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chaoscheebs · 6 months

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It's Midnight, Cinderella, chapter 1

In which Seto Kaiba meets a mystery man at a masquerade and things just click, but who could this man be...

(Chapter 1) - (Chapter 2) - (Chapter 3) - (Fic Tag)

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Sometimes, being a CEO sucked.

Once again, Seto Kaiba had to fulfill some inane obligation to attend a gathering of people who he either found intolerable, were seeking to use him to gain a step up in life, or worse, both. The worst part of it was this was supposed to be a masquerade, but no one seemed to bother putting in the effort to at least play up the one fun part of the concept and were largely in generic formal wear except for him. Pathetic.

Or he was alone in caring about style, until he spotted him. Soft blond curls falling softly to just above his shoulders. A carefully-tied cravat around his neck, ruffles adorning the bottom of his sleeves, shining buckles on his shoes, looking like he was a prince who walked out of some fairy tale. And judging from his frown and the way he looked around the venue, he was every bit as disappointed no one else was pushing style boundaries as Seto was.

Seto was hardly a social butterfly, but this man looked at least less insufferable than the rest of the people there, so he decided to walk over and strike up a conversation. If it turned out this man was just as dull as the rest, he was perfectly capable of walking away, after all.

Or he was going to strike up a conversation, but the man in question spoke first. The man looked him over, then smiled. “Thank goodness, I thought I was the only one who took this seriously. I was thinking about going home to change…” His voice was soft, but deeper than he expected for a man his size. It almost reminded him of…

Never mind what it reminded Seto of. The past was in the past, and he needed to remember that more often. “Hmph, don’t let others dictate what you do, especially when it’s clear you’re the one in the right. It’s them who wouldn’t know style if Special Summoned a monster right in their faces.”

The man laughed. “So you play Duel Monsters too? Glad to see I’m not alone there either.”

Seto faintly smiled. Well, now, this is shaping up better than expected. “Oh, really? Are you in the competitive scene?”

“Mm, sort of?” the man said, tapping a finger to his chin and tilting his head slightly to one side. “There’s someone who’s… I want to call him a ‘rival’, but is it really a rivalry if the other person never acknowledges you? Anyway, I’m looking to defeat him and prove myself to him.” He laughs weakly. “Kind of pathetic, don’t you think?”

“Only if you think of yourself as such,” Seto replied, frowning. “You’ll never defeat him if you have no confidence.”

The man laughed again. “Oh, I have plenty of confidence in my gaming skills! It’s just everything else that’s the problem.”

“Even that can have an impact,” Seto told him. “Walk tall like you mean business, even if you have to fake it. It’ll come naturally with practice.”

“Talking from experience?” the man asked with a smirk.

Seto took a half-step turn away from him, crossing his arms and scowling. “Do I look like the kind of man who needs to practice that?”

“With a reaction like that, yes,” the man said, stepping out so he was in front of Seto. “It’s kind of cute, though, in a tsundere sort of way~”

“‘C-cute’?! ‘Tsundere?!?’ What—?!” Seto sputtered indignantly. On what planet was he, Seto Kaiba, cute?!

“Extremely cute~” the man teased, raising himself on tip-toes to get closer to Seto’s face. “Adorable, even~” Seto turned his head with a “hmph”; a clear signal for the man to stop teasing him. “All right, all right, I’ll lay off now. Even if you are cute~”

“Anyway,” Seto interrupted forcefully, “what brings you here tonight? I don’t recall seeing you attending one of these things before.”

The man rubbed under his nose, suddenly feeling bashful. “Ahahaha… A friend of mine, who runs a small indie game company that’s been trying to break into the mainstream recently got an invite, and he sort of dragged me along, saying I need to ‘make more connections’ in the industry.” He looked around, frowned, then sighed as he gestured to a man with long, dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail, who was currently flanked by several women. “Unfortunately, he immediately decided to go flirt with girls instead of helping me with that.”

Seto smirked at the man’s dismay. “You know women can work in the gaming industry too, you know.”

The man rolled his eyes, or at least Seto presumed so, judging by the displeased tilt of the man’s head. “Well, yeah, of course, but I also know how he works. There is almost zero chance they’re talking about Dungeon Dice Monsters, believe me.” He shook his head and muttered, “And he knows I’m not the best at this kind of thing either…”

“You seem to be doing all right with me.”

The man heaved a sigh. “That’s different, you came up to me first. I never know where to start and how not to sound like a game-obsessed weirdo to people. It’d be one thing if this was a convention, but this is…”

“Full of stuffy executives who wouldn’t know a fun game if it noclipped through them and ragdolled in front of them?” Seto suggested.

The man smiled. “You. You get it.”

“I’d like to think so,” Seto said, smirking, “but I am more hands-on than most people in my position. Maybe if things had been different…” He trailed off abruptly. What was he thinking, he had just met this man and he almost started telling him his life story.

“Oh? ‘If things had been different’?” the man asked. The mask had some sort of tinted lenses obscuring his eyes, but somehow Seto could feel the concern in them coming through the lenses anyway.

“… it’s nothing. We’ll just say I’m fond of tinkering and leave it at that.”

The man frowned and started to reach out a hand, but thought better of it and let it drop. “… OK. If you’re not comfortable talking about… whatever it is… then I’m not going to pry.”

“Thank you.” Seto’s eyes briefly darted away, then returned their focus to the man. “I… appreciate the concern, however,” he muttered, almost too quiet to hear over the background chatter all around them. “Anyway. Duel Monsters,” Seto ever-so-smoothly changed the subject to, “What kind of deck do you use?”

“A control deck,” the man answered, “I like seeing how I can make weak monsters actually viable, y’know? It’s a fun challenge.”

Seto raised an eyebrow, not that is was noticeable behind his own mask. “Really? I know someone else who uses one, and he’s regarded as a formidable opponent.”

“Ahahahaha, you don’t say…” the man said, looking away as he absently tried fixing some imaginary flyaway lock of hair.

“He wouldn’t happen to be your would-be rival, would he?” Seto asked. “If so, you have an uphill battle ahead of you. For all the… difficulties between us, I would be lying if I thought just anyone could take him in a duel.”

The man, suddenly looking startled, waved his hands in front of him. “Oh, no, no, no! The man I’m after uses a beatdown deck and has this thing for dragon cards in particular! I’m not—I really couldn’t—!”

“Dragons, hm? Sounds like a man with taste,” Seto said approvingly.

The man’s eyes (Seto presumes) traced over the Blue-Eyes White Dragon embroidery adorning Seto’s suit, the head of the dragon resting over his shoulder. Pointing at the dragon’s head, the man says, “You’re a fan of dragons too, huh? Wouldn’tve guessed~”

Seto smirked. “You haven’t seen the best part of this yet, either.” He glanced around him, mentally calculating if he had enough space for what he was about to do, then reached into his jacket and flipped a hidden switch. White dragon wing materialized behind him, flapping gently for a moment before wrapping around him like a cape.

The man’s jaw dropped, then raised his hands just below chin-level, curled into fists. “That. Is so. COOL! Oh my gosh, that had to take a lot of effort to get right, especially with the energy consumption! I mean, whatever’s activating that has to be smaller than the compartment in a duel disk that contains the battery, right?!?”

“Correct,” Seto affirmed. “Unfortunately, that means there’s an issue with battery life that needs to be worked out still. This was only a side project I did for fun, after all.”

“’For fun,’” the man repeated. “Haaaa, I’d say that’s a weird idea of fun, but I’ve literally forced myself to learn coding and game engines so I could join month-long game jams, so I shouldn’t judge.”

“Really? What kind of games do you make?”

“Horror ones, mostly,” the man said. “At least in my indie work, anyway. I like trying different styles of game in the genre.” A thought struck him, then he quickly fished a card holder out of his pocket and pulled out a card to hand to Seto. “Here, in case you wanna check them out later.”

Seto accepted the card, nodded, and tucked it into a pocket without looking too closely at it; something he would later regret. “I’ll look into them, then.” The holographic wings flickered, causing him to sigh. “And that would be the battery life issue…” he grumbled, reaching into his jacket again and flipping off the switch.

“Ahaha, you at least got it working! That can be half the battle in itself,” the man said.

“True,” Seto admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Still, there’s room for improvement, and one way or another, I will get this so it can stay on for a full night, damn it.”

The man smirked at him. “You’re the stubborn type, huh? How cute~”

Seto rolled his eyes, scowling but feeling faint heat building his his cheeks and ears. “There you go with the ‘cute’ nonsense again.”

The smirk became a wide grin, and somehow, Seto couldn’t bring himself to deny it was, dare he say, ‘cute’? “Sorry, sorry,” the man said, without even the faintest hint of remorse. “There’s just something about you that make me want to tease you a little~”

“You’re nothing if not bold,” Seto replied, very pointedly not meeting the man’s gaze. “Most people wouldn’t dream of attempting that.”

The man shrugged. “I spent all of high school trying to hide,”—he muttered the next part bitterly—”and apparently failing at it—” he then resumed his normal volume, “that I was bi; I vowed nothing was gonna shove me back in the closet now~”

Seto’s mask may have hidden part of the now-deepening blush, but he just knew his ears were giving it away. Damn it. “I… see. So you really think…”

“That you’re cute? Absolutely~” the man said, looking infuriatingly smug as he stood on tip-toes to close more of the height distance between them. “It’s not every day you find someone smart enough and passionate enough about his hobbies to make holographic wings for himself and who’s also charmingly dorky on top of it~”

“First I’m ‘cute’, now I’m ‘dorky’?”

“The dorkiness is part of the cuteness!” the man insisted, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. Mask or no mask, it was clear he was enjoying himself and it infuriated Seto that he wasn’t infuriated by it.

“Ugh, why are you charming?” Seto grumbled to himself, earning a cute squeak from the man.

“Y-you think I’m charming?!” he said, his previous teasing bravado fleeing in a heartbeat.

Looks like he can dish it out but can’t take it, Seto smugly thought. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t still be standing here. I don’t tolerate wastes of time.”

The man looked at the floor, shyly rubbing his arm. “Ahahaha, I guess you wouldn’t, huh…?”

Some small part of Seto recognized this as somehow familiar, but that thought was shoved aside in favor of enjoying watching the man squirm. “Anyway, do you happen to have your deck on you? I want to see what you’ve got.”

The man frowned, then shook his head. “Unfortunately, I left that at home. Apparently most people frown on dueling during formal events?” he said, like this had either happened before or he had been scolded before he had a chance to try. Probably both, Seto thought; this man looks like the stubborn type.

