despise Night Court land, and I wholeheartedly agree,” he purred. “The atmosphere is terrible and the land is barren and who wants to live with all those Illyrian brutes anyway?”

Keir hesitated before he nodded. “True.”

“And as I’m sure you know, I am not merely the general of the Autumn Court armies. I am also lord of the Hestian plains, some of the finest land in Autumn.”

Keir raised an eyebrow, starting to put everything together.

“So, I’ll allow your people to begin to relocate there. But,” Eris raised a hand, interrupting Keir as he was about to speak, “only select citizens of my choice. This is my land, so I get to choose who lives on it. You will, of course, be provided with a fine estate of your own there, and plenty of comforts. Is that not a better deal than the closed city Velaris?”

Keir narrowed his eyes at Eris, considering his offer. “And if I reject your offer?”

Eris shrugged. “You won’t be rejecting it.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

Eris stood up, leaning across the table towards Keir. “There’s a reason you wanted your daughter to marry me so badly,” he murmured. “There’s a reason that after my rejection, you seek me out still. Unfortunately for you, I have discovered it. Why you desire me to be part of your family so.”

For the first time, Keir truly looked afraid. Eris relished that look. “And? What have you found out?” Eris was sure it was meant to sound like a demand, but Keir was far too breathless for his words to sound remotely commanding.

“There aren’t many who delve into the mystical arts,” Eris hummed, not letting his eyes leave Keir’s. “It took…more time than it ought owing to my father’s interference, but I discovered the one you went to before you were trapped under the mountain. And, well, with the right encouragement, the woman was perfectly happy to talk to me.” Eris didn’t elaborate on what he meant by “encouragement,” instead drinking in the scent of Keir’s growing anxiety.

“Your daughter will possess the power of Truth,

She shall attain great success with her strength and youth,

Her spouse shall come from Autumn or Night,

Listen carefully, oh Darkbringer, for she may be your plight,

You’ve been gifted the boon of invincibility,

But such a blessing must always be accompanied by an Achilles heel, silly,

Yours is her. Despair, for you cannot have her killed,

Your destiny by her shall be willed.

Should she marry Autumn’s heir, you shall attain untold amounts of power,

But should she marry an Illyrian, soon not even your servants shall cower,

For Autumn’s son shall be your sword,

But the Night’s son shall be your lord.”

Keir’s skin paled. Eris had recited his prophecy to completion. He knew his darkest secret. He had no cards left to play.

“I don’t think you want this information in the Inner Circle’s hands, do you?” Eris whispered.

Keir’s body swirled with darkness. “I could just kill you and be done with it,” he mused. Eris had to laugh. Powerful though Keir might be, he was no match for a High Lord’s heir, especially not Autumn’s.

Eris let his body encircle itself in flame. “I’d like to see you try. You do know what light and heat does to darkness and cold, don’t you, Keir?”

Keir stayed in a fighting stance for a moment longer before he relaxed. “Fine. I agree to your deal.”

“Swear to it,” Eris insisted. Keir looked murderous, but he grumbled, “I swear.”

Eris watched as black swirls creamed up the inside of Keir’s arm. A matching gold mark formed on Eris’s. He winked at Keir. “Good boy. Pleasure doing business with you.”

Then he winnowed out of the meeting spot before Keir could snarl insults at him.

#acosf deleted scene #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #keir darkbringer #keir acotar #fanfic

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years

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{5} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Wooyoung & Yunho this chapter)

Words: 10,144

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Alright!! Next part time!! I’m honestly really excited for the next part already since I have so much planned ehehehe, but I think this one is a good one, too. I’d love to know any and all theories you guys may have as to what you think may or may not happen next. I hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Mini Masterlist

Two days have passed since you’ve shared that moment with Hongjoong in the garden. Even you can tell that there’s been another shift in your dynamics with them. For now, even if you’re still a little cautious around them, the trust not one hundred percent established, you’re trying.

Seonghwa’s words still echo throughout your mind every now and then, and you know the rest of them have caught glimpses of you thinking about that moment within the eldest’s tailor shop over the past two days. Yet, none of them have pushed you on the matter, nor does it seem like Seonghwa told them anything of your insecurities. A fact of which warms your heart that they would all respect your privacy like that.

They all really aren’t so bad after all. You just aren’t ready to reveal that part of yourself to all of them yet.

Now-a-days, though, you find your mind battling with the more logical side of yourself. Yes, you do want to continue growing to trust them. They’ve done nothing to hurt you, or make you feel like you’re truly trapped here with them since you’ve arrived. Time and time again, they’ve proven that all they want to do is take care of you - to cherish and love you in their own ways - and provide whatever they can in each and every way possible.

Still, you cannot help but to doubt yourself. They are demons, and they did lure you to them one way or another. They did stalk you for quite a period of time, and they have admitted to doing some pretty shady things. Breaking and entering into your apartment, stealing your things, watching you sleep: the list seems to be growing every day.

Should you really be trusting them? Do they even deserve that?

Maybe, or maybe not. You’re still not fully decided, but for now, you’re simply taking things day by day, and seeing how things go. There’s no point in crying over it anymore, and really, making the best out of the situation at hand isn’t hurting anyone. You think you could actually get used to this.

Which is exactly how you find yourself shooting pool that second evening in the game room. The familiar sound of your favourite songs flow through the bluetooth speakers they have set up in the area, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Movement out of the corner of your eyes catches your attention, drawing your gaze to the open doorway that leads into the hall.

“Want some company?” Wooyoung leans against the open doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you with a tender look in his eyes.

You blink. This is the first time he’s asked you if you wanted his presence around instead of simply just inserting himself into your space. A fact which warms your heart more than you care to admit. To say it’s refreshing would be an understatement.

You smile at him. For the first time in what feels like forever, you actually smile at him.

“Sure.”

Wooyoung nearly collapses on the spot. Not only did you just genuinely smile at him, but you also agreed to let him keep you company. He could not be happier right now, and he finds he has to keep his hands from shaking as he takes his first step into the game room.

You, on the other hand, don’t really pay him any mind, opting to finish your round of pool before anything else. The familiar clack of the billiards sinking into the sockets reaches your ears as the final ball is sunk, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

“You’re good at this,” he comments, and you notice him leaning against the back of the couch.

“Thanks,” you reply, digging in the sockets to collect the billiards to start setting up another round. “Do you play?”

“On occasion,” he hums, and you don’t seem to notice the way his fingers dig into the cushion of the couch for support. He’s still attempting to wrap his head around the fact that you’re actually talking to him right now. It’s more than he could have ever hoped for.

Quirking a brow, you’re quick to hand him a cue stick, meeting his gaze in challenge, “show me what you’ve got, demon boy.”

The growl he has to suppress that builds in his chest is nothing short of feral as he grabs the cue stick from your hand, his mind swirling with what exactly he can show you. Your words are dangerous, and if he were given the chance, he’d show you everything that he’s made of. All you’d have to do is ask.

Instead, Wooyoung smirks. “You’re on.”

“No funky demon magic allowed,” you narrow your eyes at him in warning.

He scoffs, almost offended, “I would never.”

“Mmhmm,” you shoot him a skeptical look, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Hand me the triangle.”

“The triangle?” He quirks a brow.

“You know,” you motion vaguely to the object resting beside him on the edge of the couch. “The cue rack.”

“Oh,” he nods, handing it to you in the next moment. “Triangle?”

“Pyramid,” you raise it in the air, the topmost point facing upwards before flipping it so the flat edge is now at the top, “diamond. Whatever you want to call it.”

He laughs, “triangle it is.”

You cannot suppress the amused grin that tugs at your lips as you place the rack onto the table, collecting the balls and lining them up once more, “triangle it is.”

The whole time, Wooyoung watches you with a soft smile on his face. He leans slightly against the pool cue for support as his eyes shine. There seems to be an air of ease about you, and he doesn’t quite understand why, or how it came to be, but he is most certainly not complaining. In fact, he’d say you’ve never looked calmer around him: more relaxed.

Maybe it’s the music playing through the speakers, of which you seem to be subconsciously humming along to. Perhaps it’s whatever that has gone on within the past two days, or that conversation with Seonghwa you seemed to have had. Whatever it is, though, Wooyoung could not be more grateful.

“Last ball, or eight ball?” You look up at him once you’ve set everything up, lifting the rack back off of the table and tossing it onto the couch.

“You choose,” he replies, a soft smile gracing his features.

Well, isn’t he just being extra considerate tonight?

Wooyoung smirks, and you nearly huff in amusement as you notice. You just know that he’s read your thoughts just now. After all, you’re not currently thinking of that void.

“Okay,” you say, grabbing the chalk to coat the tip of the cue once more, “how about a round of last ball and then we can go from there?”

“Sounds good to me,” he nods. Really, he’s just happy to be spending time with you. “You want to break?”

You shake your head, rolling the cue ball over to him from across the table.

“Like I said,” you smirk in challenge, “show me what you’ve got, demon boy.”

Wooyoung grins, hand reaching out to grab the cue ball as he lines up his first shot. Leaning over the table, his eyes glint, loving the feeling of your gaze on him watching his every movement. All he wants to do is impress you, and if he can with this, then he’s convinced that he can do anything.

The resounding clack of the balls being scattered around the table fills the air, a few sinking into the pockets at the side. He’s managed to sink about four, already moving around the table to line up his next shot.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you nod, seemingly impressed. He grins.

“Do you play often?” His voice manages to pull you out of your own thoughts as you watch him angle his next shot. He clicks his tongue as he just misses sinking the ball.

“When I was younger, I used to,” you reply, walking around the table and observing where you want to shoot. “My parents had a table in their basement and I would always play with my sister whenever she had friends over.” A brief pause as a soft smile tugs at your features. “And my dad.”

Wooyoung smiles. You’re finally opening up to him! So, this is what it feels like to have your full and undivided attention on him after so long. A feeling he wouldn’t trade for the world as he rests once more against the back of the couch.

You make your shot, managing to sink two balls at once.

“I was always the player they never expected,” you smirk.

The familiar beat of one of your favourite songs starts to play through the speakers, giving you a boost of confidence. Leaning back over the table, you line up your next shot, nodding your head along to the music. On a particular note, you make your shot, the echoing clack resonating with the track playing in the background as you sink another billiard.

“I feel like I should be worried, then,” he chuckles, grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Nah,” you shrug, cursing under your breath as you miss your next shot. “It’s usually all just luck.”

Wooyoung pushes himself off of the couch, moving closer to the table as his eyes scan over the top to determine which play he wants to make next.

“Stop being so humble,” he replies, leaning over and lining up his cue. A quick flick of his arm and he’s sinking another billiard. “If you have the skill, own it.”

Your protest dies in your throat at the way he quirks a brow at you. The way you avert your gaze, somewhat shyly, has his heart soaring in his chest. Finally, he’s done something right.

“And if you want something,” he meets your gaze once more, smirk dancing on his features. “Take it.”

Your eyebrows raise in mild surprise, a look of discontent taking over your features. “You mean like how you stole my panties?”

Wooyoung at least has the decency to freeze for a moment as he lines up his next shot. That is, until he’s raising his head to meet your gaze with a cheeky grin on his face, his mind flashing to where he’s safely stored the pair in his room. “Exactly.”

You snort out a laugh, rolling your eyes in the next moment. “I guess that’s where we differ.”

He glances up at you again briefly as he makes his next shot, sinking another ball. In an instant, he’s setting up another shot, the billiards getting fewer and fewer as each minute passes by.

“I’m more of the mindset of when you want something,” a dangerous smirk tugs slowly at the corner of your lips as you lean against his vacated spot on the back of the couch, “all you need to do is ask.”

