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#sheep reader
konigsblog · 2 months
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wolf!könig dressing up as a sheep to trick sheep!reader. the whole wolf in sheep's clothing idea :(( 🐑
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i got a request similar to this, but i think i might've accidentally deleted it. :( so here's my thots on the request, or at least what i can remember from it... 🙁
tw/cw: manipulation, non-con/dub-con, hybrid fucking, monster fucking, teasing, forced impregnating. dead dove: do not eat
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he's had his eyes on you. drool dripping from his mouth as he bares his teeth at you from afar. he can't seem to control the way his lengthy cock hardens, twitching at the sight of a little sheep from afar. only a thin pair of light blue, cotton panties covers your body, leaving you vulnerable in the eye's of könig.
so instead, he dressed as a sheep. of course, he had to kill off one of the sheep in the farm for his costume, so he could trick the dumb, ditzy sheep into getting close. slowly, he approached you. he watched as you chewed on the grass, too stupid to realise he approaching you. he's surprised at your naivety; how easy it was to lead you away from the farm, into the woods, so he could push your head down into the leaves and branches and rape you brutally.
he listened to the soft squeals and whimpers, his claws digging into your soft skin, getting tangled in your curly fur as he pounded into you. your cunt drooled around him instinctively. of course, you didn't want this — none of it. but, god, your body betrayed you and reacted regardless of your fear and tears, causing you to squirt and cum all down his meaty shaft. the sight of könig was beyond terrifying, finally coming to the realisation that this wasn't another sheep, but your biggest fear, taking advantage of your stupidity and vulnerability.
wolf!könig dug his sharp canines into your soft neck, growling and snarling at you for wriggling and squirming, all while humping his bulbous, aching cock over your cunt, between your slick folds and against your sensitive, needy clit.
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bones-of-a-rabbit · 9 months
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i hereby present, the au i thought i would never actually do anything with bc i thought it up purely bc i like fairytales and drawing critters and didnt think anything through beyond that: the Sheep-Reader x Wolves-Sun/Moon au!
where Reader is a small, somewhat outcast sheep from a small isolated Sheep Town in the North who has always had dreams to finding some nice friendly town in the South where they could settle down and sell their wares- clothes, trinkets, and accessories made from their own wool! One day they meet two 'sled dogs' that have been wandering almost their whole lives, doing odd jobs here and there, and, inspired by the friendly one's stories and genuine kindness, they hire the two to be their guides/bodyguards on their journey to the South! The world was much too big and dangerous for one sheep to travel on their own, afterall; even if some hungry stranger didn't attack the sheep, the loneliness of the journey would surely end them on its own. But now, with two new friends at their side and hope in their heart, dear sheep-Reader is more than ready to make their dream a reality <3 (the two sled dogs r not sled dogs) (they're wolves) (lol)
BIG THANKS TO @rainbowcat-writing FOR ACTUALLY FLESHING OUT THIS AU WITH ME LOL I'D DIE FOR U THANK U ILY
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hunnieknight · 1 year
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"Horny?I'm not horny I AM MAD"(+Art)
●Horn gang exclusive {Itto , Ganyu, Yanfei(i know she has antlers not horn)} x sheep reader
《Sheep reader is going through rut/heat, but instead of horny, you just want to headbutt and fight everyone》
Sheep reader (with horn), you are full of hormones, angry hormones, implied chubby reader, suggestive and feral, self-indulge because i like sheep, tons of word headbutt, non-establish relationship, mention of marking and branding
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Itto
10/10 will headbutt you too
But his gang has to stop him because they know Itto will crush you.
Will let you headbutt and bite him because he feels nothing.
Will also let you headbutt Ushi because Ushi is one hell of a bull.
Since you got no reaction from him, perhaps if you fight someone else it will satisfy your urge to fight.
That's when Itto step in and grab your attention just to keep you away from danger. It is easy, he just need to pat your head harder than usual and your body just automatically headbutt him and chases him.
He is actually responsible for once..wow
But sometimes he does thinking some ways to make you calm, nothing seems to be working.