“Sounds like it’s a ‘them’ problem and not yours,” Seto said before pulling out his phone and unlocking it. “How fast could you assemble a functional deck if you were provided cards?”

The man looked up and tapped his lips in thought. “Only functional? Probably not that long. It wouldn’t be that good, tho’. A good deck needs time and care.”

“True,” Seto agreed, tapping out a message on his phone. “I suppose in the interest of fairness, I’ll be making one up on the fly as well. It’s no fun crushing an unprepared opponent with the big guns.”

“Yeah, it’d only—what?” the man said, abruptly changing gears when the penny dropped. “Are you seriously—?!”

He didn’t need to finish the question; as if on cue a man appeared, carrying a large and very familiar briefcase. Satisfied, Seto tucked his phone back in his pocket and started to walk away in the courier’s direction. “I am. Come along now, time’s wasting.”

The man stared at him for a moment, laughed softly as he shook his head, almost as if he was used to this sort of thing, then went to follow Seto.

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“Haaaa…” The man made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh as he set down his hand of cards. “Told you it wouldn’t be a good deck.”

Gathering his cards up, Seto replied, “True, but it put up a better showing than expected. You might have a chance against your mystery rival.” They had long since moved to a private room at the hotel the event was held in, because apparently it was considered rude to play cards during a non-card game event. And they dare call themselves professionals in the gaming industry; pathetic. Maybe if they would actually play a game every so often they could come up with something interesting.

“You really think so?” the man asked, doing the same after adjusting his mask. He seemed anxious about removing it, so Seto let it go and thus there it still sat upon his face.

Seto gets it. He doesn’t always want to be himself either, so he left his own mask on in some weird sense of solidarity. “I do. It takes a significant amount of skill in of itself to make a functioning deck in such a short time frame, let alone one that could actually give me pause.”

The man’s lips curved up into a smile—a genuine one, not a teasing one this time—and Seto found himself wanting to see more of it in the future. “That really means a lot to me; thank you.” The man then set his cards aside, stretched across the table, a hand on the table for stability and the other on Seto’s shoulder, and kissed Seto on the cheek.

The man lingered for a moment, and that’s all it took. Maybe the rush of winning got to Seto, or maybe the man’s teasing flirtations finally won him over, or maybe the man was just that damned attractive, but Seto found himself reaching out and pulling the man into a proper kiss on the lips, earning him a cute squeak of surprise from the man.

The surprise faded quickly, however, as that hand on Seto’s shoulder curled itself into a fist, clutching Seto’s jacket tightly, unwilling to let go. One kiss became two kisses, two become more, until the man climbed over the table and onto Seto’s lap.

Well. At least Seto knew where the man stood on continuing on. One hand buried itself in those soft blond curls, the other rested on the man’s back, slowly sliding downward until it found the soft curve of his ass and squeezed.

For having such a dull start, this was turning out to be a good night.

#yugioh #seto kaiba #yugi muto #rivalshipping #fanfiction #my fic #(yeah spoilers yugi is the mystery man but if you followed my rambles you knew that already)#it's midnight cinderella

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bridgertonbabe · 2 years

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Hey! Love your headcanons, they’re so beautiful 🥺. I was wondering what your headcanons on Violet’s relationship with each of her brothers is, as well as what they think of her and such :)

Charlie was the most thrilled to have a baby sister, having voiced his want for a sister when William was born. Sure, Alexander was great, he liked having a brother, but when William was born Charlie was a little less enthused with having another little brother. He already had one baby brother after all, why did he need a second? He was also quite envious of Edmund and Miles whose little sister Charlotte was born in the same year as William and he couldn’t help but wonder why they got a sister and he was landed with yet another brother. He had already been there and done that with Alexander, he knew the drill of what having a little brother entailed so he didn’t find William’s existence all that necessary in his opinion. In fact, when he had first entered his parents’ bedroom to meet baby William he had instantly turned to his father with a pout and said “I wanted a sister”, and even though Benedict had been hoping for a little girl too, he had to rally Charlie round to be happy for his newest sibling. It meant that when Charlie learnt that he finally had a baby sister, he literally jumped for joy and insisted that as the eldest he would get to hold her first. Upon Violet’s arrival, Charlie properly went into Big Brother mode, wanting to set the best example (which meant no more sitting on his brothers in the mud) and fussed over Violet as much as his father did. He would race through his schoolwork just to spend time with his baby sister and constantly followed his parents around when they were seeing after her, carefully watching them change her nappy and bathe her and gearing himself up to do it all by himself when the opportunity presented itself (when he announced to his parents that he had changed Violet, they were curious as to what he had used for her nappy, only to discover Violet wrapped up in one of Benedict’s new cravats). Charlie was eager to teach her how to walk and talk and became anxious he might miss either milestone, which led to him shadowing whichever parent was seeing to Violet at all times. As she got older Charlie always kept an eye on her when they were amongst the rest of the cousins even if she was quietly minding her business sniffing the flowers at Aubrey Hall or sat with their father. Charlie would enjoy carrying her around on his hip, copying his parents, and especially enjoyed letting her climb onto his back and letting her pretend he was her horse, running around the garden of My Cottage whinnying and neighing as Violet cheered. One of his favourite pastimes was reading bedtime stories to his baby sister, a role he had stolen from his father, and she loved it when he put on voices for different characters or even made up stories himself. Charlie had been nervous to go to Eton, not wanting to leave his family behind so far away in Wiltshire, but what upset him most was how upset his little sister got at his leaving, with the pair of them crying and holding each other before he climbed into the carriage to depart. He couldn’t quite get over how during every return home from the holidays how much she had grown and gradually she blossomed into a young lady - a young lady who would want to make her debut into society. During his years at university he observed how his peers behaved, the peers who would one day become potential suitors for his little sister, and during his first year he already began preparing himself to be overly protective of Violet when it was time for her to join the Marriage Mart (and if you’ve read Violet & Edgar from my BNG series you know how seriously he takes it and the extremes he goes to in order to keep the men of the Ton away from her).

Alexander meanwhile had been a little uncertain about having a baby sister. As Violet’s birth had been traumatic and had left his dear mama ill in bed for several weeks following the arrival of his sister, Alexander wasn’t fully accepting of the newborn. He wasn’t as bothered about holding her like Charlie was and he would politely decline any offer from his parents to sit and cuddle her. Sophie and Benedict weren’t even aware of his aversion to Violet until his grandmother asked what he thought of his new sister and he replied “I don’t like her very much.” When he was pushed for an explanation he reasoned “she nearly took mama from us - why should I like her?” His parents were shocked, unaware that Alexander had any idea of just how bad things had been as Sophie had borne Violet into the world. They thought they had managed to hide it from the boys and had gotten away with explaining that Sophie was merely a little sick and required bedrest, and while Charlie and William hadn’t picked up on it, apparently Alexander had. Sophie and Benedict had then had a sit-down talk with their middle son to explain to him that while Violet’s birth had been tricky, it wasn’t his little sister’s fault for what had nearly happened, and that he had nothing to worry about as Sophie was safe and well. While Alexander initially didn’t seem so sure, it was Sophie’s coaxing to join her on the sofa and to give his sister a cuddle like she did that finally won him over to Violet. “Isn’t she so nice to cuddle, Alex? She’s so cute and snug, isn’t she? Give her head a little sniff; does she smell nice?” Sophie enthused. “She smells like a flower!” Alexander had giggled and from then on whenever his mama was holding the baby he would clamber beside her and politely request a cuddle with Violet. As he got older Alexander would actually have no recollection of a time when he ever disliked his baby sister and much preferred her company to his brothers. They were the quieter half of the Wiltshire Bridgerton siblings and were the pair that caused the least fuss. Whenever there was a yell or a crashing somewhere in the house Benedict would emerge from his studio, entering the drawing room to find Alexander and Violet quietly sat either side of their mother on the sofa engrossed in their drawings or reading. While Charlie took great pride in educating his little sister whenever he could, Alexander was also more than happy to help his sister if she sought him out. It would warm Sophie’s heart whenever Violet sat beside Alexander and asked him how to say a word or asked him what it meant. He had all the patience in the world for her and it never mattered how many times Violet drew him away from his art or his schoolwork, he always gave her his time and gentle nurturing. Then when Charlie left for Eton, he would sometimes be awoken in the night by Violet tugging on his arm, asking him if she could sleep with him, a request he always readily accepted. “I miss Charlie.” “I miss him too, Vi.” would be their regular dialogue before the pair drifted off to sleep cuddling each other. Being the middle brother also meant Alexander was the happy medium in looking out for Violet. He wasn’t overly protective like Charlie was with her and he wasn’t feckless and silly like how William was; he was simply always there for her when she required him. Alexander was probably the most respectful of Violet for having her own mind and way of thinking, and as she got older he was more honest and open with her about certain issues that the rest of the family felt they needed to protect her from, which subsequently earnt him Violet’s respect in turn.

William on the other hand treated his little sister differently altogether. While Charlie fulfilled the role of Violet’s Big Brother and Alexander always treated her sweetly, William treated her just like he did anyone; by being a complete and utter nuisance to her. What were little sisters for if not to tease and prank and frighten? His antics had started off from a remarkably young age when he had managed to pick Colin the cat up and dump him into Violet’s bassinet. Benedict had been right to be concerned when he saw William emerge from the nursery mischievously giggling before running off down the landing, and he had gasped when he saw a cat’s tail poking out from where Violet was sleeping (though luckily Colin hadn’t scratched the newborn at all and had simply nosed at the infant). William had also once picked a six month old Violet up and had been about to drop her onto a slumbering Colin before Charlie swooped in and took her off of him before scolding William and running off to tell their father. It wasn’t that William disliked Violet - he just enjoyed winding her and everyone else up as much as possible (he is very much what one would call a little shit). He found it funny when he splashed mud on her dress and made her cry, he found it hilarious when he shoved her off the sofa and made her sob, and he found it hysterical that time he led her into the woods of their estate only to run off when her back was turned and made her wail - and he found it wholly unnecessary when his father chastised him each of these times and he was forced to sit on a stool facing the wall in the corner of his father’s studio as punishment. As annoying as William loved to be, he also knew when to pull through for his sister when she needed him most. When Charlie and Alex were away at Eton, William had been the one to mourn with Violet when their beloved cat, Colin, had died and had shared the same bed for a whole fortnight as they got through their grief together. He had also written home to her all the time when he started Eton as well, knowing how terribly lonesome she’d be in a now sibling-less house. Of course as much as William could be a good big brother, he was still at heart a teasing one, and often mocked Violet for being a proper little lady, especially when he returned home from his first term at Eton and discovered that there was already a new air about her in the way she held herself and how she acted so ladylike. While Charlie and Alex’s relationships with Violet altered as they all entered adulthood, William’s remained forever the same. He was and would always be the relentlessly annoying brother and though he was the world’s biggest wind-up merchant, Violet was secretly grateful for their relationship being the pure constant that it had been since childhood.