Wooyoung’s shot barely even hits the cue ball, the stick grazing it as he loses his grip momentarily. His mind is far too consumed by what you’ve just told him to focus on anything for the moment, thoughts swirling with the vast implications behind your words.

Your face lights up, noticing the cue ball didn’t hit any of the other billiards. “Sweet, free ball!”

Taking a step forward and grabbing the ball from the table, you move to set it where you want to now. You’re hyper aware of how his gaze has darkened, eyes fixed on your form as you bend over the table to line up your next shot.

“Stop staring at my ass.” You huff, and immediately the gaze you felt practically burning a hole into your back lessons.

You straighten after sinking another ball, turning to look at him from over your shoulder. He seems to be looking around innocently, but it’s the death grip that he has on the cue stick that gives him away.

You huff out a laugh, “you look tense.”

“Oh, do I?” He hums, feigning innocence as he meets your gaze. Only, in the next second, he sees you leaning back over the table. This time, you’re facing him, and your shirt just so happens to fall open the slightest bit. He hisses through his teeth. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Am I?” You quirk a brow, righting yourself after you make another shot, managing to sink two more balls. There’s only two left at this point, and with the angle they’re at, even though it will be difficult, you believe you can make the shot.

“I thought you said no cheating.” He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest after he leans the cue stick against the couch beside him.

“No, I said you couldn’t use any funky demon magic to help you win,” you grin, lining up your next shot carefully. Exhaling a low breath, you make the shot, sinking the final two balls with a self-satisfied smile on your face. You turn to meet his gaze, eyes flashing with mischief. “I never said I couldn’t be a shark.”

His eyes narrow, impressed. “Touché.”

You giggle, and fuck, if it isn’t the most beautiful sound Wooyoung has ever heard in his life. The only thing he knows would sound sweeter would be his own name falling from your lips in a whimper as he makes you come for him over, and over, and over again.

Your voice calling out to him manages to pull him from his much too vivid thoughts of claiming you right up against this pool table like he’s always desired.

“How about we make the next round more interesting?” You quirk a brow, already having gathered most of the billiards form the sockets at the one end of the table.

“You’re on.” He smirks. “What do you have in mind?”

Of course, he’ll let you set your own terms and conditions. The last thing he wants is for you to change your mind and kick him out after he’s finally getting to spend some more time with you. It was agony watching each of his brothers slowly get closer to you while he practically sat in the shadows, watching and waiting for the prime opportunity to bond with you. He most certainly doesn’t want to scare you off again.

“Hmm,” you hum, tapping at your lips with your one finger in contemplation as you think. Lips which he longs to feel pressed against his skin in the most intimate of ways. “How about the winner gets to call in a favour from the loser at some point?”

“What type of favour?” Wooyoung’s heart nearly begins to beat right out of his chest in anticipation, excitement lingering in his voice.

“Anything within reason.” You reply, only for your eyes to narrow at him in the next moment. “Nothing sexual, obviously.”

Wooyoung places a hand over his chest in mock offence, “I would never.”

“Mmhmm,” you look at him skeptically as you move over to grab the cue rack from the couch. “Sure.”

He simply smiles innocently back at you, grabbing the cue stick he’s left resting beside him back into his hands. In the next moment, he’s pushing himself off of the back of the couch, watching as you finish setting up the next round.

“Eight ball this time,” you say, lifting the cue rack off of the table and tossing it back onto the sofa. You meet his gaze with a smug look adorning your features. “Winner takes all.”

Wooyoung smirks, a pleasant shiver running down his spine as he notices you looking at him like that. A look of which he could get used to seeing on your features. “You’re on.”

Moving back around the table, the cue ball rests in your hand. In an instant, you’re lining up your first shot, leaning over the table with that air of confidence he’s come to notice lingering around you since he first saw you playing merely thirty minutes ago.

“Winner breaks,” you say, your shot resounding around the room in the next moment and seemingly echoing your words.

Already, three of the billiards sink into opposite sockets, the first to be sunk being a stripped ball. Looks like those are the ones that you’re going to be shooting this round. You nod to yourself, already moving around the table to line up your next shot.

The whole time, Wooyoung watches you with a heated gaze. There’s just something about watching you like this - the way he can practically see the passion dripping off of your determined form - that has a pleasant shiver crawling up his spine. In the back of his mind, he wonders if you’ll extend that same passion to him some day.

His mind starts to wander. Is this what you would be like with your lover? Would your movements be just as precise, just as confident when you know exactly what you want from him, unafraid to take it all? Everything he is, everything he has to offer, is yours. He only hopes that someday he can say the same for you about him.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face draws him out of his much too loud thoughts, coming back to reality with a few blinks of his eyes.

“You okay there?” You joke, a chuckle falling from your lips.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung clears his throat. It’s been a while since he’s zoned out like that. Though, he supposes that’s just the effect you have on him. He smiles. “More than okay.”

“Anyways,” you say, a raise to your brows as you turn away from him. “It’s your turn.”

He blinks, a subtle nod to his head as he pushes himself off of the back of the couch. Honestly, he’s surprised you didn’t just continue shooting even after you missed considering he was that out of it. Then again, from the looks of things, you only have a few more balls to sink anyways.

Stepping up to the table, Wooyoung decides to up his game. No more taking it easy on you. The winning offer is far too tempting for him. Besides, his mind is already reeling with what he could request of you.

Perhaps he can ask you to watch a movie with him where it’s finally just the two of you. Alone. He could wrap you in his arms and hold you close, burying his face into the side of your neck as he leans into you, or you into him. It might be a little too wishful thinking at this point, even for him, but he can’t help but to imagine trailing kisses over the skin of your neck, echoes of your soft giggles ringing in his ears as he does so.

Or maybe, he could take you out on a date. You have been stuck in the house for quite a while, so he’s sure that he can make you even happier if he took you out somewhere. The only problem is, he doesn’t quite know where he would take you. There’s far too many places he wants to show you, spots that are completely his own that not even his brothers have been to yet. You, on the other hand, would be welcome at any time.

Then, the perfect idea strikes him as he goes to line up his fifth shot. He’ll ask you to watch him dance. Finally, after waiting so long to be able to show you his own passion, his thoughts and feelings, his desire for you, he’d be able to. Maybe then he could finally impress you in the way he wants to most. Maybe then you’ll understand how much you truly mean to him.

Indulging in these fantasies now seems to be his downfall as he misses what would have been his second to last shot.

He clicks his tongue, cursing under his breath as he pulls away from the table. Yet, when he looks over at you, he already sees you observing him carefully. He meets your gaze, and what he sees hiding behind your eyes has his breath hitching in his throat. His heart races in his chest.

You’re looking at him with mild surprise on your features, but hidden within your gaze, he can see how impressed you truly are.

Wooyoung has to suppress the pleased growl that wants to escape him at seeing you looking at him like this. Unfortunately for him though, it seems as if you’ve started thinking of that damned void again, blocking your thoughts from being easily accessed. Still, he cannot deny the way he absolutely revels in your gaze.

Finally, after what feels like years, you’re looking at him. Actually, truly looking at him. He only hopes that you like what you see staring back, for he’s always known that he’s liked you from the very first moment he laid his eyes on you.

Shaking your head, you seemingly snap yourself out of your own thoughts. Your grip on the cue stick in your hands tightens as you step up to the table once more. There are only three more billiards you need to sink to win, including the eight ball, while Wooyoung only has two. Really, it’s now of never.

Deciding to play the safe route, you line up to sink your last shots one by one. Slowly, the resounding clack of the billiards sinking into their respective sockets echoes around the room until you only have the eight ball left to sink. It’s a bit of a difficult shot, but you think you can make it.

“Top left,” you call, motioning to the aforementioned pocket with the tip of your pool cue.

Wooyoung quirks a brow in acknowledgment, the corner of his lips twitching upwards as well. His arms cross in front of his chest once more, his own cue tucked into the crook of his elbow.

It’s a bit of a weird feeling - odd, and unexpected - having someone brush up against your mind with their own. Almost as if a hand is reaching out to gently caress the inside of your skull, like a cat rubbing up against your leg. Only, you can picture clearly the way the black surface of your envisioned void ripples beneath the touch, and you just know that he has something to do with it. Especially when you glance up to see his eyes so focussed on you.

The sensation distracts you so much that you end up missing your shot.

“You did that on purpose.” You frown, standing back up to your full height as you narrow your eyes at him.

“Did I?” He hums, amused, as he steps up to the table to quickly make his second last shot. Once the billiard has sunk, he’s pointing to one of the corner pockets. “Bottom right.”

Your gaze is fierce as you watch him, jaw clenched at how he dared to distract you during your last shot just so he could win. Seems like someone really wants that favour.

Well, two can play at this game.

Luck seems to be on your side, too, for one of your favourite Taemin songs, Press Your Number, is playing through the speakers right at this very moment. The envisioned dance alone is enough to make you smirk.

It happens so quickly, that by the time Wooyoung pulls his arm back to make the shot, he ends up shooting wide, the cue ball just hitting the eight ball enough to practically give you an easy winning shot.

The growl that escapes his lips is nothing short of feral as he watches you quickly step up to the table across from him and line up your shot. That damned dance is still playing through your mind, along with your subtle mental praises and reactions for the man that is sensually moving his hips in time with the beat.

“Middle left,” you motion to the pocket with a jerk of your chin.

The resounding clack of the eight ball sinking into the pocket echoes throughout the room.

You grin. “I win.”

Wooyoung has half the mind to ask for a rematch this very instant, but the majority of his thoughts are consumed by the fact that you purposefully opened your thoughts back up to his only to throw your praises and affection towards someone else. That fucking dancer, no less. Really, this is worse than what San and Mingi went through the other week with you, because at least that didn’t feel pointed. At least what you thought before didn’t hurt.

“You did that on purpose,” he scowls, eyes swirling with that all too familiar blackness.

“Whatever do you mean?” You smile innocently at him, blinking a few times as you tilt your head. “I was simply enjoying the music.”

Oh, you were enjoying it, alright. Still are, in fact, the ending notes of the song resounding throughout the room.

Wooyoung has to suppress another growl that builds in his throat.

“Looks like you owe me a favour,” you chuckle, placing your cue stick back onto the holder on the side wall.

In the blink of an eye, he’s behind you, reaching over and placing his own cue back onto the holder beside yours. You can practically feel his breath on your neck as he leans into you, voice low right by your ear. “What’ll it be, gorgeous?”

Even though he knows you said the favour wouldn’t be anything sexual, Wooyoung cannot help but hold onto a hope that you’ll change your mind. After all, he’d do anything for you, and if he can start by taking your thoughts off of the way Taemin can move his hips, and have you thinking about his own instead, he will. In a heartbeat.

“Oh, no,” you turn around to face him, a smirk dancing along your lips. “I think I’ll save this one for later.”

The suggestive undertone of your words does not go unnoticed by him, especially when you place a hand onto his chest. Even if it’s just a simple brush of your fingers to get him to step away from you, Wooyoung cannot deny the way his skin tingles beneath your touch. Only now, he craves more.

“Whenever you want me, I’ll be there,” his voice rumbles out, low with the rawness of his words.

You cannot suppress the shiver that runs down your spine at the implications behind what he’s just told you. You swallow, glad you’ve started thinking about your void again so he cannot hear your much too loud thoughts echoing around your mind about just how you may or may not want him in the future. However, seeing the smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips, you’re not so sure that it’s worked.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he’s backing away from you, his demeanour doing a full one-eighty as a bright smile pulls onto his lips.

“So,” he begins, “wanna play Mario Kart?”

Your lips part ever so slightly, caught off guard. That is, until a grin of your own is pulling onto your features. “You’re on.”

The next few hours are spent absolutely demolishing Wooyoung’s ass in Mario Kart, and even Smash Bros soon after. Both San and Yeosang join you at some point, entering in on your Battle Royale only to both be severely defeated by you. That is, until you decide to play teams, of which both you and Yeosang manage to crush San and Wooyoung.

It happens so naturally, that each male thinks it’s almost subconscious on your part, but after winning a particularly tense round with Yeosang, you give him a high five. The smile that paints your features is nothing short of breathtaking, and each male cannot help the way that their hearts race in their chests. Yeosang, though, could feel his hand tingling for the next forty minutes after you had touched him, and neither San’s, nor Wooyoung’s jealous glares could bring him down.

Eventually, Mingi came to join you for a few rounds, but he opted to simply observe the games rather than play for the moment. That is, until you tapped out for the evening, stating that you were getting too tired to continue.

Then, you do something completely unexpected. You wish them all a good night.

Yeosang is the first to snap himself out of his shock, returning your soft smile with a gentle one of his own, and bidding you a good night. Then, it’s both Mingi and Wooyoung who tell you to sleep well, while San mumbles an almost breathless ‘night’ as a loving smile tugs at his own lips.

Each male is revelling in the fact that they were all able to spend time with you, laughing and joking while playing games together. It all felt so natural, too. A type of ease settling over all of you as you slowly but surely opened yourself up to them in this way. A fact which none of them could be happier about.

Now, if only everyday were like this one.

Making it back to your room, you settle in for the evening. That same smile graces your features as you get ready for bed, feeling the most relaxed that you have been in a while. Letting go and having fun really worked in your favour tonight, and in the back of your mind, you can almost picture your future with them, with many more nights like this to come.

Tucking yourself beneath the blankets, you allow yourself to ease further into your pillows. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes.

Yeah. You could get used to this.

A thought that, in your tired state, echoes through all of their minds, causing smiles to pull at all of their faces.

Finally, they’re making progress. Well, all seemingly except for one.

The next morning, you end up sleeping in a bit longer than usual. A fact which you know is due to how calm you’re starting to feel while continuously staying inside this house with them. Though, there is a part of you that wishes to go out, and soon at that. The last thing you want is to only be allowed around inside the house. You could really use some fresh air.

Which is exactly why when Yunho offers to take you out of the house for the day, you accept.

The silence that had settled over the kitchen when he walked in to see you sitting at the counter and conversing softly with San and Jongho was nerve wracking to say the least. That was, until you gave a gentle nod in his direction, acknowledging his presence.

Yunho was over the moon at that. At least you weren’t ignoring him, even if you immediately started thinking about that damned void stronger than before. He posed the question before either of his two brothers could open their mouths, given that you seemed to be hinting at wanting to get out of the house. Besides, Yunho has been planning a special day trip for the both of you for a while. This was simply the opportunity he had been waiting for.

The seven seconds it took for you to give him an answer felt like an eternity. Here he was, extending a hand out to you to spend some time with him, of which you could readily deny in a heartbeat. In front of his brothers, no less. Brothers which you seem to be slowly getting closer to day by day.

To say he was a little nervous would have been a huge understatement. Especially when he couldn’t read your thoughts to gage what you were thinking.

Which is why when that confirmation left your lips, somewhat hesitant but eager at the same time, Yunho felt like his heart was about to burst right out of his chest. The fact that a soft smile was tugging onto your features made it all the more special to him.

Finally, he could spend the day with you and prove to you just how well he can treat you. He just hopes you enjoy what he has planned.

“Just let me grab my jacket,” hopping off of the stool, you’re quick to exit the kitchen, a much too eager spring to your step.

San chuckles, clapping Yunho on the shoulder, “good luck, brother.”

Jongho sends him a reassuring smile as Yunho nods, following in your footsteps mere moments afterwards. He decides he’ll wait for you in the foyer since that’s where you’ll probably go after grabbing your jacket.

Sure enough, not even a minute later, you’re walking out of the hallway and towards him. That giddiness is still visible in your step, but there’s also a hint of caution. A fact which squeezes his heart uncomfortably as you approach him.

“Ready to go?” He asks, extending his arm out for you to take.

You nod, but don’t move to grab his arm. Instead, you opt to eye him warily. “Where, exactly, are you taking me?”

Yunho smiles. “You’ll see.”

He can still sense the hesitation and uncertainty radiating off of you, and it pains him to know that you only feel this way around him still. Hopefully, by the end of the day, you won’t. Yunho will do anything and everything to prove himself to you, and he only wants the best for you. If only you’ll let him.

“How about this, if you want to come right back, we can.” He says, a slight grimace to his words. “I have a feeling you’re going to like it, though. I just want it to be a surprise.”

“You know, you guys are all really fifty-fifty with your surprises for me right now,” you huff out a laugh in amusement, taking a cautious step towards him. “I just hope you’re right.”

Without another word, you place your hand gently onto his extended forearm, and fuck, does he ever revel in your touch. Yeosang wasn’t kidding when he told Yunho that the feeling of your fingers against his skin, even if separated by the barrier of clothing, feels as if his entire body has come alight. His flesh has been set ablaze, tingling wherever your body brushes against his own. It makes him feel alive. A feeling he hasn’t felt in years.

Yunho has to suppress the pleased growl that tugs at his lips as he transports the two of you to their stables. You stumble a bit when your feet touch ground again, still not used to teleporting just yet, but luckily, Yunho is right there to steady you. The gentle smile he sends your way as you right yourself has you averting your gaze almost shyly.

It is then that you fully take in your surroundings.

A furrow creases you brow as the sound of horses whining reaches your ears, a gentle breeze drifting through the stables as you look around.

“Horses?” Your brow quirks, turning to meet his gaze once more as he watches you with a fond look in his eyes.

Yunho nods, and he knows for a fact that you’re doing your best not to look too excited right now. A fact which warms his heart more than you’ll ever know.

“Come,” Yunho motions to a stall with his head. “There’s someone who’s been dying to meet you.”

“Meet me?” You echo, stepping in beside Yunho as he unlocks the gate to the one stall, pushing it open in the next second.

As soon as the door opens, a beautiful dark brown horse with a white diamond on his forehead shakes his head, stepping forward to greet you. Instantly, your hands are up, grasping the holster around his face, cooing at the animal as he nuzzles his snout into your hand.

“Hello there,” you chuckle, stroking down the side of the horse’s neck. “Aren’t you a handsome fella.”

Yunho smiles, engraining this moment into his memories for years to come. “His name is Brego.”

You freeze, turning to look at Yunho momentarily. “You mean…“

“Yes,” the fond smile is still on his face as he meets your gaze. “Exactly like that one.” A brief pause. “He’s yours if you’ll have him.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you turn back to the horse in front of you who continues to nuzzle his snout against you affectionately. You smile, nodding almost subconsciously as you continue to brush your hand along his neck, staring deeply into the horse’s eyes.

“Did you-“ you attempt to form your thoughts into words, but it seems as if Yunho is one step ahead.

“We all did.” He steps beside you cautiously, brushing his hand down the opposite side of Brego’s neck. You don’t move away. “We figured if we all had one, then you should as well.”

“You all own horses?” You quirk a brow, attention shifting onto the male beside you.

“Any type of animal you can think of, we’ve owned at some point in our lives.” Yunho shrugs. “Though Yeosang and Seonghwa are always the best at dealing with them.”

“Animals trust them more, or something?” You joke, allowing Yunho to guide Brego out of the stall and into the main area so he can saddle him for you.

“You could say that,” Yunho chuckles, tying Brego’s reigns to a side post for now. “They certainly have a better control over them than we do.”

You nod, almost subconsciously, along with his words until they truly sink in. “Wait. You’re not telling me that they can control animals, are you?”

Yunho shoots you an amused look, lips quirking upwards in the corners.

“That’s oddly fitting,” you blink, mind reeling at this new revelation. “Any animal?”

Your curiosity is so refreshing to him. Though, Yunho only wishes you were more interested in him for the moment. Then again, he probably did this to himself.

“Any animal you can think of, yes.” He confirms. “Even ones you think are mythological.”

“That I think are mythological?” You reply, tone slightly skeptical. “You’re not about to tell me dragons are real, are you?”

Yunho sends you another look.

“Well, then again, I didn’t think you guys,” you motion to his entire being, “existed two months ago. So, really, anything is possible at this point.”

“Indeed,” he chuckles, finishing up securing the saddle on Brego. Once he’s done, Yunho unties his reigns and hands them to you. “Why don’t you wait outside with him? I just need to grab Rain, and I’ll be right with you.”

“Okay,” you reply softly, already turning towards the open archway of the stables and guiding Brego into the field beyond.

The whole time, Yunho watches with a smile on his face. So far, things are going better than he could have hoped, and little by little, that mental void you seem to be keeping up around him is slipping. He can only hope it means that you’re getting more comfortable around him.

While waiting for Yunho outside, you once more begin to pet your horse. Your heart warms admittedly more than you want it to at the idea that they got him for you, and named him after a horse from one of your favourite series. It truly means a lot to you.

Then, before you can stop yourself, you start cooing once more to the horse. Only this time, you cannot help but to repeat certain lines of dialogue from The Two Towers.

“Brego,” you whisper, grip tightening on the reigns in your one hand as you stare deeply into his dark eyes. “Your name is kingly.”

“Fit for Our Queen.” Yunho’s voice draws your attention as he walks up to you, a beautiful brown mare beside him. He meets your gaze, nothing but raw honesty shining within his own. “My Queen.”

You can’t help it. Your breath catches in your throat, heart racing in response to his words. A heat flares to your cheeks, and you avert your gaze.

Pride fills Yunho’s chest at eliciting this type of response from you. He cannot help the way his lips tug upwards in a grin, especially at seeing you become so bashful all of a sudden.

You clear your throat. “You were right. I do like this surprise.”

Your words mean more to him than you’ll ever know.

“It doesn’t end here.” He smiles.

“It doesn’t?” You turn back to look at him.

He shakes his head, motioning in the next moment for you to get onto Brego’s back. Of course, he’s there in an instant to help you on, of which you accept, even if you still hesitate slightly.

Yet again, Yunho marvels at the fact that your hand fits perfectly in his own, skin tingling where yours makes contact with his.

“There’s something else I want to show you.” He says, making sure you’re all settled in the saddle before hoisting himself into his own.

“No funky transporting us there immediately?” You quirk a brow as he falls in line beside you.

“Takes the fun out of the surprise that way,” he grins, bumping your elbow with his own playfully. Of which, he notices, you allow.

“Alright then, cowboy,” you chuckle slightly. “Lead on.”

Little do you know of how happy you’ve just made him.

The longer the two of you ride beside one another, the more you seem to relax around him. A fact of which eases a weight from his shoulders that he didn’t know he had been carrying. Your mind might still be guarded with that damn void, but you seem comfortable. For that, he could not be more grateful.

“So,” your voice manages to pull him out of his own thoughts a little ways down the trail, “if Seonghwa and Yeosang can control animals, what else can you guys do?”

The curiosity he can hear in your voice sets his heart racing. So, this is what it feels like to have you interested in learning more about them. Yunho won’t lie, he could definitely get used to this.

“Well, Jongho and Wooyoung can shift into different animals.” He says, and he watched your eyes light up.

“Any animal?” You inquire, clearly impressed.

“Any animal.” Yunho confirms with a slight smile. “Including those mythical ones.”

“A chimera?” You quirk a brow, seeing him nod out of the corner of your vision.

“Griffin, unicorn, dragon,” he sees your eyes flash at that, “you name it.”

“Not going to lie, that’s really cool,” you voice, somewhat lowly yet still full of awe. “What else?”

“San and Mingi can control the four basic elements.” He tells you.

“So, like the avatar.” You nod in understanding.

Yunho snorts out a laugh, “exactly like the avatar.”