#asks #bridgerton headcanons #benophie babies #bridgerton the next generation #charles bridgerton #alexander bridgerton #william bridgerton #violet bridgerton ii

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adelle-ein · 1 year

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fe engage trailer/promo thoughts

i'm moving all my stuff over here instead of twitter bc today has reaffirmed to me that i wanna get the hell off of there. so now you get to see my game thoughts on here yayyyy isn't that exciting

anyway

the girl <3 kinda surprised that alm and celica aren't sharing a ring if she and ephraim are? maybe bc they wanted to make celica a magic-based ring and that doesn't suit alm? but then again why not have chrom and lucina share? strangeness all around, maybe it was gonna be an exclusive concept for the twins and then they decided to keep using it for dlc

overall i feel like micaiah is working this look the best. where are ike's muscles. they stole them. the poor man is sickly now

also rosado's design has been one of my favorites and if it turns out their relatively practical armor is due to being a "feminine dude" character then i would not be surprised. rn seems like it's a tossup what their gender is so let's hope whatever it is it's at least done reasonably respectfully. forrest wasn't bad after all. and zelkov brings a return of the fates/awakening era Dark Gray Skin which is a shame. at least the rest of the darker skinned characters look okay

citrinne is definitely the maribelle/l'arachel/constance style character...hopefully she's good. some of the other characters revealed in this bunch also look more up my alley personality/design wise than the initial batches (although citrinne's sleeves are. a sin) so that's something. though in general the designs are...whack tbh

also there are so many cravats in the male character designs?? what is up with that

we finally got to see more of the style savvy dress up mechanics and i'm really glad that maybe i can switch off some of the worst outfits, especially the alears. seriously every alt outfit looks better than what the defaults have going on haha

but while overall i'm not really interested in most gimmicky side stuff a la fates and 3hopes, i do really like accessories and dressup options so happy for those. if i have to do a few rhythm games to get them then that's a fair tradeoff....

overall i'm surprised by the amount of really "modern" looking touches. lamps, glasses, sweatpants...fates had a couple accessories like that but nothing quite on this scale? i wonder if that's just lousy art/design direction or a deliberate choice for some plot reason?

anyway these are my favorites revealed so far although ofc will have to get to know characters in game to really know

i think this game could still be really fun, and i'm glad it doesn't seem to be aiming for "oooh what side will you pick" like fates and 3h (technically echoes was in there but overall i'm like...give us a break from the big route splits please). also less politics and drama than 3h which is welcome, i never expect a good story from FE and often when they try to do a "good" story it uh...doesn't land. it's just a shame that i really don't care for the art direction at all, the sameface and the oufits and the overall weirdness of it all :(

also they should add tms rings

#txt #lacefe

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izzy-b-hands · 1 year

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"Ed, enough!"

He bites his lip. There's that tingle again.

In his distraction, he forgets to stop doing what he'd been at, solely to make Stede shout at him in that specific deep, commanding, delicious way-

"Ed! What is this; I said stop!"

This time, he's taking his sweet time tying up the struggling and wiggling French hostage in his arms. Not a life ending thing to do slowly, so that Stede notices and frowns and fusses, but follows it up with a smile and a kiss and a reassurance he's just being a grump (not that Ed would hold it against him in any case, since he's been the one initiating these moments since the first genuine one at the party)-

"Edward!" Stede snaps, his voice sharp and crisp over the sound of the looting and killing crew. "Either tie them up, or toss them to me to take care of! Now!"

He's hard. Really fucking hard. He's never pushed it this far before; usually he complies with Stede's second shout.

The hostage has noticed and gives him a curious look.

"Not because of you," Ed sneers. "Though, you're fine, I mean. Not my taste personally."

The French officer nods, then resumes their fighting against him. Their ass pushes extra hard against his cock now and again, and he finds himself absentmindedly wondering what defenses one could develop for this attack, aside from not being hard mid-raid of course-

"Edward!" Stede's over to him in a beat, hand on his arm. "Did you hear me? What is going on?!"

He moans. Completely unintended, when he had meant to open his mouth to say something cute and bratty in response.

Stede blinks, his eyes drift to Ed's trousers, then back up to Ed's gaze.

He smirks, and tries to yank the officer from Ed's grasp.

"That is my hostage!" Ed leans into it, fighting off a giggle. He doesn't want to break this impromptu scene, not when he's so fucking close.

"Then capture them properly or kill them!" Stede shouts. "I'm your co-captain; I won't have insubordination!"

He slams the officer hard into the mast behind them. "I'm fucking Blackbeard; I'll be as insubordinate as I want!"

"Edward! Stand down now!"

He tosses the officer to the ground as he comes, then pulls Stede close by the loose black cravat he's wearing.

He's aware he's essentially grinding against Stede like he's lost his mind, that Stede is moaning into his mouth in between sloppy kisses, and that the crew has stopped all they had been doing and gone silent.

"Sorry about that argument," Stede says as Ed pauses to look to the watching crew. "We couldn't decide what to do with this hostage!"

Ed nods, but he can see their eyes. That lie was never gonna survive or be taken remotely seriously.

"Maybe you two should continue that discussion back on the ship," Olu suggests. "We'll be a little bit yet, but then you have plenty of time to...argue."

He smiles and grabs Stede's hand and leads him towards one of their dinghies, while Stede laughs and calls out a few last minute instructions to the crew.

"It does that much for you, hm?" Stede asks as Ed rows them back towards the Revenge. "You know I wasn't serious after the second shout, right? I could tell you were playing around or something, and-"

"I know," Ed interrupts gently. "I did have him though."

"Did you?" Stede's brow arches. "Argumentative again, are we?"

Ed grins and giggles. He's a mess yet from the hostage situation, but his cock twitches in his trousers even so.

"I did, and I am!"

"Edward," Stede draws it out in a playfully warning tone. "I won't have that from my co-captain."

"Make me stop then," Ed purrs. He'd fuck Stede right now if it wouldn't potentially tip the boat. But if he can't have that, he wants however close they can get.

"Pull the oars up," Stede commands softly.

Ed tosses water into the boat in his rush to pull the oars in.

"Good boy," Stede murmurs. "Are you going to listen now?"

Ed shakes his head with a smirk.

Stede giggles, but resumes the bit not a second later. "Then you'll have to wait for me to do everything I want to you, and keep rowing."

Ed pulls the oars back out and rows.

"I didn't even have to ask," Stede smiles. "That's not enough to get you out of this though."

One of his hands lingers on Ed's thigh, warm and moving slowly in random teasing patterns. Ed desperately wants it on his bare skin rather than the leather of his trousers.

"No coming until I say," Stede continues. "No matter where my hands go or how they touch you."

He's already aching, feels like being a horny teenager again.

"Don't you dare," Stede hisses. "Relax."

Then, he snickers. "Oh I can't. It would be too mean."

"What?" Ed asks.

"I know what to say to make you fail," Stede giggles. "I'm almost positive it'll set you off."

Ed whines. He doesn't even try to stop it.

"Shall I try it and we'll see?" Stede asks. "It won't be held against you at all, of course. It's one thing for you to come before I say, but another for me to purposefully-"

"I love you too," Ed interrupts as he yanks the oars back in. "Please. We can rile each other up again once we're back onboard."

Stede's lids flutter and he leans in to kiss Ed, his hand creeping up Ed's thigh to rest on the outline of his hard cock.

"Please," Ed whines.

Stede's other hand holds the side of the dinghy to keep himself steady. "Please what?"

"Say it," Ed replies. "What you think will make me-"

"That's not how you say it," Stede scolds him softly.

"You're fucking killing me," Ed groans, willing Stede's hand on his cock to move at least.

Stede's eyes light up. "Finally."

Stede's hand barely moves over him as he mutters the demand in Ed's ear. "Stand down, Ed."

"Fuck," in a soft whimper is all Ed can manage as his cock pulses.

"Looks like I was right," Stede chuckles. "Shall I finish rowing us back?"

"Mhm," Ed nods.

"Okay. You alright to rest until we get there?"

He nods again. Any other words are beyond him for the moment.

"Then we'll get you a bath and get comfortable and rest," Stede continues as he grabs the oars and settles back on his seat.

"And I'll suck you off until you come down my throat," Ed adds with a shaky voice. "At least once."

Stede swallows hard.

"To make up for being so argumentative and insubordinate," Ed teases. "Can you focus enough to row?"

The answer, as it turns out, is kind of. Though Ed can admit he makes it take longer each time he mentions to Stede how he really just wanted his mouth full, hence his being so mouthy before. Surely Stede has something he could keep in there?

The oars get tossed into the sea the second they're close enough to climb the ladder on the Revenge, and Ed almost breaks the scene to ask Stede if he isn't sure they might need those.

Then he hears the soft sound of silk being pulled off and tossed aside, and nothing else matters but Stede.