“I think I prefer Kiyoshi, though,” you grin. “She had some cool ass fans.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that,” he teases, a gentle breeze floating through the trees as you continue down the path.

You look around quickly as if you’re afraid of being overheard. “Well then, it’ll be our little secret.”

Yunho swears he nearly falls off of Rain as he sees you playfully wink in his direction. Never did he think he could be able to joke with you like this so soon, but he’s not complaining. This is more than he could have ever hoped for, and he’ll savour this moment for as long as he can.

It’s your next words that truly have him holding his breath. Of course he hoped you would ask, but nothing would have prepared him for the intensity behind your gaze as you look at him. He can just tell you’re intrigued, but you simply do not want to let on just how interested and curious you truly are. A fact which warms his heart, only making him fall deeper for you than before.

“What about you?” You meet his eyes, voice soft with the gentle curiosity lingering in your gaze. “What else can you do?”

“Me?” Yunho grins, sitting a little straighter in his saddle as he looks straight ahead.

Suddenly, a harsh wind picks up, dark clouds rolling across the sky overhead. A crash of thunder is heard, followed immediately by forked lighting that streaks across the area. A torrential downpour begins all around you, yet, none of it seems to fall on the path before you, only the on the surrounding forest.

“You’re doing this?” You cannot hide the awe in your voice and on your features as you take in the rapidly changing environment around you. You turn to meet his gaze, of which is already staring at you quite fondly due to the look of wonder in your eyes. He nods. “Wow.”

Just as quickly as the storm comes, it dissipates, the clouds fading away to reveal the clear blue sky once more.

“That’s-“ you look around, eyes shining as you begin to approach the end of the trail. “That’s…” you search for the right word, “incredible.” You smile, a look of pure awe pulling at your features. “You’re incredible.”

Yunho swears his heart has stopped beating in his chest momentarily as his soul absolutely ascends. Your words mean more to him than you’ll even know, and the fact that he was able to not only make you smile, but impress you with something that is utterly his own has his whole body tingling. He can tell how sincere your words are, too, which only adds to this moment in time. A memory which he knows he’ll cherish forever.

“Hongjoong can do it, too.” He replies, seemingly brushing off your praise for the moment.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear that Yunho is blushing.

“Okay,” you nod once in acknowledgement, “but we’re not talking about him right now- holy shit.”

The gasp that escapes you is nothing short of breathless as you turn your focus back to the front just as you both enter what appears to be a clearing. Not just any clearing though, a beautiful field that stretches on for a few kilometres, offering a stunning view of the surrounding mountains, and the river in the distance. A familiar field full of your favourite flowers sits right before your very eyes.

“This is-“ your one hand comes up to cover your mouth, fingers gently pressing against your lips as the horses come to a stop. You turn to meet Yunho’s gaze, noticing how he’s already staring at you quite fondly, but with a hint of what appears to be nervousness shining behind his eyes. “You painted this for me.”

Yunho swallows the sudden dryness in his throat. “I did.”

“And you’ve now brought me here to see it in person.” You know you’re stating the obvious at this point, but you can hardly wrap your head around the significance of this moment right now.

“I did.” The corner of his lips quirk upwards as he nods, eyes shining as he watches you take it all in.

“I-“ your voice catches in your throat, blinking away a few tears as they gather in the corner of your eyes. “Help me down.”

Immediately, Yunho is at your side, offering you his hand as you climb off of Brego. Gently, you grasp his hand in your own, nearly holding onto it for dear life as you take a few steps forwards to observe the clearing better.

It’s like you’re in your own little world, trapped inside of your own head. Yunho desperately wants to know what you’re thinking. He longs to hear whether this has been a good decision on his part to bring you here so soon, but from the way you’re practically clinging onto his hand, eve if it’s almost subconsciously, he has a feeling he’s done something right.

Then, he looks down at your interlocked hands as the thought fully settles in him. You still haven’t let go.

Yunho’s breath hitches in his throat, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around your own. A fact in which he notices causes you to look back at him with that awe filled expression he’s come to love so much resting on your features. Finally, he’s on the receiving end. Him, and him alone.

“Thank you,” you meet his gaze, and the way you’re looking at him - such a tender look shining in your eyes - nearly sends him to his knees right then and there. “For sharing this with me.”

Yunho nearly chokes on his own emotions as he’s overcome with the meaning behind your words. That shared memory of that one day those few weeks ago of you standing outside of his art studio flashing in his mind. “Of course.”

There is nothing that Yunho wouldn’t do for you. Whatever you want, whatever you need, he is more than ready and willing to provide for you. Yunho would tear down entire empires to see you looking at him like this every day for the rest of your lives. Everything that he is, belongs to you. He just hopes that he can say the same for you about him one day.

Slowly, you step forward, letting you hand drop from his own as you crouch down to observe the flowers. Not only are there forget-me-nots, but there seem to be a few other types as well, all of varying sizes and colours. Then, carefully, you reach out to run your fingers over some of the stems, a thought flitting through your mind only briefly.

Again, it’s as if Yunho has read your mind, for in the next moment, he’s kneeling beside you. Reaching out, he begins to collect a bunch of the different flowers, snapping their stems at certain lengths and gathering them in his one hand before placing them in their own respective piles on the ground beside him.

You blink, unsure of if you’ve managed to drop your mental void in all of this excitement. Though, when you think about it, you don’t think that you have.

Silently, you watch him, moving to sit on the ground so as not to strain the muscles in your legs for too long. There’s nothing but pure curiosity in your gaze as he begins to weave some of the stems together, intertwining the different flowers skillfully without a second thought. Almost as if he’s done this plenty of times before. With how quickly he’s doing so, there’s no doubt in your mind that he has.

Observing his movements for another few minutes, you begin to think you’re getting the hang of things. Moving to collect a bunch of your own flowers, you begin to copy his entire process, though much slower. A fact which only makes him smile.

Yunho manages to finish his far before you’re even halfway through your own, but he’s a patient man. He can most certainly wait. Besides, watching you work on something like this with him, and seeing you so concentrated sets his heart racing in his chest. The fact that you merely needed to simply observe him in order to begin creating on your own has a warmth unlike any other blooming in his chest.

Carefully, his thumbs run over the flowers in his hands that he’s woven together.

Do you understanding the meaning behind this moment for him right here and now with you? Will you realize the significance? From the way that you’re concentrating so hard on your own project, Yunho has a feeling that you do.

A soft smile tugs at his features as he watches you weave the stems together, gaze soft. Your touch is gentle, or at least, it appears to be, as you exert a tremendous amount of care into each movement of your hands. The fact that your brow is furrowed ever so slightly in concentration makes this moment all the more sweeter to him.

Slowly, Yunho reaches out to your mind with his own, brushing against your void with the tenderest of caresses. The fact that you seem to glance at him out of the corner of your eyes causes his lips to twitch upwards in the corners. The best part is, you don’t seem to mind.

Focussing his attention back on your hands, Yunho cannot help but to zone out. His thoughts are consumed not only by the significance of this moment with you, but of how delicately your fingers work the stems. His mind cannot help but to wander.

Would you extend the same tender love and affection towards your lover as you held them close? Or perhaps, your hands would become more desperate, seeking purchase on him in any and every way you can as you pull him closer into you. Do you know how he longs for your touch? He wants to feels you pressed against him in the most intimate of ways as he makes you sing his praises, painting your body with marks of his own, even if they are something that only he can see.

Yunho aches to feel you holding onto him, in any and every way possible. He wants to know what it feels like to have you caress his face in your palms as you pull him in for another kiss that is sure to steal his breath away. He longs for the feeling of your hands running through his hair, tugging at his roots as you drag him back into you for more as he buries his face into your core: kissing, licking, sucking until all you can think about is the way his lips feel on your skin.

More than all of that though, he craves the feeling of your nails on his back, painting your own claims on his body as he makes the sweetest love to your own. A body of which he would do anything to worship the way you’ve always deserved. If you are to be his canvas for all of these sinful delights he has planned for you when the time comes, then he will be sure to be yours.

Nothing would make him happier than getting to please you in every way he knows how, covering each other’s bodies in nothing but the other. It’s what he’s always wanted. It’s what you’ve always deserved.

Movement out of the corner of his vision manages to pull him out of his much too loud thoughts of claiming you as his like he so badly wants to do. However, he will wait for as long as necessary before that time comes. Besides, he knows that once you do finally allow him one of the greatest honours there is, there will be an unquestionable trust between you. Not only that, but the meaning behind such an act would be far more significant to the both of you.

Shifting his gaze, he sees you now resting on your knees, holding your completed flower crown in your hands. Your gaze is downcast, almost nervously thumbing at the flowers held delicately in your grasp.

“You’re incredible.” Overcome by the sense of awe he feels, he repeats your exact same words from earlier, Yunho cannot help but let them escape him. Pride swells in his chest not only at these turn of events, but also from the way that you avert your gaze so shyly from him in answer.

You say nothing in response, opting instead to look out across the clearing one last time. The horses are grazing off to the side, and you notice a breeze flitting through once more, causing the flowers to sway lightly beneath the warmth of the sun.

Ever so softly, Yunho places the crown of flowers that he made for you on top of your head.

As soon as you feel him place the flowers upon your head, you turn to look at him, eyes slightly wide as they shine with something he doesn’t quite understand. He only hopes that it’s a good thing. From the way that you smile shyly, he knows that it is.

“Beautiful,” he smiles, committing every part of this moment to his memory for years to come. Then, almost subconsciously, he breathes, “My Queen.”

Yunho has to suppress the pleased growl that wants to escape his lips as he lets his words linger in the air. He’s already said them once before today, but saying those words again only serves to solidify everything both he and his brothers have agreed upon. What they have always known. Hell, even before they talked about it Yunho was positive that he would accept no other to rule by their side unless it was you.

Again, you cannot deny the way your heart positively flutters once more at the way he sighs those words so affectionately towards you. No one has ever treated you like this before, nor called you as such so tenderly, and you don’t necessarily want to admit it, but you’re actually starting to believe him. In all of them.

Swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat at the way he’s so affectionately staring at you, you place the flower crown that you made onto his own head. Sure, it may not be the best, but you’re still proud that you made that for your first try. After only observing him making one of his own, too.

You say nothing, but you don’t need to. Especially not when you allow your void to drop for the briefest of moments as the sunlight filters through the air, casting you both in golden hues.

A soft smile graces your features as you notice Brego out of the corner of your eyes, recalling another specific scene from those movies as you see Yunho sitting before you. Funnily enough, it also has to do with flowers and sunlight.

The king has got a crown again.

You may not say it, but the fact that you even thought it, and that you let him hear your thoughts has his heart swelling in his chest with an unbelievable amount of love for you. Yunho wants nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms, placing his lips onto yours in a tender kiss, but he doesn’t want to push his luck. Especially not after the day you’ve both shared. So, instead, he gently grabs your hand in his own, brushing his thumb along the back of it before bringing it up to his lips to place a lingering kiss onto your skin.

For a moment, no words are spoken between the both of you as he keeps his lips pressed against the back of your hand. It’s almost as if the entire clearing has gone silent, the two of you in your own little world as Yunho’s eyes flutter closed, revelling in the feeling of your skin against his lips.

Nothing could take this moment away from him, right here, right now, with you. The fact that you’re even allowing him to so much as hold your hand in his once more, let alone grace his lips with your skin, sets his whole body ablaze. That all too familiar pool of desire swirls within him, his eyes flashing black beneath his eyelids for the briefest of moments.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulls away from you. Once he opens his eyes, he looks to see you already staring at him with a soft expression on your face. Your own gaze swirls with a hint of uncertainty as you seem to be peeking out from behind those walls you’ve put up to protect yourself. A fact which couldn’t make Yunho any happier than he already is.

“Come on,” he stands, helping you to your feet in the next moment as he whistles for the horses to return. “Let’s go home.”

All he receives from you in response is a small nod of your head, that all too familiar void shielding your mind from him once again. Though, he notices that when he brushes against it this time, it’s less cold than usual, almost as if you’ve opened yourself up to him more than you realized. A fact which makes him smile.

Wordlessly, he helps you back onto Brego, pulling himself back into Rain’s saddle in the next moment. Once you’re both settled, he sends a smile your way. One of which you return, and that simple action alone means more to him than you’ll ever know.

A comfortable silence settles over the both of you as the horses walk side by side back down the trail and to the stables below. Only this time, when he extends his hand out to you, you do not hesitate to grab it in your own.

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 months

Text

Letters Part One

John Mitchell x Reader

Words: 2927

Summary: More of Mitchell’s past comes back to haunt him when the first person he ever turned shows up at the flat needing his help. On the run from her coven in Ireland, the reader seeks refuge with the one person she ever truly loved in her decades of living.

Notes: Mitchell, to this day, is one of my favorite characters both in general and to write. I’ve never really done a series for him, so I thought this could be fun. I have no idea how long I want this to be, I’m just going with it.

June 7th 1917

My dearest John,

Another summer day passes without you and the only question anyone can figure to ask me is if I’ve decided upon a date. I’m half tempted to lie and tell them we eloped before you left just to see their reactions. Though, sometimes I wish it was true.

Look at me, rambling even through paper and pen. I know you’ve always said how fond you are of it, but I always feel so ridiculous. I hope here it can bring a smile to your face. You know how I long to see that smile again.

I know it won’t be long, my love. I can feel it, though you may not believe in that kind of thing, I do believe there are forces that even you, John Mitchell, cannot understand. Until then, I will keep you with me through your words.

Write soon, my love.

Yours completely,

Y/N

The ferry horn blared in your ears, ringing around like the thoughts in your mind.

This was a mistake. You didn’t have any other choice. He would turn you away. He owed you. You promised yourself to never think of him again. How could you see him now?

You didn’t have any other choice.

This was a mistake.

Over and over, round and round, the parade of problems just made your hangover worse.

You should have had more to drink. Maybe then you’d still be drunk for what was going to happen next. It was already going to be a wreck, so what could a little whiskey hurt?

Just the thought of a shot almost made you hurl over the rail.

You ran a hand down your face and sat on one of the rain-soaked benches. Your phone sat in your lap. It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t call first. There weren’t exactly phone numbers the last time you saw each other.

So there you were, on the ferry headed toward the last remaining thread of your past. The man you loved. The man who’d left you.

You hung your head and stuffed your phone in your pocket. “Damn you, John Mitchell.”

It wasn’t fair. One would assume being dead meant being immune to such human problems as a hangover, but that just wasn’t the case.

Mitchell gripped the coffee mug in his hands, sitting on the sofa with a grimace and a glance at his roommates that said not to bother him.

They’d never understood it. There was something about this day, some reason that he always drank too much, always insisted on spending it alone.

Annie, of course, had many theories. Maybe it’s the anniversary of when he was turned? Maybe vampires just have a set day every year when they turn into wankers. Or, her favorite, perhaps today reminded him of some great love that he’d lost. She’d never voiced that last one to either of them so she had no way of knowing how right she was.

Mitchell stared at the wall.

He should be over it by now, shouldn’t he? All these years, all of the other horrible things he’d done. But this was the one that would stay with him forever. The one he would never get past. The one that started all of it.

“So… calling in sick tonight?” George asked, looking at the time. Sure, they had hours before their shift, but he had a feeling his flatmate wouldn’t be moving from that couch anytime soon.

Mitchell just nodded.

Annie opened her mouth to suggest making a night of it, but Mitchell stood and hurried up the stairs to avoid any other interactions for the rest of the day.

He couldn't handle their worried glances or pitying comments. Not today.

“What’s gotten into him?” Annie asked. “It seems every year, he has to choose today to be his time of the month.” She laughed lightly. George just gave her an exasperated look. “Get it? Because you… and I used to… oh never mind.”

George had known Mitchell for only slightly longer than Annie had, but he’d made the same observations. And he’d decided it was probably best to let vampire problems remain vampire problems.

The day passed away, ticking slowly on, and neither of them heard or saw Mitchell at all.

“Just… keep an eye on him,” George said as he headed for the door.

Annie held up a hand, an idea clear on her face.

George sighed. “Not by poofing into his room.”

Annie frowned.

The roommates bid each other goodnight and George cast one last worried glance up the stairs before he left for work.

He stepped out into the early evening air and took a long, deep breath. He looked up at the moon. Still a good two weeks away from his least favorite day of the month. Things were going to be okay, even if Mitchell was broodier than usual George took a step off of the front stairs and ran right into something.

Not something.

Someone.

Mitchell hadn’t moved in hours, but he couldn’t sleep either. All he could do was sit and stare and smoke and put out cigarettes and smoke some more. The coffee had helped his hangover enough to have him thinking about round two.

Anything to clear the sound of her voice from his head.

“Oh, god, I am so-” George stammered, looking down at the woman he’d stumbled into.

“It’s fine, really.” You backed away, the scent of wolf invading your senses before you could prepare for it. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No, the fault is all mine.” George glanced over you and you tried to imagine what he saw.

Shaking.

Tattered.

Broken.

What a great first impression.

“Can I…” His brows drew together in confusion. “Help you?”

You could smell it from the street. Cigarette smoke wafting down from an open window. Had your heart been beating it would have stopped. Somehow… you just knew.

“No, I think I’ll find my way, thanks.” You gave the werewolf a smile and watched him head off.

You breathed in, staring up at that open window.

There, beneath the smell of the tobacco, was him.

You could sense him, see him as if he were standing there in front of you. Those dark curls, his hazel eyes that seemed to burn like candlelight. His lips. Lips that used to kiss you goodnight. That smiled whenever he saw you.

You doubted you’d receive such a warm greeting now considering how you left things. Or rather, how he left.

Rock music played into the street. It was odd, hearing him listen to modern music. It reminded you of how much of your lives you’d spent apart now.

You knocked.

“Good lord, George, forget something alr- oh-” A pretty woman opened the door, mouth falling open when she saw you. “Hello. Sorry, I thought you were my flatmate.”

“Hi,” you smiled, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. But as you tried to form your next words, it felt like you had cotton in your mouth. Just the idea of saying his name…

“You alright dear?” She asked. She pushed the door open further. “Why don’t you come inside, you look like-”

“I’ve seen a ghost?” You blurted. That’s what she was, you realized as you took in that faint glow of death around her.

She blinked, looking more concerned.

You continued before she could start something else. “Does John Mitchell live here?”

“Um, yeah-” Her brows drew together in confusion. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“How rude of me,” you exclaimed, plastering a charming smile on your face. “John and I go way back. I rang him earlier, he knows I’m here.”

Annie seemed a little more at ease with your sunny demeanor.

“Let me go get him,” she said. “You can come in and wait if you’d like?”

You stepped over the threshold, the invisible barrier falling.

“Thank you.”

She turned away and started up the stairs.

You took a deep breath.

This was a mistake.

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stand there, in his living room, like you really were just some old acquaintance.

You stepped back into the dark and let your gaze go back to the window.

Annie knocked lightly and opened the door.

Mitchell was laid out on his bed, exhausted from his day at work, with a book in his hands. He looked up with a rather annoyed expression.

“There’s a woman here for you,” Annie said. She shrugged. “Irish, I think. Says she’s an old friend of yours, which I’m assuming means she’s a vampire.” Realization washes over her face and Annie bites her lip. “Oh, that means I shouldn’t have invited her in.”

Mitchell scrambled out of bed.

“I’m still not used to that, you know,” Annie defended, hurrying after him as he ran down the stairs.

Both paused, finding the front door open and the living room empty.

“I swear, she was just here,” Annie said.

The pieces started to come together in Mitchell’s mind.

It couldn’t be.

“Just,” he let out a heavy sigh, “be more careful about who you let in.”

“What are they going to do, kill me?”

Mitchell rolled his eyes and returned to his room. His mind was reeling with too many thoughts for him to notice that, when he walked in, he wasn’t alone. Mitchell froze as the door clicked behind him.

“Hello, John.”

It wasn’t possible. That voice. Those eyes. You sat on the edge of his bed and were glad. If you were standing, you might have collapsed under his gaze.

“Y/N,” Mitchell gasped. He steadied himself against the door.

Those eyes.

Eyes he’d dreamt of for decades. The ones he could never get out of his head.

“Sorry for the dramatics. I thought you might not have wanted this conversation to happen in front of your… friend.” You stood, trying to force yourself to stay calm. You were here for a reason.

He straightened, letting whatever frustration and anger he could muster take over.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-” You reached up as if trying to see if he was really there. If he was real. But when you saw your shaking hand, you stuffed it in your jacket pocket. “I need your help, John.”

“You can’t be serious,” he scoffed. “It’s been-”

“I know how long it’s been,” you snapped, taking a step toward him. “Do you think I would be here if it wasn’t important?”

“I can’t imagine what would bring you here at all.”

You lowered your gaze to the floor and took a breath. “I heard about Herrick.”

Mitchell crossed his arms. “And you decided to pop by? Share your condolences.”

“Of course not. You know how much I hated…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “My point is, I'm not the only one who has heard, John.”

“I go by Mitchell now.”

“That would be a tad confusing for me, don’t you think?” You were letting your emotions get the better of you. “Look, I’m not here to hash out old problems. I’m here because you’re the only one who can help me, John-” You winced. “Mitchell.”

There’s a tremor to your voice, one that always used to send protective shocks through his limbs. It still did. You were scared and it made his cold exterior melt.

Mitchell sighed. “What happened?”

The blood. The fire. Your cohort's bodies turned to ash and whisked away into the night.

“I think I need a drink.”

Mitchell frowned.

You rolled your eyes. “Christ, I’m talking about whiskey, Mitchell. Not a waitress.”

“So you don’t…”

“I’m not perfect, I’ve had a few slips over the decades but,” you blew out a sigh, “I’m clean. For a while now.”

He nodded. Something flashed in his gaze. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought it was admiration. The way he used to look at you…

“I’ve been trying, too,” he said. “Get clean, I mean.”

“I’m sure Herrick took that well.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” His ferocity returned. “Herrick’s dead. Everything can go back to normal now.”

“My God, do you hear yourself?” You scoffed. “Everything can go back to normal. What is normal?”

“I have a life now, Y/N. One away from the shadows and the,” he sucked in a breath, “the blood.” He gave you a long, hard stare. “I won’t let anything mess that up again.”

“They’re going to kill me, John,” you finally blurted. “And for the first time in a long time, I am right scared.” The wavering in your voice made it hard to speak but you forced yourself to remain steady. You felt pathetic enough begging for his help.

“Who?” Mitchell growled. He clenched his fists at his sides.

“The coven I’ve spent the past decade with.” The name tasted foul on your tongue like you were still breathing in the ashes of your home. “Their leader- Lizzy Kain.”

Mitchell’s face shifted again.

“You pissed off the Kains?” He said. His voice was so calm it scared you more than the hoard of angry Irish vampires on your tail.

You swallowed.

Mitchell opened his door and motioned for you to follow.

“I think I’ll get us that drink now.”

Y/N,

Things are getting worse. They say that one of the big players in England just became werewolf-chow and now Lizzy is going mad. She keeps talking about following in Herrick’s footsteps and taking what’s rightfully ours. I remembered you saying that name before and I was wondering if we could talk? I’m getting scared. They’re just taking people from the streets now. That creep, Ron or whatever, brought in a thirteen-year-old girl. He didn’t even turn her, just tore her apart.