#text post #ofmd fic #blackbonnet #more low key dom scenes from stede pls #because that fucking party scene lives in my head rent free #does rhys know the power he has with that like fucking hell #anyway pity Ed doing laundry later lmaooo

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audiodramatist · 2 years

Note

Edwright (is that how it’s spelled)

that is absolutely not how it's spelled but i appreciate the effort. thank u king

who hogs the duvet: phoenix hogs it when theyre going to sleep bc edgeworth takes forever to fall asleep & remains very aware of his share of the blankets. and then when they wake up edgeworth has ALL the blankets & phoenix has none.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going: both, constantly. edgeworth once faked his death and disappeared for a year. phoenix once fell 70 feet off a burning rope bridge into a frozen river. they are always worrying about each other. will text to check in while in different rooms of the same building.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts: edgeworth. phoenix always asks trucy/maya/pearl to help with gifts because he cant think of anything.

who gets up first in the morning: edgeworth

who suggests new things in bed: neither theyre old and boring (phoenix)

who cries at movies: both, edgeworth is usually fine but gets hit really hard by seemingly random movies & cries for a really long time when no one else does. phoenix cries a little bit at absolutely everything.

who gives unprompted massages: phoenix. clingy bastard

who fusses over the other when they’re sick: edgeworth. if he doesn't fuss enough phoenix will just pretend he isnt sick and run himself into the ground. the man got hit by a car and broke out of the hospital to go to court the next day. he wasnt even a lawyer at the time.

who gets jealous easiest: edgeworth

who has the most embarrassing taste in music: phoenix's playlists are specially curated for maximum cringe. he has different options depending on who he's trying to bother. as far as his genuine taste, it's literally fine. but edgeworth unironically and very secretly LOVES the soundtrack to the pink samurai musical.

who collects something unusual: edgeworth canonically collects silver samurai stuff i think? but also they both have weird shit that the kids give them. kay's made a game out of stealing the weirdest little trinkets to pass on to edgeworth

who takes the longest to get ready: edgeworth. if phoenix combs his hair before getting in the car that's a lot for him. edgeworth wears a cravat.

who is the most tidy and organised: edgeworth

who gets most excited about the holidays: christmas to new years isn't a great time for them, so neither. the kids love halloween, so they both get excited about that (phoenix slightly more so) and edgeworth really likes valentine's day even though he pretends to think it's silly.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: phoenix big spoon

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports: edgeworth

who starts the most arguments: they don't seriously argue often, phoenix can tell when edgeworth's annoyed by something & they talk it out. but also theyre both lawyers and will have arguments for fun over anything and everything. strangers observing think that their marriage is in shambles. they're having a great time.

who suggests that they buy a pet: phoenix is a "we should get a puppy" person. edgeworth reminds him that they already have a dog once a week.

what couple traditions they have: they celebrate the anniversaries of important cases. sometimes phoenix will make up a case anniversary to get edgeworth to buy him dinner. edgeworth knows, of course.

what tv shows they watch together: canonically, all those samurai shows that miles likes. i also think they'd like survivor. and actually phoenix adopted a 7 year old in 2019. this is a bluey household

what other couple they hang out with: franziska and maya (fun, pleasant, good sibling bonding), apollo and klavier (oh god why did we agree to spend time with them this is awful). also i like to think they're still friends with lana skye & she's got a girlfriend/wife now.

how they spend time together as a couple: going out for dinner after long days in court, staying in the house all day whenever possible, taking trucy to her magic shows, walking pess, they do literally everything together

who made the first move: i mean. mr phoenix "elle woods" wright became a lawyer to find this guy again. if that doesn't count...

who brings flowers home: phoenix

who is the best cook: edgeworth's cooking is safe but tastes bad. phoenix is a safety hazard but it tastes great. they get takeout most of the time.

#answered #collectoroflovelythings #thank u #went overboard i think #someday i'll be on first name basis with miles edgeworth #i cant just call him miles #but calling phoenix 'wright' is too formal

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macaronnya · 2 years

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Fresh(?) Impressions (12)

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Hello Enstarries~☆ Next is the other elite unit Eden! We're almost reaching the end and ofc only after I posted the last post did Tumblr decide to up the pic limit to 30....😑 I'm not gonna add the pic though, I'm too lazy for that. Lately it's so hot here where I am. This week was worst with 37°C during daytime and 19°C at nighttime. What even is this difference in a single day????😭 I literally got baked inside the car like bread. My pulls in Twst and ToT were really good though, amazing and close to a miracle even, and I got both cards I saved up for in relatively few pulls so I'm gonna take this heat as the price ><

DISCLAIMER!: Everything said here is for entertainment purposes only and not meant to attack anyone. This is not an accurate description of any characters but my subjective rambling for fun, so please don't take it too seriously. (Just to be safe, I'm kinda scared of elite idol fans) Also, you will hear me mention other games a bunch of times bc I'm that bad and uncreative at explaining and I'm still grieving A3!EN's shutdown. Eng is my 2nd (or 3rd?) language so there might be some weird grammar or spelling mistakes. And I write at 3 am usually.

Without further ado....Let's Ensemble!☆

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10/10 just for music alone. Not a single song is a miss (I'm gonna ignore the solo songs). I'll admit, I like Adam's songs less than Eve's and Eden's as a whole but honestly, the rest is just so good it's pulling the music as a whole easily to a 10. They vibe so hard I am S H A K I N G and if I learnt one thing from soundcloud, it's that I'm not the only one on that matter. (Srsly the comments under Eden's song on soundcloud sure are a.....different breed....) I like how they make use of their voices and goshhhhh their harmonies are always soooo gooooddd 🥲 I mean that's normal but they just do it so well!!! My fav songs gotta be Psyche's Butterfly with a whole universe as a lead and then Deep Eclipse but smth -Faith Conquest is also such a banger but then you also have Sunlit Smile or Trap for you AND THER-

The conept of them leading you to Eden, paradise in christianity, is pretty interesting considering their rather dark color scheme and uh intimate lyrics sometimes. And the fact that Hiyori and Nagisa, former fine members are now here in this supposed paradise in subunits Adam and Eve..... Makes you wonder if it's really Eden they're taking you to. Well, it's a very cool and smart execution. Their outfits are fancy suits just like fine but in dark and the underside of their coats correspond to their personal color. The gold accents, cravats and gloves give them a noble feeling. And just a small coincidence probably, maybe even a stretch, but the colored coat parts on top are shaped like diamonds! Neat. It's pretty alright but I'm not a fan of the hanging belts or whatever they're supposed to be.

They're one of the top idol groups and as such seem to have a more professional dynamic with eacht other from what I've seen. They hold high expectations of themselves and are very confident in their skills to reach those. Apparently former rivals with Anzu and Trickstar (so cute how it's canon she treasures them so much 🥺). They remind me of TRIGGER (Idolish7) and Quartet Night (Utapri) witt their rival thingie, "dark" aesthetic and music.

9.5/10 - woooowwwwiiiiieeeee

Nagisa Ran

A newborn duckling. Now, hear me out. It was very clear he was lonely for most of his life if he only recently discovered now how socialising works. With his dad being some world ruling mastermind that explains it, I guess. It doesn't seem like he has a (strong) opinion on anything since everything is new to him. Even himself. And Ibara is somehow the one he imprinted on, kinda? Idk why it's that guy and I'm kinda worried what he'll pick up from him but oh well 🤷‍♀️ I thought he'd have more of a demanding personality based on the group name, the covers and his appearance but nah. Interesting how it's only him whose color is based on his eye color and not his hair. Dunno what this means but I just wanted to mention what I noticed. His hair is as ⭐fabulous⭐ as Wataru's. He very much looks like some ML from a rofan webtoon, the white red-eyed version specifically. His voice is solid and deep, a normal but not boring voice. Actually very soothing, now that I think about it.

6.5/10 - interesting but still kinda boring not so little young swan

Hiyori Tomoe

IIIIIIIII HIYORIIIIIII~☆☆☆ Radiates confidence, optimism and somehow floral scent. He looks like the charming and popular second prince. I mean, I guess he is a noble. Thank god, he seems relatively down to earth, though. Has a mischevious air to him but only a little. I really love his appearance. Violet eyes are always beautiful but his specific green is just perfectly complementary (not in the sprite on the right, that looks like bleached lettuce). He reminds me of pistacchio ice cream 👌 His voice is higher than expected but very lovely, dynamic and powerful but not really stong. Like how an archer is strong bc they're agile and not really strong. You get what I mean? Very nice to see he's also earnest and prefers to be honest, that also requires a certain kind of strength.

8.5/10 - fun bestie to have

Ibara Saeguaa

Capitalist. I'm not saying that's his whole personality but I'm just saying.......👀 He's peculiar in that he has some experience in the military (I think??) and also wants to become rich by being an idol? Like, what kinda combination of backstory is this. It's like a sandwich consisting of tomatoes, chocolate and beans. All raw. Two faced, which the game insists on showing it outright lolol I mean, I guess he's very ambitious and at least actually puts in the work himself. He does look like the capable secretary that's actually pulling all the strings. How the hell did he get close to Nagisa???? I'd feel too scared to ever step into his room, fearing there's a dead body in the bathroom or smth. He has a strong voice but....it's soooo slimy and pretentious. Idk how to describe it any better than that. Even his purple is not pretty.

4/10 - Sussy guy I disliked the moment I laid eyes on him

Jun Sazanami

His voice is ssssoooooo prettyyyyy. That one note he had in Majestic Magic, you know the one, was just 🍰. Similiar to Hiyori but a bit of a deeper pitch and more....of a soft sea breeze rather than a floral breeze. He also looks just absolutely dashing, handsome and adorable; it's a beautiful dark shade of blue and yellow eyes are just so on point to that blue. It's like I'm looking at the night sky 🌠 On a superficial level, he's literally perfect. Personality is also pretty OK, though. His laugh was also sooooo cute??? I'm already kinda down bad for him.... I kinda thought he might be more wild like Koga but that doesn't seem to be the case. It might be weird for me to write only this much but I don't have a lot to say anymore about him.

10/10 - unproblematic chill sympathetic cute guy 👌

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Conclusion

I'm also about to become an Eden-P. Together with Knights and Crazy:B, these 3 units are my absolute favs when it comes to music. I sure hope the characters don't disappoint. Honestly, I can't wait to jump headfirst into the main story and then to the other stories. I bet the comedic moments are priceless and one of a kind with this kinda cast.

At this point, you know the drill. Comment if you wanna with care ofc and just have fun~ See y'all on the next post~☆

#ensemble stars #enstars #Eden #macaron rambles #it is in fact not 3 am yet #1 minute!!!