We have to stop them, somehow.

Meet me at the old clock tower at sunset.

Kieran

“So you didn’t go along with the big bad plan and Lizzy makes you an example?” Mitchell paced in front of you. “Something there doesn’t add up.”

Your fingers gripped the beer bottle in your hand so tight you thought you’d break it.

“What did you do?” Mitchell eyed you.

You took a drink.

“Y/N-”

“I may or may not have,” you took a deep breath, “killed her husband.”

Mitchell almost dropped his bottle. “Y-you what?”

“He was a creep who harassed me every chance he got and he was recruiting kids. Kids, Mitchell.”

“So you decided to take matters into your own hands, well that’s just great.” He ran a hand through the dark curls you used to tangle your fingers in. “I’m sure you feel very noble now.”

Anger pulsed through you like the heartbeat you no longer had. You stood, setting your drink aside. “I knew it was a mistake coming here.” You started for the door.

Mitchell sighed. “Y/N, wait.”

You kept moving.

A hand closed around your arm.

“Just wait.” There’s a slight plea to his voice. “I shouldn’t judge you for trying to do something… good.” You always were the good one, he wanted to add but didn’t.

You stood there for a moment, taking him in.

He did the same.

“I’m sorry, but could someone please clue me in as to what the hell is going on?” Annie huffed.

You’d forgotten she’d been standing in the kitchen doorway, listening in even though Mitchell had specifically asked for some privacy.

Frustration returned to his face.

“It’s complicated-”

“I’m sorry, I have been incredibly rude.” You flashed the ghost a grin, a touch of your ingrained Irish charm breaking through your panic. You crossed the living room to shake her hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“You said that, yeah.” She eyed you suspiciously.

“Mitchell and I have known each other for a long time.” You glanced over your shoulder, unsure of how much he wanted to reveal.

“He knew Herrick for a long time, too.”

“Annie-”

You held up a hand to stop him. “It’s okay.”

Annie shifted on her feet. It wasn’t normal for her to be like this and it made her uncomfortable.

“I can understand why you might have a healthy distrust of vampires.” You motioned behind you with a smirk. “Other than him, of course.”

Finally, a small smile spread across the spirit’s lips. “Even him sometimes.”

“I can hear you.”

“We know.” Both of you said at the same time.

Annie peaked over your shoulder. “Okay, I think I like her.”

“I’m already winning your friends over.” You gave Mitchell a victorious smile. “Now you have to help me.”

He rolled his eyes. “You haven’t met George.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s right,” Annie grimaced. “Plus Nina just moved out and that’s a whole mess unto itself, let me tell you-”

Mitchell cut her off.

“Can we get back to the reason you’re here?” He said. “What makes you think I can help you?” Mitchell held out his arms, motioning to the flat. “It isn’t exactly the perfect place to hide.”

“Who are we hiding?” The door opened as he was speaking. The man you’d bumped into before stepped in. He spotted you and furrowed his brows. “Oh, um, hello.”

“Wait,” Annie said, still trying to wrap her mind around everything. “How exactly do you two know each other again? Were you part of Herrick’s groupies?”

“Herrick?” George gulped.

“No, it isn’t that.” Mitchell moved to stand next to you. “George, this is Y/N.” He turned to you, a flicker of who he used to be resurfacing as he spoke. “My wife.”

#john mitchell #mitchell x reader #john mitchell x reader #being human #aidan turner #being human imagines #george sands #annie sawyer #aidan turner imagines #vampires

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glitchtricks94 · 2 years

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Lofi Hip-hop Beats To Chill and Cuddle To Headcannons: Azul, Cater, Leona, Malleus, Idia

This idea has been living rent free in my head for a few weeks, and now I've cracked. As a result of my upcoming insanity, I present to you a set of small headcannons of you listening to lofi with my selected Twst characters. Got any fun ideas? Want a take on some headcannons? Wanna see any particulars? Let me know, I have nothing but brainrot for all these boys. Enjoy the fluff! -Glitchtricks Word Count: 2.9k

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul's a big cuddler when left alone with you; he loves, cherishes, and simply melts at any affection you offer, gobbling it up greedily like the needy octopuppy he is. And you love your octopuppy as much as you loved your relaxing music.

This boy cannot get enough of snuggling you in his lap. Calming sounds of the sea and soft hip-hop beats filled the room, a few splashes of acoustic guitar and piano jumping in as you sat in Azul's lap. The pearl haired boy held you from behind, one arm wrapped around you as he went over a few small expense reports for the Monstro Lounge. Originally, this was supposed to be a resting period for him by your insistence, but he always managed to sidetrack you. "Azul, you promised you'd be taking a break with me." You chided gently. "Just let me finish these, princess, then I'm all yours, I promise." Azul crooned, looking at you with heart melting adoration. "Alright, alright." You sighed softly, nuzzling your cheek into the dorm leader's chest, a chuckle rolling out from him as his shoulders shook slightly. You were truly enamoring to him.

The kisses you both share during these times were heavenly. A kiss was planted on your cheek gingerly, the coolness of Azul's soft lips lingering. "I'm terribly sorry, my love..." He whispered softly, his voice as hypnotic as a siren's, "I just needed to get those out of the way..." "Oh, honey, don't worry, as long as you rest for a bit now." You replied, making Azul's heart melt as you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his lips quirking up into a bashful smile. "How did I ever get so lucky to have you as my lover?" The merman asked softly, his fingers tilting your chin upwards towards his face. Azul leaned in, giving you a soft kiss on your lips, warmth filling each other's hearts. If heaven was on earth, you would argue that Azul was just that, and nobody could convince you otherwise. R.I.P. Ace, you owe Deuce money now.

Azul always looks so cute when you feed him, too. You let a soft giggle leave your throat as you looked at your boyfriend's cross-eyed expression, his pale skin flushed a warm pink. "You look so cute like this, sweetie!" You chirped, Azul's nickel eyes darting back to your face as a pout formed on his lips. "Darling, are you trying to mock me?" "Never, you just look so adorable with whipped cream on your nose, you always look so surprised and you blush, how could I resist?" You giggled, starting to laugh even more when you caught sight of his now scarlet cheeks. "M-my pearl, must you do such things?" Azul whined, taking a small bite of the vanilla cupcake you offered to him. "Yes, because I love you, my sweet little octopus~!" You cooed, Azul letting out a whine as he looked away from you in embarrassment. Letting out another soft laugh, you kissed Azul's cheek. Oh, how you loved lofi and your man.

Cater Diamond

Oh my god, Caycay with lofi? Talk about a dreeeeaaaam! Cater loves being able to just drop his social media persona with you and kick back for awhile after his 3rd year duties were attended to; mixing in lofi was just an added bonus, plus free cuddles! Yes, please~!

Cater loves to just collapse next to you on his bed. (Or yours, depends where y'all land.) Cater is a simple man: all he needs is you, some tunes and a comfy mattress to be forever happy. However, despite this self proclaimed simplicity, you know your man, and you know him better than anyone in this school. So, you pamper him, of course! Make him feel so good, honey, he loves every minute of it. Normally, you two just set your phone up to a wireless speaker and a playlist of lofi songs on your phone, flopping onto the bed in the room and just basking in the soft atmosphere you both created. Soft smiles decorate your faces as your hands lay interlaced between you two, it always felt magical how you could both have moments like these; no talking, no phone screens, no social media, just you and Cater enjoying the presence and feel of one another.

Both of you are guilty of stealing kisses and giggling like school kids. Smooch! Cater just stole a kiss from you! How cute! You and the ginger 3rd year always found yourselves like this; giggling as you both stole kisses from each other, usually with you laying on top of his toned chest with you head resting on his shoulder. Smooch! Kissing fight! The war has been waged, and now you and Cater were locked in combat! He smooches your cheek, you peck his nose, and here comes Cater with the lip lock! And you are down, Cater remains the undefeated champion! And now you're both giggling again as Cater pulled away, hugging you tightly while you played with his hair. Smooches!

Did someone say spa days? Because Cater loves spa days with you! Busting out the face masks was fun, facials often being done up by you and your doting boyfriend. You two go the whole nine yards too; face scrubs, peel off masks, and cucumbers on the eyes with your hair being freshly washed and wrapped up in towels, you do it all! There's nothing quite like listening to the lullaby like music in the room while pampering yourself with the boy you love more than anyone in the world. Despite not ever doing much on days like these, you loved every moment of them, it was like a fairytale ending as you washed your pores of the charcoal peel, smiling over at your prince charming. "I love you, honeybunny~" Cater cooed, noticing your gaze and stealing a breathtaking peck from your lips. "I love you more, superstar." You replied, a dreamy smile on your lips as you stared up at your boyfriend with a look so adoring, he felt his heart stop for moment. You two both needed more days like this one.

Leona Kingscholar

Okay, let's be honest, this man does not give a shit. Leona doesn't really care about what you do, as long as you know you're his, you don't overstep boundaries, and he gets to have you all to himself here and there, he's sittin' pretty! Leona felt lucky that you tended to deliver so much more than his expectations.

This is one of the few times that he's vulnerable with you. Leona held you tightly to his chest, one of his hands wandering under your shirt to press into the soft skin of your stomach, the lion just lives for skin to skin contact. He'll never admit it though, even when he has you pressed to his chest with one arm while his free hand occupies your own and his tail is wound around your ankle. Leona is very prideful, but he still knows your keen eyes see right through his façade; underneath everything, he's afraid. He's terrified, horrified even! Vulnerability is not this man's strong suit, in fact, it's actually a major crack in his armor and you and him have had plenty of arguments over what you perceived as a lack of trust. Granted, after he snapped and yelled his explanation at you, you both made up, a deeper level of understanding being established. So, this was your compromise to help keep the relationship stable. You already knew that Leona was a cuddler, given how he often clung to you when he decided to take a nap in your presence, so you figured you two could snuggle while listening to your favorite relaxation genre. Your beast of a boyfriend did admit he liked this at one point, and so started a routine of spending the entire weekend together cuddling while lofi played in the background. You normally just let him decide the positions, and after getting confirmation that you were actually comfortable, you two settled into the groove of the music and each other's hearts.

Leona loved how you played with his hair during these times. Your careful fingers ran through Leona's chocolate locks, a hum of content leaving his throat as he nuzzled his face further into your chest. You let out a soft chuckle of amusement as you undid his braids and started making them again, more following suit. All the practice you had before was paying off, your boyfriend not once letting out any hints of protest other than a content growl, the man angling his face to look up at you with a lovesick gaze. You gazed into those emerald orbs he held and gave a soft smile. No words of affirmation were given as you gently ran your fingers over his ear, Leona sighing in satisfaction as he shut his eyes and enjoyed the soft gesture from his partner, his mate, taking that as a silent confirmation of love. Going back to running your fingers through his hair, you continued adding more braids as the soft sounds of rain and music filled his room. Leona felt like he was in heaven getting this kind of treatment, he felt like a king, your king: he wouldn't trade anything in the world for this feeling, these emotions, this love belonged to him, and him alone.