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workofheart · 3 years

Note

hii, i love ur works so much :D can i request headcanons for levi and how he would be/act around his crush? thank uu

hi bby!! yes you may <3 these are so adorable ugh i swear i fall more in love with him every day

levi around his crush

it’s pretty rare that levi actually lets himself catch feelings for someone, so i imagine that when he does, he really thinks that person is really special and admirable

i believe isayama has mentioned this, but levi would probably stumble over his words when talking to his crush! he usually doesn’t have such personal feelings to cloud his composure so it’s not something he’s had practice dealing with - therefore, when he finally does have to deal with it, he’s inexperienced

he keeps losing his train of thought when speaking because he can’t help himself from looking at you, keeps repeating himself, going in circles - it stresses him out, probably fake coughs to cover up his stutters

you’re just so distracting :’) he thinks you look so pretty, even when you’re just in meetings listening to other people talk. his favorite part is when he gets to hear you talk and share your view - you always sound so smart and everything you say has substance that always surprises him and makes him think

other people think he looks bored, sat with his head in his palm, but in reality he’s just soaking in your voice and committing it to memory

has so much consideration for you, always worries if people are listening to you and scolds them when they aren’t, worries if you’ve eaten, worries if you are drinking enough water, if you’ve gotten enough sleep

he’s such a thoughtful and attentive person, it really makes me want to cry :(( any time he’s out in public and sees something that reminds him of you, he picks it up and brings it back, probably sets it on your desk next to a loaf of bread he picked up for you and is just so nonchalant about it, muttering a little “just thought you’d like it” - he’s just trying to show he cares

he really values you as a person even if you don’t reciprocate his feelings, so he wants to look after you and make sure you’re alright. he knows how tough this life can get and he just doesn’t want you to feel like you’re alone or have no one to go to - his door is always open

brings you a cup of tea late at night when he knows you’re doing work, “accidentally” runs into you in the hallways when you’re out for a walk just so he can talk to you in a more private setting

your compliments make him feel like he’s about to explode, seriously. you mention that his hair looks nice when it’s a certain length? you best believe he’s gonna keep it that way, and worries internally about you not liking it once he finally gets a trim (even though you absolutely wouldn’t)

sometimes you fix his cravat for him if it gets messed up or starts to come untucked and he just freezes because you’re so close and he doesn’t know where to look - at you, at your hands, to the side, so he just looks uncomfortable but in reality he’s just flustered

and you probably go to hange like “yeah idk i feel kind of bad i was just trying to be nice but maybe i overstepped” and they’re like ...? “trust me he liked it dw” and you only realize what’s going on until they explicitly point it out to you that he does things for you that he doesn’t do for anybody else and he acts more shy around you when he’s typically the most unbothered person on earth

to be honest he probably never verbally confesses, it morphs into a mutual understanding of your feelings and you just form a relationship around yourselves as best you can with the circumstances at hand <3

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi x reader #levi fluff #levi ackerman headcanons #levi ackerman hcs #levi ackerman imagines #aot x reader #aot fluff #aot headcanons #aot hcs

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piraticusdorm · 2 years

Text

Piraticus Chapter 5: [Fairy]

The sun is at it’s peak, light merciless, and Gwen realizes her mistake as soon as she turns to look up and it blinds her eyes. Quickly she rubs them as to shake it off, looking a second time more carefully.

She finds adorable pompom boots hanging in the air, followed by an equally cute belt and cravat, finally leading to a delicate face and eyes that sparkle in rainbows. The pointy ears and wings clearly marking the person in front of her as a fairy, and a beautiful one at that. Gwen blinks a few times, both in surprise and trying to mitigate the burn from the sunlight on her eyes.

???: Didn't you hear me!? Kick them out already!

Krok: Shut up Tink.

Tink: You dumb lizard! I'm the Vice-Leader remember!?

His voice is shockingly musical despite yelling in anger, Gwen notices right away the subtle bell chime that rings after each word. Even while furrowed in disdain, his eyes shimmer in an ever changing swirl of colors. Gwen faintly recalls videos of glitter nailpolish and finely cut gems, but the eyes of the fairy are far more captivating than any of those. So lost is she for words, she only snaps back to reality as Grim climbs her shoulder and almost throws her to the side, Gwen regaining her footing at the last second.

Grim: Him!? Vice-leader?

Tink: What’s that supposed to mean you creepy little rat!? That's right, I'm the Captain's first mate, and I'm telling you to 🔔🔔 off!

Krok: ...It’s because you always make trouble that they’re here.

Tink: HAH!? Say that again and see what happens.

Krok: You heard me.

The vice-leader lowers slightly in the air, chest out as he glares as the crocodile. The slight crease in the latter’s eyebrow could be his own glare. The air feels tense for a moment, fists and jaws clenching.

▶ You're so sparkly

It’s a whisper, dragged on by Gwen’s awe and childish glee. Oh how she wants to touch those precious wings and keep gazing into those eyes. Tink makes a face, the corner of his mouth going south at Gwen’s hushed admiration. It distracts both men for a moment. Enough for them to set their little squabble aside. For now.

Tink: Tch. I’ll deal with you lizard later. As for you two, we don’t do tours, so scram.

Grim: Not before we make you pay!

Tink: Okay seriously what the 🔔🔔 is that? A gremlin?

Grim: I’M THE GREAT GRIM!!!

Tink: Close enough.

Gwen pats her little friend's ears in a bid to calm him. Then, straightening her posture and patting her skirt, she takes a deep breath, gathering courage.

▶ Good morning! Or, rather, noon. Might I ask, you can fly without a broom? Because you’re a fairy!? You're so sparkly, of course you must be one!

Tink: Ha? This isn’t a big deal for me. I don’t need to rely on dust or brooms like you losers. Must suck to be stuck on ground~

… Wait, are you stupid!? Why are you asking that out of a sudden? I told you to scram! We have enough as it is!

Krok: Don’t go yapping everything away.

Tink: I’M NOT! I-It’s lunch time, yeah, so we’re closed! We have a bunch of hungry people who are going to get veeeeery aggressive any moment. If any of them beats you up it won’t be our fault!

▶…I don’t see anyone around though

Tink: …

There’s a tense silence only broken by the chant of seagulls. Tink’s cheeks dust pink as Gwen looks around innocently the empty beach, while Krok smirks.

Grim: I can’t smell anyone nearby.

Krok: They’re all probably on the ship by now…

Tink: …That’s it. You’re all getting flung to sea.

Grim: OI GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!

Requested to be tagged: @starshiningsirius @onlywished

#twst oc #twst fandorm #twisted wonderland #piraticus story

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shitz-suji · 2 years

Text

A Bridgerton-esque Romance (Headcanon)

Just a continuation of my Bridgerton-induced headcanon writing spiel for that one Pokemon Champion with the cravat. Enjoy! 👉👈

Forming a Connection Pt. 1

Falling in Love Pt. 2

The Romancing (Starts) Pt. 3

The little pitter patter of his heart at the sight of you now was anything but the contentment of friendship.

It didn’t take very long for him to understand that he had developed feelings for you.

And that you didn’t or couldn’t take him seriously even when he was making an effort to convey that to you.

Deep down, he was frightened of ruining the relationship he had with you just because he caught feelings.

You seemed oblivious to his words, his gaze, and his advances. Your continued indifference made him believe that maybe you just didn’t see him as anything more than a friend.

He is also confused because he isn’t quite sure about the depths of his feelings just yet. Was this just a casual infatuation, formed from a deep sense of respect and admiration for you, or did he wholeheartedly want you?

While Steven was sorting all this out, you start to see him withdrawing. He is cautious with his words around you, his smile feels forced, and he is somehow specifically unavailable when you’re looking for his company.

Did you say something wrong? Did you do something wrong? Why won’t he tell you?

His distress ends up causing you distress.

You don’t show it though because doing so will only stress everyone out even further. Your reaction isn’t to poke or prod, no matter how much you want to. If he has something to say, he’ll eventually say it, or so you believe. So you only do your best to reassure him that you’ll be within reach when he is ready.

That is what ends up helping Steven to make a decision about his feelings. The fact that you are so wonderfully you. (And that he misses you)

Maybe it’s a little unfair to you because you’re the sole recipient of his ‘mood swings’. He turns his charm up to 110%. He is suave, debonair, chivalrous, all of that and more. He spares no expense, because he can afford it and because you deserve it.

His goal is just to make you aware of him, physically and mentally.

You are somehow reminded of your first impression of him. If you weren’t suspicious before that his gestures held a heavier intent to them, you are now.

Steven is not one for a drawn out game though. At some point, he realizes that the quickest way to resolve all this is to just confess everything. His admiration and respect for the you that helped him out of his shell, the you that brightens his days, lives in his thoughts, and fills the space around him.

He wants you.

What started off as an emotional connection gradually spiraled into a deep attraction, and he couldn’t stop himself. Or he just didn’t want to.

Everything is up to you now, he tells you. If you want to forget this ever happened and go back to how things were before, consider it done. If you feel the same way, he’ll make sure that you’ll never regret it.

#pokemon #pokemon headcanons #steven stone #champion steven stone #steven stone x reader #daigo tsuwabuki #tsuwabuki daigo #steven stone headcanons #headcanons

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themandilorian · 3 years

Text

What's up I am five glasses of sangria in and I watched the 2019 Les Mis concert courtesy of this magnificently kind person who posted this link.

AND I HAVE THOUGHTS

First of all, this benefits HUGELY from Nick Jonas not being there. It beats the one at the O2 by that virtue alone. But good lord Michael Ball is a close Jonas replacement. I can write a dissertation on how terrible he is as Javert?! I also think I prefer this smaller setting. There are more movement and blocking in the background too, so a little closer to the actual show, but it's still a concert format.

Random note: it's a cravat NOT A BOW. Why are they all wearing stupid little bows!? Marius has a pastel PINK one?! Who is in charge of that decision?? Please I just wanna talk.

Carrie Hope Fletcher (Fantine): I love her! Her voice is very round and projects so well in a theater setting. Her Fantine is less damsel in distress and more mad at the world and tbh, she's right.

Alfie Boe (Valjean): 11/10 no phoning in. One of the best if not the best bring him home out there.

Shan Ako (Eponine): also a little less sad and more assured. We are very used to Samantha Bark's tragic Eponine and I don't mind this new direction! The new arrangement made on my own a little more pop-sounding too, which is a little jarring at first, but I think it suits her voice perfectly. She and Gavroche also have a little hands clasped moment and it was ADORABLE. I hope every production does this from now on.

Rob Houchen (Marius): an actual noodle. Fandom Marius incarnate. Actually shows up in pastel and a stupid little bow as that one post says. He's pretty great though. Empty chairs was heartbreaking.

Michael Ball (Javert): OOH BOY. Where do I begin? He sounds like he has a cold the whole time?? And this is pretty much like...Javert but make him a Disney villain.

Bradley Jaden (Enjolras): perfectly intense. Extremely dramatic and extra 12/10 brick Enjolras would approve.

(Seriously, I love him unconditionally on principle but he looks so dumb with that damn bow.)

(You cannot convince me that this Enjolras is straight)

Raymond Walsh (Grantaire): ok I am incapable of not loving any version of my trash gremlin but he is ADORABLE. Perfect little annoyance and R+ Gavroche is perfection.

(actual thing that happens on stage. Treat yourself, go watch this now.)

OK if you read this far I know you just wanna know about ExR AND GOD I LOVE THEM. They have a perfect Enjolras trying to herd kittens and Grantaire dangling cat toys everywhere thing going on. LOOK:

(Just wait til we get home mister)

(But babe come back I'm not done making fun of Marius)

(This was SO tender. He had one hand on the small of R's back and the other on his arm. When R stormed off to hug Gavroche my heart broke a bit more)

(only lovers left alive. My soul for a production where they clearly die holding hands. Like what are you afraid of Cameron Mackintosh?)

#ok by the time I finished writing this the whole pitcher of sangria is gone #please expect no coherent or useful thoughts #i cannot sing to save my life so this is my review as an uncultured swine so take it with like a whole shaker of salt #i stand by every word tho #les mis #staged concert 2019 #exr #enjolras #grantaire #marius #eponine #jean valjean

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sparks-joy-imagines · 3 years

Note

hiiii!! I saw the recent post and wanted to request this if possible:

after a huge bloody battle where they nearly lost each other, ace and sabo's crush stumbles towards them with a shaky whisper of their name, pulls them by the strings of their hat/cravat and deeply kisses them, confessing their feelings. thank you!

thank you so much for your request :D hopefully you can enjoy what we came up with - mesu Ace: “Ace! Ace..” As fast as your aching legs allowed you to, you dragged yourself over to him. Cupping his face in your hands you frantically looked him up and down for any serious injuries but he seemed mostly all right. Without a second thought you pressed your lips against his, pulling him closer by the strings of his hat in an attempt to make yourself realise that he was safe and by your side. Ace’s eyes widened when he felt your lips on his. Soon his gaze softened and he sighed against your lips, deepening the kiss before he pulled back to rest his forehead against yours. “On kissing terms now, are we?” An equally playful and relieved smile appeared on his lips. Startled as you hadn’t even realised what you had done you pushed against his shoulders to bring some distance between you, yet he held you in place. “Don’t give me this crap! I thought I lost you!” Even as you started squirming your way out of his grip it only got tighter. “Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,“ Ace tried interjecting but you didn’t let him finish. “No! You listen to me now. You think it’s funny to think the person who means most to you in the entire world is dead? That the one person that you love“ —you shifted uneasily in hold— ” that.. that gets you is torn out of your life just like that?!” The silence that followed your little outbreak let you suddenly become very aware of what you had just revealed. Lowering your gaze to your hands you started fidgeting with them. There was no chance you could stand Ace’s gaze right now and you knew it. It took several moments before you could sense any reaction at all from him. “So, you love me.” You couldn’t read the tone in his voice and judging from the heat radiating of your cheeks you could easily switch careers to a fire hydrant. “What about it?” There was no way you would ever be able to look into his eyes again. Pressing your hands together you could still feel his iron grip on your shoulders. Seconds seemed to stretch out to hours until you heard fabric rustling and felt the grip of his hands gone. Next thing you knew Ace was squatting down in front of you leaving you no choice but to face him. He got a hold of your hands and pressed them gently in his own. The formerly playful smile on his lips was gone and a shiver ran down your spine as you noticed the seriousness in his gaze. The moment he spoke your heart fell. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to tease you. I love you, too. And I promise you that I’ll never disappear from your life just like that, ‘kay?” Sabo: “S-sabo..” Your voice was raspy and it took all of your strength to push your volume over the groaning of the wounded. “Come on. Where are you, Sabo?”

Even if your legs felt like giving in every second you were too stubborn to stop limping on. Earlier Sabo had taken a direct hit for you flying into a stone wall of a nearby building. You knew his haki was good but the impact had been devastating.

Back then, you had to take care of your opponent so you couldn’t check if he was alright and now there wasn’t even anything of the stone wall left, and even worse no Sabo in sight either.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you hissed under your breath while you let your gaze wander over the rubble left from the fight.

Just when you were about to give in, you heard footsteps right behind you.

“Looking for me?”

In a swift motion you turned on the spot just to see Sabo standing there, his arm in a noose. He grinned at you apologetically and pointed to the first aid tent the support troupes of the Revolutionary Army had set up.

“Sorry, Koala forced me to go get my arm checked first. Got my joint put into place again and should be fine in a couple days though. Not to worry.” He rubbed his neck a bit and looked at you.

You couldn’t help looking at him dumbfounded. The wave of relief that washed over you finally got the better of you. Your legs gave in and you landed on the ground with a thud.

Sabo was down at your side within mere seconds.

“You okay, Y/N?” He eyed you anxiously and turned to call a medic over.

“You’re okay. I.. I thought when you took that hit for me, you would-” You didn’t recognise your own voice among the sobs which finally found their way out of your throat.

By the time it took Sabo to turn back to you, you were full on crying. He gently wrapped his healthy arm around you and curled you into his chest, rocking you back and forth.

“Shh, Y/N. I’m here. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

In your vulnerable state you clawed yourself in the first piece of clothing of him in your reach, his cravat, and pulled him down to you, sealing his lips with yours.

For a small eternity it felt your lips were just where they were supposed to be. On his.

Slowly, you pulled back and peeked up into his shocked eyes.

“Never.. ever take that kind of hit for me again, Sabo, you hear me?” you stroked shyly over his cheek and gazed down when he covered your hand with his own. “I love you too much as though I could stand losing you like that.”

Just when Sabo opened his mouth to say something, a soft cough could be heard from behind you two.

“Medic here. What can I do for you?”

Sabo grunted displeased and turned to the medic.

“Can you give us just a minute? We’ll be done here and.. I’ll get Y/N to the tent.”

The medic nodded and disappeared while Sabo turned back to you, smiling warmly.

“Sorry ‘bout that. If I knew you were confessing I wouldn’t have called for them.”

You nodded slowly and leaned back a little.

“Just my luck to have this kind of timing, huh?” you chuckled.

Sabo gently stroked your hair out of your face but instead of pulling it back he cupped your cheek in his hand. His eyes darted from your eyes to lips and back as he slowly leaned in.

“Maybe we’ll have more luck together?”

Just before his lips touched yours you whispered: “Maybe”

#text #request #imagine #one piece #one piece imagine #sabo x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #sabo #portgas d. ace #mesu #one piece x reader

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

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Title: Pleasing The Duke {1}

Duke of Hastings/Rege Jean Page x OFC Jemilla “Jemi” Remmington

Warning: Plot, Regency Period Piece, Slow Burn, LOTS OF WORDS

Words: 5.7k

Summary: After your four weeks on the marriage mart and the tumultuous way yours and the Duke’s budding friendship that turned into a faux courtship, then a real crisis that could have tarnished your name forever, you are now married to the Duke. Only this is no traditional marriage. The Duke has professed to never fall in love, never get married, and never sire an heir, a matter you know nothing of. Furious that his wanton, lustful desires have gotten him to forego one of those vows, he is determined not to break the other two. That would usually be an easy feat. Only with you, it might be more challenging to keep those vows, seeing as no matter what, you are the only thing on his mind.

Note: Inspired by Rege Jean Page’s portrayal of Simon Bassett. This fic will not have any other characters from the series, except Lady Danbury, mainly the portrayal version of her by the incredible Adjoa Andoh and maybe Queen Charlotte portrayed by Golda Rosheuvel. This series will focus on The Duke and an OFC female character and will be a sultry and erotic historical romance. Anyone under 18 is advised not to read.

***Let me know if you guys want me to add like glossary terms at the end of the chapters for period specific words/items.

***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Julia Quinn’s characters, nor the Characters established by Bridgerton. I own the rights to the original characters created in this story.

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

Chapter One: The Duke & Duchess Of Hastings

“I pronounce you husband and wife.”

You kept your back straight and your limbs stiff though you felt at any moment either or both would give way, sending you tumbling to the ground in a heap of white lace, silk, and tulle. Perhaps you’d even be sucked into the ground for good measure, you thought. No one spoke once those words had been uttered. Almost a full minute passed before the clergyman spoke again.

“Eh-em, I declare you husband and wife.”

You gulped and slowly found your head swiveling toward the man beside you. a man who was practically a stranger, a man you’d now found yourself joined to until you were parted by death. Your husband—The Duke of Hastings. When your eyes met his, you noted a look of strangled fear and disgust. His jaw was clenched, and he looked as if he were seconds away from revealing the contents of his stomach right on the front of your gown.

Long moments seemed to pass with the two of you just gazing into each other’s eyes. This was not the gazing of enamored lovers or even lustful suitors. It was the gaze of a man who’d been forced into a marriage he did not want and a woman riddled with guilt for her part in it.

“Your grace.”

Simon’s head snapped back in front of him to find the clerk holding out the book he was to sign his name into. You watched as he took the quill from the clerk and slowly signed his name. He paused after every word as if he were seriously contemplating scratching his name from the book entirely. An act that was to be seconds took a full minute, and the entire time you wondered if he would turn to you and call the whole thing off, leaving you a ruined and jilted woman.

Simon held the quill to you for your turn. As you took the object, your gloved fingers grazed his. Even though your skin did not touch his, you shivered all the same—that was before Simon snatched his hand away to drop them to his sides. You glanced down at his hand that you’d ever so softly grazed a week or two ago and watched his fist clench tightly.

“Your grace,” the clerk repeated, this time to you.

Bringing your attention back to the book in front of you, you proceeded to sign your name beside Simon’s. Instead of writing the name you’d been accustomed to your entire life—Lady Jamilla Remmington, you signed your new one for the first time—Duchess Jamilla Bassett, The Duchess of Hastings. It looked strange to your eyes, but it did not look terrible.

“Congratulations, your graces.”

The voices began to overlap as each of those in attendance for the small ceremony extended their felicitations to both of you. Neither of you could find your voices or the words to reply to even thank them. There was nothing to be thankful for, you thought. You’d traded one unhappy future for an equally unhappy one, quite possibly more unhappy as you’d just entered the very thing you’d refused to—a loveless marriage.

Thankfully leaving the church, there weren’t people outside ready to shower the newlywed couple with rose petals and cheers. Unfortunately, you had to ride in the same carriage as your new husband. Simon sat across and diagonal from you, peering out the window at the scenery. Holding your bouquet of fresh flowers while fiddling with the blush-colored silk ribbon it was tied with, you watched Simon take a flask out of his coat pocket and knock back something strong from the whiff of it that caught your nostrils. He grimaced, then groaned before he looked at you.

The way he looked at you nearly made you stop breathing, not from him taking your breath away, but from the hostility you saw in his eyes. Simon grumbled before looking from you back out the window. Your stomach fell, realizing just how severe and hopeless your fate was. For the remainder of the carriage ride, you worked to keep your eyes off of Simon. It was a task that seemed more manageable for him than you.

Every so often, your eyes found their way back to him to take in other parts of him. Either it was the way his cravat looked around his neck, and the sly way peeks of his throat could be seen through the tiny slots, or it was the way he tightly gripped the flask he held. A flask he didn’t bother to hide. He was already so unhappy with you that he didn’t care to continue the ruse of propriety for you. It was disheartening.

Simon kept his jaw firmly clenched as he watched the scenery pass, but he didn’t look as if he were looking at the rolling hills or passing farms. He appeared to be looking directly through anything that passed. This was just day one of your “new” life, and if the two of you couldn’t muster any conversation, you didn’t know what hope there was for the future.