Silence is golden and kisses are silver. Leona isn't one for pretty words, and you understood that perfectly, so your cuddling sessions are often spent with your voices staying mostly in your throats, your actions speaking volumes instead. Leona's shows of affection being akin to that of a cat, scenting you with his body while holding you close, nuzzling his nose into your neck, and marking you with his teeth before licking the new wounds with his tongue. You jokingly call him your precious kitty, much to his chagrin. That last one was always a teensy bit awkward to explain to your friends. Deuce and Epel were always lookin' for a reason to beat the shit out of Leona, so you have to stop them from committing Darwinism. You often showed him your love by touch: running your fingers over his arms, back, chest, anywhere you could reach with your soft hands, sending shocks through his body and to his heart. You like to run your fingers through his hair too, making small braids and brushing featherlight touches over his sensitive ears. Leona practically melts in your arms. None of it compares to your kisses, though. When you and Leona share kisses, it's like fireworks every time as you both feel goosebumps spread across your bodies, clutching each other tighter than before. With how intense Leona is when he's kissing you, you'll be panting when he pulls away, your face flushed red and eyes hazy. And if you're not a mess after he kisses you, he'll keep doing it again, and again, and again until you are whimpering for more from him. Then, if he thinks you've been a good little herbivore, you'll get a treat. I'll leave that to your imagination though~

Malleus Draconia

This man, oh-ho, this man. Malleus is utterly enamored by everything you do together. You both could be watching paint dry and Malleus would still be there, holding your hand and telling you how much he adored you. But getting you all to himself with soothing music from your strange device while holding you close? Pinch him, he must be dreaming!

Malleus is unabashedly a cuddlebug. Malleus sighed in content as he lounged with you in Ramshackle, soft lofi blanketing the room as he held you in his lap, Ace and Deuce being gracious enough to look after Grim for the day so you and Malleus could cuddle in peace. You giggled as you felt Malleus lean down to press a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear, the dragon fae joining your soft laughter. "Child of man, do you understand just how you enchant me so?" Malleus asked, his voice like that of velvet. "Yes, you tell me everyday, love." You replied, cupping Malleus' cheek tenderly. He leaned right into your palm, resting his own hand over yours, lacing your fingers together. "Then I suppose today should be no different." Malleus replied, a smile quirking up on his lips. "Your demure continues to enchant me, you smile is more dazzling than the stars in the sky, and your eyes, I could lose myself in them for all eternity." "Oh, Malleus..." You cooed, leaning up to press a loving kiss to the eager fae's lips. Speaking of kisses...

This man would beg on his knees to feel your lips. Malleus loves the feeling of your lips, and he doesn't care where they land, he just loves the feeling of them. Your kisses feel like small gifts from heaven to him, so he's always hungry for them. Small kisses from him pepper your cheeks, nose, eyelids, anywhere the dragon could reach, he pressed a loving kiss to your skin, laughter erupting from you. "Mal, stop, that tickles!" You squeal, Malleus only chuckling even more as he drank up your sweet sounds. "But, my beloved, I adore the feeling of you against me, and the sweet melody of your laughter." Malleus crooned softly, cupping your cheeks in his gloved palms before stealing a kiss from your lips. "You are spoiled rotten!" You laughed when the fae pulled away, the prince now pouting. "Well, must you blame me for wanting all your affections, my darling?" "Not at all, my sweet." You said, planting a kiss on Malleus' lips, a happy hum escaping the two of you.

Malleus has always held your trust in such high regard. This was his heaven on earth: you resting in his arms with your soft breaths mixing with the soft music that filled the air around the two of you, your sleeping face enamoring on every level imaginable. His heart began to beat faster as he gazed at you, his grasp on your tired form featherlight and filled with love. He always treasured the trust you held in him, despite his more draconic urges. You were ever so sweet to trust him as such, handing your life over to him as if it were candy; it made his heart roar with victory a his beloved adored him as such. He hoped one day to make you his queen.

Idia Shroud

Idia's a hot mess. A very hot, very cute, very nerdy, mess. He needs time before thinking of doing something like handholding, let alone snuggling up to you while listening to lofi. Though, when he finally experiences relaxing with you while such chill music plays, he's asking why he didn't do this sooner.

These days happen very frequently, Idia thirsts for them like water. Have you ever seen a gamer beg on their hands and knees for reasons outside of pleading for the gaming gods to bless them with the luck and skills to defeat a Bloodborne boss? No? Well, now you have! Idia craves this atmosphere of chill, and over all craves your time too, so since you're both introverts, this arrangement works out perfectly! And in case you're wondering, this is how Idia expresses the honeymoon phase of a relationship. This anxious wreck of a boy has never been in a relationship, and he's very finicky about his personal space and will be terrified of physical touch, but as previously stated, once he gets a taste, he will be insatiable. Is it yandere of him, wanting to have you to himself? Yeah, kinda, but he doesn't mean to! Your presence is just so soothing, and coupled with the relaxing music and the ability that you two share of being able to do your thing and still bond in the comfortable silence, it was like a drug for the poor boy! You're the only one outside of Ortho that Idia allows into his room. He even cleans up for you!

Did someone say lap cuddles? Because Idia loves those too! Laying his head on your lap gives this flame haired boy so much comfort, and you don't have to worry about any burns! His hair feels like a nice, warm blanket in all honestly, so it always feels nice when he lays on your lap while he plays his tablet gacha games. You personally love to run your fingers through Idia's hair, a soft hum on your lips as you started to braid his long, fiery locks, the tips of his hair turning a soft pink. "You're so pretty, Idia." You say softly. "W-what?! B-But you're the SSR character, here!"

Ever wanted to have a story based game night? Here you are, dove~ Snuggling into Idia's lap with a blanket around toy two, everything felt so warm and wonderful as Idia botted up that one story game you told him about, lofi fluttering in the background. Idia was never for story based games, he was more into skill games and such, but for you, he'd give this a go. Especially since he adores being able to just touch and hold you, accepting that you actually wanted him to hold you so lovingly, like those couples in that slice of life anime you both loved. As you excitedly played and voiced the lines, Idia looked down at you with a shy smile on his blue lips. He felt as if you were his dove in that moment. He hoped you never flew away...

#idia shroud x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #cater diamond x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #twst fluff

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frost-queen · 1 year

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For the picking (Reader x Nikolai Lantsov)

Requested by: @lareinaa007 Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @evilcr0ne

Summary: I altered the storyline a bit I think cause I haven't read KOS yet sorry. Reader is one of the potential brides for the King. She doesn't like him, thinking he is stuck up for bringing all these princesses here to pick from. After he saves you from drowning, you have a heart to heart by the fireplace.

Wheels toggled over the gravely road. Picking up dust with it’s speed. Carriage wobbling around as those inside got shaken. You sighed annoyed spreading your arms to held yourself in place. – “Only a few more miles.” – One of your father’s loyal servants said. Practically his right hand, signed to accompany on this trip of potential marriage with the king. The wheel hit a rock, bouncing you up in the carriage. You landed back down, tiara moved forwards on your head.

It made you groan loud puffing some hair out of your face. – “You’ll have plenty of time to fix yourself once we arrive.” – he spoke adjusting his gloves. As if not effected by the rough terrain. You reached for your tiara, pulling it out of your hair. The second you raised it up, he clicked his tongue waving his finger in disagreement. – “It is already ruined.” – you puffed out. He gestured for you to set it back down.

“Do you truly wish for the king to see me like this?” – you mocked with a sarcastic smile. He cleared his throat making you roll your eyes. You set the tiara back down, handling it as best as you could around it. Tugging some loose strays aside as best as you could. Exhaling deep, you leaned back against the seat with your arms crossed. Osmo sighed briefly. – “Perhaps you could admire the view?” – he suggested with a gesture at the outdoors.

You brought your chest up a bit, taking a peek outside. Nothing but the same boring old road in sight. – “No thank you.” – you answered letting yourself fall back. Osmo sighed again pinching the bridge of his nose. – “Princess you have to work on your enthusiasm. How do you expect the king to pick you with this attitude.” – he said. You raised your eyebrow quick. – “Perhaps that is my goal.” – you answered with a sneer. Osmo straightened his posture, folding his hands together on his lap.

“Princess I hope I don’t have to remind you of your duties and the stakes?” – Osmo narrowed his eyes, mimicking a glance that reminded you of your father’s scowl. You sighed out obediently. – “No, I have not forgotten why I am here.” – you told him pulling your glove by your elbow a bit up. – “Meet the King, seduce him, become Queen and live an unhappy marital life with a king who chose me for simply how I look or how pretty I talk.” – you declared making Osmo clear his throat in disagreement.

“Princess!” – he slightly rose his voice making you raise an eyebrow. He apologized with a deep sigh only a father figure could. – “I am well aware of your disproval of this potential marriage but think of your duties. Think of our people, think of the alliances it could bring. Our lands are being threatened by Grisha. We cannot fight them.” – Osmo declared hitting you with regret and remorse.

“You are right.” – you answered folding to your duties. – “It doesn’t mean you should like it, but please try to see all the good from it.” – he reached his hand out to take yours. – “For our people.” – he gave your hand a good squeeze making you smile faintly at him. Having Osmo around was both a curse and a blessing. A curse for he would make sure you offer yourself to the king, not giving you any chance at escaping. A blessing for you had known him your entire life.

He had been there ever since you were born. Whenever father was busy with his duties Osmo would take the time and either entertain you or calmly tell you that now was not a good time to disturb your father and that he would make sure he’d come see you after. If there should by anyone by your side right now, it should be him. Your father’s most trusted friend and advisor. Osmo let go of your hand, turning his attention to a little notebook he pulled out of his pocket. You took a deep breath, looking outside. Your doom approaching closer as you saw the waters in the distance.

Once where the fold was far behind you. The carriage came to a stop by the castle. Osmo got out first, offering you his hand as you stepped out. The sight of many other eligible princesses, you swallowed nervously. – “There are so many.” – you whispered to Osmo who placed a hand on your lower back. Perhaps to keep you in touches range so you wouldn’t run. He guided you closer to the slowly growing larger crowd of princesses and their guardians. Some were personal maidens as others were captains of the guard. A few lords with a high status within the inner circle as you recognized the pin clipped on their uniform.

Each and all likeable in their own way. Osmo pushed you closer to a girl in a red dress. She glanced briefly to you with a whiff of attitude. It made you roll your eyes. – “Don’t pay attention to them.” – Osmo whispered to you. You coughed loud, waving your hand in front of you when a girl walked passed consumed by an overwhelming perfume. – “How can I not.” – you coughed out as the sensation tickled your nose. Osmo simply gave you a stare to not be so dramatic.

It made you shrug your shoulders as another carriage came to a stop at the castle. Osmo furrowed his brows, taking out his pocket watch. You peeked curiously at the time. He tugged it away once more, clearing his throat. – “What is it Osmo?” – you asked seeing him trying to overlook those standing before him. – “Why are we not greeted yet? Brought inside? Where are the king’s manners?” – he mumbled to himself. You didn’t agree mostly with Osmo, but now you were wondering it too.

“Perhaps he has already found a bride and we are simply gawking here catching flies.” – you said with a chuckle. Osmo sighed loud at your foolish attempt of a joke. – “I’m sure it won’t be long till the King comes and greet us.” – he answered. Looking around you noticed some others were getting suspicious of this unusual greeting. Perhaps he had forgotten he had invited so many eligible princesses from all around in the hopes to find a wife among them.

You were about to convince Osmo to leave as nothing was budging when the large doors opened slowly. In the midst of it appeared a figure in a blue uniform. You stared questionable at him as he stepped through the doors, clasping his hands together. A cocky smile on his lips. – “Princesses.” – he addressed rubbing his hands together. Some giggled at the attention of being addressed. – “It is an honor to all see you. I hope your travels have been well.” – he said as you immediately got from it that he was King Nikolai Lantsov. Some princesses answered.

“It has been well, your majesty.” – a girl in a green dressed dropped into a curtsy. Nikolai smiled pleasingly at all the attention. He clapped loud in his hands startling a few girls. – “Let us get to know each other. If you would all follow me.” – he gestured with his hand behind you. You and many others turned to see what there was. The king walked amongst the princesses as they made way for him to lead the way. – “Your majesty… are we not being welcomed inside?” – a bold one dared to ask him as she strutted beside him.

Nikolai smiled. – “You are all to be welcomed, just not inside.” – he gestured once more for everyone to follow him. Osmo nudged you to follow the king. A princess puffed loud beside you. – “He’s taking us outdoors. Doesn’t he know this weather is making my skin humid.” – she whined out pulling her gloves higher up than possible. The servant she was with started fanning her. The kings intention of meeting outside wasn’t much appreciated.

Many princesses were huffing and puffing at the hike they were forced on. You looked at Osmo with a glance how foolish this was. Osmo tried not to sigh loudly at that. – “He’s maybe an alternative type?” – he whispered to you not sure what to say to this idea. You hummed mockingly in agreement. You sighed loud at the sight of the sea. Nikolai smiled presenting everyone with his ship. – “Let’s all get on board.” – he said happily as some princesses groaned. – “Is this why we hiked almost through all of Ravka for a ship?” – you heard someone complain. – “My feet hurt.” – another one complained.

Osmo placed a hand on your shoulder. – “He’ll never pick them with their whining. The chances are growing in our odds.” – he told you making you roll your eyes. Even now he still only thought of your duty. All of you board his ship with the help of him. Nikolai was waiting at the top, offering his hand to every princess to help them on his ship. Osmo bowed to the king as he got on, helped out by one of the crew. You were just behind Osmo when a hand got practically shoved in your face.

“Princess.” – he said ever so sweetly it made you nauseous. You kept your hand by your side not needing his assistance. Certainly not from such a bloated king. Nikolai furrowed his brows when you ignored his hand attempting to get on it yourself. He saw you struggle a bit, placing his hand on your lower back. – “Allow me to help you.” – he spoke taking your elbow as well. With a shove, you pushed his hand off you. – “I can assist myself!” – you called out. Nikolai moved his hands back watching you try to get up.

“Are… are you sure you don’t need any assistance?” – he asked as you looked over your shoulder to him with a glare. The king swallowed laying off. Osmo came to the rescue pulling you on board. – “Don’t.” – you told him before he could give you a lecture. Osmo simply sighed deep as if once again unable to handle an untamed daughter. You joined the others gathering around on the ship. Once everyone was on board, got you lined up. Your guardians standing a few paces behind you. Nikolai went down the line, greeting each and every one in person. You puffed loud with a roll of your eyes.

How conceited you thought he was. This wasn’t a marital allegiance; this was a fair where the best looking animal got picked out to win a prize. You felt like a toy waiting to be possibly picked up by the king who wants to play with it. You heard Osmo clear his throat behind you, making you straighten your posture with a sigh. You couldn’t hide it away. You didn’t want to be here and it kind of showed. The king was nearing you as you tugged at your gloves. Nikolai said his goodbyes to the princess as his eyes met up with yours. He stepped to the one beside you, yet his eyes rested on you. You ignored his stare too stubborn to give him any attention.

Nikolai started speaking to the girl beside you but with haste. He didn’t take his time as he did with others. He took her hand, pressing his other hand on top of hers. He then moved on to you. – “Your majesty.” – you said dropping into a curtsy. – “I’m glad you have made it aboard my ship.” – he answered with a chuckle.

You found him anything but funny. Wanting to have this greeting over as fast as possible you introduced yourself. – “Princess Y/n.” – curtsying again. Nikolai whispered your name in repeat with a smile. – “Tell me Princess Y/n what are some of your likes.” – he asked making you snort loud. He raised an eyebrow with a funny smile. – “Am I that amusing?” – he replied chuckling. You favored him with a sarcastic smile. – “Is this the base you will find a wife upon?” – you asked him without any shame. Nikolai’s funny charade dropped. You clasped your hands together between the folds of your dress. – “Tell me my king am I pleasing your choice with my beauty or has this gathering given me the wrong impression?” – you leaned a bit closer to him with a big smile.

You could practically hear Osmo restrain himself from strangling you there and then. Nikolai chuckled nervously. You dropped into a curtsy letting him know to move on. He cleared his throat moving on, yet his eyes lingered on you. You caught him staring, trying not to give in to it. Once the King had spoken with every princess, the line scattered. Small groups of princesses got formed as the King mingled from group to group. You stood a bit aside with Osmo near the railing. Osmo sighed deep pinching his nose bridge.

“Y/n! Honestly did you truly have to make such a fool of the King?” – Osmo scolded with disappointment. You swallowed nervously, knowing he only used your name when he was truly cross or disappointed with you. – “There is too much at stake. Can’t you for once put your pride aside. These prejudices against the King have to stop.” – he told you.

You lowered your gaze, shoulders untensing. – “My apologies Osmo.” – you said softly. You never liked it when he was cross with you. The feeling burning hard through your veins. Osmo took a deep sigh grabbing onto the railing. – “This isn’t a game Y/n.” – he said looking up to the blue skies. Barely a cloud in sight. – “When will you grow up and take up your responsibilities?” – he breathed out as his words cut you deep. Blinking quickly you hoped to keep your tears at bay. – “I…I…” – you started wanting to apologize when Osmo tapped the railing hard. – “I’ll go fetch you a drink. Remain here.” – he spoke out taking his leave before you could finish your words. – “I’m sorry.” – you whispered out.

Grabbing onto the railing you exhaled loud. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a dazzling figure approach. The princess who had stood beside you in line was smiling rather wickedly at you. As if she had a devilish plan in her head, still debating to give in to it or not. You straightened your posture to her. – “Yes?” – you asked direct as she giggled amusingly with a hand on her chest. – “Why are you here?” – she asked bluntly. – “Same as you.” – you answered with a gesture. – “To woo the king in marrying one of us.” – you replied with little intention to mock her. She scoffed loud. – “Is this a joke to you?” – she called out crossing her arms.

“Why are you here when you are clearly not interested.” – she said loud untangling her arms again. – “Forced?” – you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. The princess turned her head seeing the King look your way with a certain glance in his eyes. It made her grit her teeth. You weren’t even trying yet it seemed the King was interested in you. – “Unfair!” – she suddenly called out giving you a little shove. – “Hey!” – you called back in shock. The moment she saw that Nikolai was occupied in a conversation she grabbed you by the arms. – “Let me go!” – you said trying to break free.

“You don’t deserve the King.” – she grunted out pushing you hard against the railing. With a bit more force was she able to toss you overboard. You lost your balance, toggling over the railing into the cold waters. A splash washed up when you hit the water. The splash caught everyone’s attention. Nikolai’s gaze flashed in your direction immediately spotting you were gone. He quickly pushed some people aside wanting to reach the railings fast.

Grabbing the railing hard, he stared over it down to the waters. The vibration of the water letting him know something had disturbed it. He didn’t hesitate to jump after you. There were loud gasps when Nikolai jumped over the railing into the water. Your head emerged above the water, sputtering out water. Waving your hands around, you felt yourself sink more at the weight of your dress. Your head went under again, water clouding your vision. – “Princess Y/n!” – Nikolai called out swimming over to you.

The moment you went back under, he took a deep breath, going under. The water was cold, colder than he expected, yet it didn’t stop him. Underwater he saw you sink deeper into the emptiness of the waters. Nikolai swam and dove down after you. He scooped his arm around you, kicking his feet to change his position under water. Head upwards, he started kicking his feet to reach the surface. He felt the weight of your dress in his arm, but despite it he didn’t let go. His breath was nearing as he needed to breath fast. His head emerged above water, gasping loud.

Your head came above water too as he wiped his hand over your cheeks in a useless attempt to dry you. – “Princess Y/n. Princess Y/n can you hear me?” – Nikolai spoke staring desperately at you to give him a sign of life. Your chest spasmed as you coughed up water. Nikolai straightened your posture a bit so you wouldn’t choke. – “Thank the Saints.” – he breathed out brushing his thumb against your cheek.

You slapped his hand away, teeth clattering. – “Get me out of the water!” – you called out, seeing the spectacle from above. Nikolai noticed them as well, nodding. He helped you swim closer to the ship where you both got helped back on the ship. Water drenched the deck where you stood, dripping from down your dress. Osmo dropped his drink at the sight of you drenched. – “Y/n!” – he shouted running up to you. Nikolai snapped his finger as two of his crew ran over with blankets. Nikolai took them from him, placing one over your shoulders. – “Saints Y/n, What happened?” – Osmo asked in a panic.

You were shivering to the bone as Nikolai draped his blanket over your shoulders as well. – “We need warmth.” – he said placing his hands on your shoulders. Another blanket got brought for the King as Nikolai accepted it. He guided you off the ship, Osmo close. Leaving his other guests unattended. They all whispered and blinked confused as they were requested to safely leave the ship and gather back on the mainland. You were rushed into a carriage with the King and Osmo.

You were still shivering as the King ordered the carriage to go faster. The moment you arrived at the castle; you got pushed around by Osmo who followed the King. – “In here.” – Nikolai said standing by the door. Osmo pushed you inside. – “She needs to get out of those wet clothes.” – Nikolai ordered with a point. Osmo nodding pushing you behind a screen. The King went across the room disappearing behind a screen as well. – “I can handle it.” – you told Osmo who wanted to help to a certain point.

You shoved him back as he bowed and left. You started undressing, pulling the weighed down dress of you. It dropped with a loud thud to the floor, leaving a small puddle of water. There was a knock on the door as it opened. – “New cloths your majesty.” – a girls voice came through. You saw a pair of hands appear behind the screen offering you clothing. Never once you saw a face. She then hurried over to the King to do the same. – “You better get dressed warmly.” – you heard Nikolai say from across the room.

The dress was rather simple compared to the one you had been wearing. No jewels embroidered on it or any sparkles in sight. Dressed, you came from behind the screen at the same time as King Nikolai. He gave you a smile gesturing at the fireplace. You sat down before it as Nikolai came sitting beside you. Holding his hands out to warm them. – “Are you warmer?” – he asked as you slightly shook your head. He looked around for something, spotting one of his jackets he wore on his travels. You watched him get up and return with the jacket. Laying it over your shoulders. He then came sitting back beside you.

You took a deep breath, wiping your cheek a bit dry. – “This is not how I imagined to stand out.” – you sighed out. – “Oh standing out you sure did.” – Nikolai answered with a chuckle. You shot him a glare making him smile even more. You sighed again, pulling his jacket closer by your chest. Nikolai swallowed softly. – “You know… I have a feeling you don’t want to be here.” – he asked cautiously making you snort loud. – “Understatement.” – you answered. Nikolai looked with pity at the flames. – “I never met anyone who could make finding a wife feel so unpersonal.” – you added sparking his curiosity.

“I do have to admit it is an easy way. Simply invite every eligible princess in all of Ravka and she’s ready for the picking.” – you chuckled softly staring at the fires. – “Tick off a few boxes, illiminating those you don’t find pretty or smart enough.” – you didn’t mean to laugh, but it was rather funny to you. Nikolai hummed deep. – “You are right.” – he said making you turn to look at him surprised. – “I was ticking off boxes… I guess I lost the care when the pressure of finding a wife increased.” – he continued.

“So this was not your idea? To pick and take the Princess of your liking?” – you asked. – “No.” – Nikolai laughed out. – “I was far from thinking about marriage… but duties…” – he sighed out. – “Tell me about it.” – you responded. Nikolai glanced at you, nudging your shoulder with his to cheer you up. It made you smile. – “I like your smile.” – he said catching you off guard. – “It’s real. Not formed, twisted, or turned but genuine.” – he added.

Slowly your heart started to warm up to him. Something you didn’t think possible in the beginning. – “I like yours too.” – you responded. – “It’s simple, playful and honest.” – you told him as a smile formed on his lips. – “Are you any warmer Y/n?” – he asked as you hummed staring lost in his eyes. Nikolai stared right back at you guiding his hand to yours as he took it.

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