The carriage ride from the church to your reception took all of fifteen minutes, give or take a few. You’d tried to plead with your mother to forgo the reception, stating that it was outdated and unnecessary, but your mother wouldn’t hear a word of it.

“The wedding reception is one of the joys of the beginning of a married woman’s life. It is the time she greets the ton as a Mrs. She is no longer a miss. You will get to revel in your new role in front of all the other unmarried women. The reception lets everyone wish you well while being the source of envy in their eyes.”

You sighed, hearing her words in your memory from the night before. You did not fault her. she did not know the true way your nuptials had come about. She thought you and Simon had genuinely fallen head over heels while pretending to have fallen head over heels. She did not know about what had transpired to bring the two of you to this outcome. You didn’t dare tell her.

While a loving and kind one, your mother preferred her children, mainly her daughters, to be the supreme example of propriety. She had groomed you to be nothing but a proper lady. That meant you always had a chaperone when you were going most places. You were never alone with anyone that wasn’t a woman. Your hemline was the exact number of inches deemed appropriate, as was your neckline. It also meant that your education was top of the line—well, most of your education.

You learned to read, write, do arithmetic, play the piano, do needlework, draw, paint, sing, dance, how to catch the eye of a suitor, the propriety of courting, and how to run a household for marriage. Your accomplishments could have been seen as superior, but your mother said you had to be better than average. You had to be perfect. She pushed you further, saying because your skin color was different, expectations for you to be perfect were high. So, you expanded your education to learn two languages, French and Latin. Excelled in piano and learned to play the harp. You were quite accomplished, usually more than those around you.

The part of your education that was lacking was knowledge that went past things others could see. Your mother made sure to keep any discussions of inappropriate topics away from you and your sisters, only giving you the smallest of details. She sure stressed what was inappropriate but skimmed past any other things. It was while learning about science and animals that you grasped procreation at the most basic level.

You had plenty of unmarried friends. There was Tessa Carmichael, your best friend who lived across the road, Abigail Prowler down the road on the left, Edith Bunfeld down the road on the right, and Letecia Grother, whose aunt was on the neighboring street. All of you often spent your afternoons walking around the park and gossiping about many things, including the joys and privileges of married life. None of you really knew what to expect. Of course, many unmarried ladies tried to grill the ones who were married, but they all remained tightlipped. All they did was giggle into their fans, saying, “you will find out on your own.”

Here it was, the evening of your wedding day, and you still had no idea. Your mother had assured you earlier in the day before you left home for the final time as a Miss that “The Duke will take the lead, all you must do is follow it.”

“Your grace?”

You came out of your memories to see the footman holding out his hand to assist you out of the carriage. Once you stepped out, you rearranged your dress until Simon stepped out beside you. You watched him tuck his flask in his jacket before he held his arm out for yours without even sparing you a glance. Sighing, you looped yours with his and let him lead you into the building.

Once you walked in, the first people you saw were your mother and Landy Danbury. They both had bright smiles on their faces.

“Your graces,” Lady Danbury said, dipping her head.

“Oh, you know you never have to bow your head to me—never to me,” Simon said with a fond smile on his face as he looked at Lady Danbury.

You knew his affection for the woman went deep. You weren’t entirely sure about most of it, but you knew that she’d taken care of him helped him become who he was. You’d only known him about five weeks, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to peel back the many layers of The Duke Of Hastings. You suspected you’d need a lifetime for that. A lifetime which you now had.

“Are you all right, dear?”

You plastered a smile on your face and nodded.

“Of course she is mother, she is now a duchess,” your sister Jerrikka piped up as she came over to pull you into an embrace.

“You know very well I am not the type to hold so much weight on a title,” you replied.

“Is that so? Not too long ago, I remember you bragging you were to be a Princess,” Simon dryly shot out.

You glanced at him trying to keep the glare away. You remembered the conversation you’d had where you’d uttered those words and remembered why you’d said them. You’d wanted to pointedly show him that you were desirable though he behaved as if you weren’t. Perhaps part of you wanted to enrage him or garner any reaction from him at all. He’d been so damned stoic. It was next to impossible to know what toiled in his head.

To not draw suspicion of trouble so soon after wedlock, Simon smiled at you. It almost looked like a real smile, a warm one, but his eyes remained cold—detached. He then led you into the ballroom, and as he did, all eyes floated to you. Everyone in the room held broad smiles on their faces as they dipped down into a respectful half curtsey or head bow. You and Simon both returned the gesture before the members of the ton flooded around you, each offering their happiest felicitations for your marital bliss.

You kept your back straight, face neutral, smile stretched, and hoped it shone all the way to your eyes. Your eyes always gave away whatever you were thinking or feeling. It was what you considered your fatal flaw. Your mother could hide everything behind her relaxed expression and only allow others to see what she wanted. Even, your sisters, Jerrikka and Jacinda, could remain relatively stoic, you were the one who was cursed. Your father always called you his little lightning bolt because of how quickly your emotions flashed.

By the time the congratulations finally subsided, it gave you time to take your first ever taste of Ratafia. Your mother had never allowed it. She said it was for married women. You and Jacinda had only been allowed one glass of cordial at any event. Once you’d had your one glass, it was lemonade after that.

You were standing close to the fireplace in the corner of the room. It gave you a good view of all that was happening. Simon was beside you, slightly turned away with one elbow resting on the stone of the fireplace. His stance allowed you to take in his side profile. Even standing leisurely with his other hand on his hop and one leg crossed over the other, he still looked regal. Before you thought it was conceit you sensed in him, but you’d come to see it as pride.

It wasn’t a detrimental pride or one that said he thought himself high over others. It was a different kind of pride entirely. It was one that made him more attractive in your eyes. His slim but masculine frame you’d gazed over tens of times over the last month always set your curiosities running wild. Right now, you found yourself wondering if all of him had the muscles he’d displayed two weeks ago when he rolled up his sleeves.

You hadn’t even seen your brothers in that state before. he was the first. As your eyes traveled the length of his body, you raised your glass to your lips and took a sip of the coveted Ratafia that many ladies seemed to love. Your eyes stopped at his backside, and that was where they remained. The liquid passed your lips and washed over your tongue.

The most unexpected flavor filled your mouth. It was one that was stronger than anything you’d ever tasted. As soon as you swallowed it, you began coughing. Simon’s head spun to you with a worried expression.

“Are you all right?”

Your response was another fit of coughs, which made Simon take a step toward you.

“Jemilla?”

You held up your hand as you cleared your throat once more.

“Good heavens, this is absolutely terrible.”

Simon’s eyes flittered between the glass in your hands, your face, and back to the glass. Slowly a smile spread across his lips before he pressed them together.

“Is this your first time having Ratafia?”

You nodded.

“How? Every lady in London has a Ratafia habit they think no one knows of,” he said with a smirk.

“Is that so?”

“Why yes. Look.”

He stepped to the side then nodded his head to the ladies of the ton. You looked at a few of them, and each of them brought glasses of the horrid tasting drink to their lips, including your mother, older sister, and Lady Danbury. He was right. It would seem the ladies did have a liking for the thing.

“How is it that your mother and sister drink it regularly, but you have not?”

He was facing you again with plenty of curiosity in his eyes. Needing something to do, you nearly raised the glass back to your lips—nearly.

“My mother doesn’t let any of us have this. She says it is for mature married ladies. So I did not qualify.”

Simon nodded and raised his glass of Brandy to his lips.

“I see. So, now that you are in the company of those married but not quite mature ladies, you decided to partake.”

Curiosity nipped at you now. Tilting your head to the side, you took him in.

“Married but not quite mature ladies? Pray tell what you mean by that, your grace?”

Simon didn’t attempt to speak. He just took another mouthful of Brandy and studied you with the utmost scrutiny. A hint of mischief flickered across his face before he scoffed and turned away from you, taking up his same stance from before. You could have tossed the remaining Ratafia in your glass at his back. He’d always had this uncanny ability to wind you up since the day you’d met. It still hadn’t changed. Your mother said that it was a blessing, and it would mean your marriage would not be a bore.

“It figures you would regress into a state of cowardice at the mere spark of a conversation,” you speared, knowing it would rile him up.

As expected, Simon spun around to face you but also took the three steps needed to be only inches from your face.

“Did you call me a coward?”

You fought a smile. “I wouldn’t dare, your grace.”

You knew he heard the sarcasm in your voice.

“All right, your grace, I shall educate you, but only a little. You are married, as sure as that bauble decorates your dainty finger, but just because you are married, it does not make you mature,” Simon reiterated.

You waited for him to continue, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you anxiously wanted to hear the end of his thought. Your eyes dipped lower than his to his mouth and watched him smile. That smile was something that was growing on you every time you saw it. You realized the dryness of your throat then, and you snaked your tongue out to wet your lips. His eyes dropped to your lips and stayed there for several long moments.

Simon leaned an inch closer. He could almost touch your nose with his. “You are not mature until you have woken the next morning in nothing by the bed sheets, with aches in muscles and places you never knew you could ache, and a road map of marks along your body all made with nothing but lips all from your first night with a man,” he said in the most alluring voice.

A strange feeling washed over you, and you feared you might actually swoon. Clouds seemed to fill your head as your entire body became so heated as if the fire you were standing near had caught on your body. You tried to control your expression, all the while Simon watched you. After a few seconds, Simon’s jaw clenched, making the muscles in his neck jump.

“Maturity, your grace, requires a toll be paid, and it must be paid over and over and over,” he finished. A scowl replaced his clenched jaw, and the thought that he felt disappointment made your stomach sink.

“And how many tolls have you collected, your grace?

Simon looked caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t a dignified question. One does not ask a man, even if he is her husband, such things.

“Plenty, but remember one needn’t make it an all-night occasion. Five minutes or so in a parlor could suffice.”

Jealousy hit you, and you couldn’t hide it. Simon smirked, then scoffed, but the smile slipped and was replaced with a frown.

“Well, my husband, the rake. I am surprised you wed at all.”

Simon looked pained, but you did not focus on it.

“As am I, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” He muttered it, but you heard it through. Instead of letting another emotion slip, you raised the glass to your lips and drank it all down in one agonizing and sicking move. Once finished, you walked off, leaving him there.

Mere hours into your marriage and things were already falling apart; you thought as you walked out of the ballroom and outside into the chilly night air. You took a deep breath, held it, and did it again and again. The man made you angry and flustered in under five minutes. You couldn’t help but reminisce about your time casually talking at balls and events around London while you were on the marriage mart. He’d been terse to begin with, but slowly he’d warmed to you.

You’d developed the beginning buds of a friendship that took you by surprise but was welcoming. While every man in London was trying to put their best foot forward to entice you into marriage, Simon was not. He showed plenty of his bad habits, his cynicism and preference to see the worst in people, his inability to see the true heart of those in his company, his stubbornness, his temper, and on some occasions, his rakish ways. It didn’t matter, you never judged him for it, and you could tell he appreciated it.

“My, how things have changed,” you said to yourself once you were under a wide-spanned tree sitting on the stone bench.

You closed your eyes and listened to the night, finding comfort in the chirping crickets, the sound of the wind rustling the leaves, the faint rolling of the wheels from passing carriages, all backed by the orchestral music from the ballroom. Slowly your anger subsided. You didn’t even know why you were angry. You’d known he had no plans to marry. It was one of the very first things he’d told you, and he repeated it on so many occasions it was seared to your brain. The Duke of Hastings was not in want of a wife. Yet, here you were married to him, all because of one night similar to this one.

It was your fault. You felt as if you’d left him with no other choice. You thought back to the night that had changed everything. You didn’t know what you were doing when you allowed him to cross the lines of proper distance between two unwed people. The only thing you could think about when he slowly came closer and closer was how badly you wanted to know what he smelled like underneath his cravat. For weeks the casual way he had it done with the different materials that were so much more vibrant than others always drew your attention.

In your few moments of stupor, Simon had managed to come so close you could see the small flecks of auburn within his eyes. His unexpected closeness made you swoon slightly, and his arms were there to catch you and hold you against him. It was your first time being close to a man that was not either of your brothers. Even then, there was some distance.

Simon’s hand then grazed your cheek and trailed down to your jaw before curving back to where your earlobe hung. You’d lost whatever strength your knees had and slumped against him just as his finger dipped down your neck and coming across your collar, and it was there he stopped. It took several moments for his finger to plunge lower until it dangled right above the rise of your breast. When he dipped his head down while maintaining eye contact, you began to shake in his arms. He took a deep inhale at the swell of your breast.

“You’re trembling like a leaf, are you cold?”

You shook your head slightly.

“Then what are you, Ms. Remmington?”

You could smell the brandy on his breath, but there was something else too, something you couldn’t make out.

“Quite fevered,” you whispered.

Simon took another deep inhale of your skin then moaned.

“Goodness, you smell of roses, night jasmine and--,” he inhaled again. “Orange blossom. You smell like my best dreams, Ms. Remmington.”

Your breath hitched. Simon came closer and closer until his lips hovered over yours. You should have moved and chastised him about impropriety, but you stood there while the hand that was at the middle of your back slid lower and lower until you felt his fingertips pressing into the flesh just above the swell of your bottom. The action brought your lower half firmly against his. You didn’t know what you felt, but it was something. His lips only slightly grazed yours before you’d heard voices approaching you. He’d been the one to pull away from you first and apologize profusely before he’d walked off, leaving you pressed against the wall of roses that was right behind you.

“Already hiding from your husband?”

You opened your eyes and saw your best friend, Tessa, standing there with a teasing smirk.

“Tessa.”

You began to stand, but she stopped you, sitting beside you instead.

“Your grace,” she said.

Scoffing, you bumped her with your shoulder. “Oh, stop it. Do not tease me. I am still Jemilla. I will hear no nonsense of your grace from you.”

“I know you are Jemi, but you are also a Duchess now. It would be faulty to not acknowledge it, especially in public, at least once.”

You sighed and fiddled with the new ring on your finger underneath your white gloves.

“We are not in public now. It is just you, and I so do away with it.”

“Very well.” Tessa remained quiet for a few seconds before she turned to you with an excited smile. “All right, show it to me.”

You pulled off the glove and showed her the wedding ring Simon had placed on your finger earlier in the day. Tessa gasped, grabbed your hand, and brought it closer to her face.

“Oh my. I dare say the Duke has excellent taste. It is quite beautiful. While most husbands give their wives one jewel, yours had bestowed you a bevy.”

You snorted and looked out into the night while she continued to gawk at the bauble.

“So why are you out here and your new husband nowhere in sight?”

You bit your bottom lip then looked at her. You’d told her everything that had happened between you and Simon. You’d told her the reason your engagement was so quick and that there was no love between you and him.

“Oh come, come, Jemi. I know you wanted to marry for love and desire and passion, but just because your marriage did not start that way does not mean it cannot end up there,” Tessa suggested.

“Tessa, be realistic. I have told you the things he has said about marriage. He came to town with no intent on marriage.”

“And look, he is married now, in mere weeks no less. Jemi, a man will say all sorts of things to prevent something, but from this day on, he is yours.”

It was then you thought back to his words by the fireplace.

“And how many tolls have you collected, your grace?

“Plenty, but remember one needn’t make it an all-night occasion. Five minutes or so in a parlor could suffice.”

You could have laughed out loud, but you didn’t. He hadn’t been yours before, and you doubted he was now.

“Tonight is your wedding night. Perhaps you shall feel differently in the morning,” Tessa said, a broad smile spread across her face.

You knew what she was insinuating. You had heard the chatter of a woman’s wedding night but had heard nothing of consequence. All you and Tessa were left with were speculation and plenty of possible theories and fantasies. Tessa stood and held out her arm for yours. After slipping your glove back on, you looped your arm with hers and allowed her to lead you back into the ballroom.

Once you were seen, your mother approached you and swiftly brought you towards your new husband, then enticed him to dance with you for all the ton to see. Simon, of course, complied, and the two of you drew every pair of eyes. Rather than looking directly at him, you kept your eyes somewhere neutral, somewhere that it would appear to others you were staring into his eyes.

“Remember what I said to you the first time we danced like this?”

“We’ve never danced like this, your grace.”

“You are right; our titles, or rather your title, has changed but are we not the same people?”

You fell into the trap and met his eyes.

“Are we, your grace?”

Simon peered deeply into your eyes as if he were looking for that very answer.

“I am told we have our entire lives to figure it out.”

Feeling your face beginning to shift to give away your inner feelings, you looked away, back to his ear.

“Stare into my eyes.”

They were words he’d said before, in the exact manner. You ignored his instruction, though the urge to obey pulled at your willfulness.

“Jemilla,” Simon said in a low, deep voice.

“Stare into my eyes.”

You caved and darted your eyes to his. Simon held it for a few moments.

“If this is to work, we must appear madly in love,” he said.

The words garnered almost the same reaction as it had the first time he’d uttered them. The only difference was you were well aware that appearances were not nearly all that they seemed. It had worked a little too well, and now you were married and so far from madly in love.

By the end of the evening, your feet hurt from all the walking around and dancing, and your head throbbed slightly, probably from the music and being unable to eat even one bite due to the anxiousness that had plagued you all day. After you’d said your goodbyes to your siblings, mother, and friends, you climbed into the carriage with Simon, unsure just where you were heading. You didn’t pay too much attention to the darkness outside the window because your head was too caught up in thoughts of what was to come.

You fiddled with your gloved hands, your bouquet that you’d nearly stroked all buds from all in an effort to take your mind off of things. After thirty minutes in the bumpy carriage, you saw a large tree pass by. You looked around you, trying to figure out where you were.

“Where—where are we?”

“One of my estates, Briarvale, Simon answered.

“Briarvale. I thought we were going to Clyvedon?”

“No, Clyvedon is quite far, much too far to travel tonight. Briarvale is the in-between point. We will stop, rest for the night, then continue on and should reach Clyvedon by late afternoon next.”

You nodded and lowered your eyes. “I should have made you aware of the plans before. I am afraid I am so used to consulting no one I did not stop to realize I now might have to. I apologize.”

He didn’t sound angry about it, just remorseful. Maybe he was being sincere. When the carriage stopped, the jarvey opened the door and helped you out. Some torches lit the entire walk path to the front door, where two servants were standing at either side of the door. Simon stepped out beside you and cleared his throat.

“After you, your grace.”

You walked ahead while taking in the large home before you. It was two times bigger than the one you’d spent half of your life in, and you imagined Cleyvdon would be four times larger than this one. You never imagined marrying this wealthy. Wealth was never one of your concerns at all.

“Welcome, your graces.”

You and Simon walked inside into the foyer.

“I will let you get settled,” Simon said before walking off, leaving you standing there and wondering where he was going.

One of the maids led you through the house to the stairs. As you climbed them, you took in the paintings on the wall and the wood’s shine. It was a well-kept residence. A few minutes later, the maid stopped in front of a door.

“Your room, your grace.”

“Thank you. what is your name?”

She looked surprised by your question, but she still answered. “Ingrid, your grace.”

“Thank you, Ingrid.”

She smiled and bowed her head, and waited for you to walk inside. When you did, the fire was crackling, making the large room very inviting.

“Is everything to your liking, your grace?”

You nodded. “Thank you, yes.”

Ingrid nodded, then walked out of the room, leaving you with your thoughts. You knew he would come, so you waited. You took the time to look around the room at the different paintings and objects and even examining the material of the sheets on the bed. Still, Simon hadn’t appeared. That was when your pacing began and did not stop. After pacing for quite a while, you finally stopped, then took off your shoes and waited some more. When another ten minutes passed with no Simon, you peeled off your stockings but hesitated to remove any more articles of clothing.

When you were sure you’d waited an hour more, you got annoyed and walked to the door. As soon as you opened it you saw one of the maids passing.

“Hello there.”

The young woman turned, startled, then dipped down to a bow.

“Your grace, is something the matter?”

You were embarrassed even to ask her this. “No, nothing is wrong. Have you—do you know where—has his grace retired for the evening?”

The maid gave you a curious look. No doubt she was thinking that you should know better than her. He was your husband, after all.

“Uh—no, ma’am. His grace is still in the study. Would you like me to deliver a message?”

“No! No. Thank you.”

You went back into the room, closed the door, and sighed out. She undoubtedly found it strange, and you worried you’d be the gossip of the house in the morning. You began undressing as you’d done plenty of times before then climbed into bed, leaving your petticoat on. Instead of going to sleep right away, you sat up and waited.

You didn’t know what was going on or what to expect, and that was the part that gave you the most anxiety and distress. After another hour, it was clear to see that Simon was not coming. You didn’t know what to think or feel. The very little you’d been told to expect still made no sense, especially since it hadn’t happened. Or had it? Your mother told you that your husband would take the lead. Had Simon taken the lead by staying away?

After going over it tens of times in your head, you snuffed out the candle that was on its last inch of life and lay down to stare at the upper canopy of the bed.

You were married, but his actions had proven the line was drawn, and you were on opposite sides with chasms between you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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