Fucking you may be the answer tho
He can't help it!! All these hormones in the air from you just starting to get into him!! Not to mention how your body just jiggle everytime you headbutt his hard back. He just want to grab you by the waist and pin you down.
And the way you pout and baa at him whenever Itto playfuly mock you? Archons, he thinks you aren't the only one who need a release at this point.
Sometimes he indulge you and him by playing rough house with you and pin you down on your stomach, sheep fights for dominance right? If he shows you who is the boss here you will stop right?
At first, you will thrash around to escape. Sheeps are suppose to headbutt each other! Not pin the others down like a prey! You are full of energy, start throwing your limbs around and bleat loudly. Then you start to hear a deep growl and a low "Stay down" from Itto.
Itto never heard the softest baa in his life coming from this plump lamb under him.
He also just realized how his pants seems too tight for comfort.
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Ganyu
"Hey hey *whistle* (Name) eat this snow instead" will be heard all the time.
She knows when your rut/heat coming close, she is a goat and sheep and goats are similar after all. When she feels it is about time, she took a week off and rushes to your house.
Will make a block of ice just to help you relieve the urge to headbutt everything, but she prefers you to not hurt yourself and offers you snow.
She kept you in your house, a minimalist house enough for 2 people but with a big backyard. She will do all the cooking since you are too angry to even take care of yourself.
She has to let you tire yourself out by chasing after her snow flower (her skill) and by the time you are exhausted, she can approach you and take care of you
Which include bathing
Archons, how come she can keep her hands to herself when your chubby body just thrashing around in her hold, she just wants to take you in for a bath. She will grope and grab every bit of you in the name of "you will fall!"
Surprisingly you are quite docile in water, maybe because Ganyu used her skill to cool the water. She uses this chance to clean you up and touch your plump body.
By the night's end, you are well-fed, clean, and tired; BUT not satisfied. You can't help it weakly punch Ganyu and rub your horn against hers, just to FEEL a fight.
NO NO NO NO NO! HER HORNS ARE SENSITIVE!! YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT!!
She already indulges you with all these sheep's problems...you can satisfy her beast's need too right?
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Yanfei
"FIGHT ME! YAN! YAN!! FIGHT ME!!
She won't even look at you. She isn't going to use her vision unless necessary, and you going into a rut/heat and basically becoming hostile with anything isn't a 'necessary' thing.
How come she got into this predicament? Oh yeah...she just happens to see Hu Tao trying so hard to control you. It seems you are trying to...fight a boar??
Now, you are in her private room in her office, trying to chew your way out of the blanket wrapped around you. It's cute though, your cheeks are full of you trying to eat the blank-WHY ARE YOU GAGGING?!
She will try to relieve your stress by directing you to headbutt Noctilucous Jade around Liyue. You got stress relief, she got Jades! If it is in her office though, your horns will be plugged by foam
But if she has to work, you will be locked in her personal room. If a client walks into her office, they will hear bleats coming from a door behind Yanfei. She will just shrug it off as owning a bratty sheep, she isn't wrong.
Since she has antlers, Yanfei can't exactly headbutt backs at you. Deer fight also quite different from sheep. They fight over a doe or partner, not for dominance, why would she fight someone she considers her partner?
If you are being too bratty to control, she will use her pyro infused hand as a warning. Her hot touch reminded you there is a half adepti deer that take care of you now. Which usually back fire because your hormones screams "FIGHT FIGHT" and you end up trying to headbutt her again.
Seeing you fell asleep worth it though. You just all calm and docile on the bed, surrounded by pillows. Your plump cheeks squished against the soft pillow. Snoring away like you didn't just try to bite her hours ago.
Sheeps like you will become satisfied after establish dominance right?
What if she does that first?
Her hands softly squeezing your tummy..imagining her sigil mark on you. She didn't realize her hand heated up with pyro until you squirm in discomfort and softly bleats in your sheep. She almost brand you as hers.
One day.. one day your rut/heat will be just focusing on creating little sheeps around
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years
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Yay requests are open!!! Could I please get Cagney x sheep reader where he slowly befriends reader and falls in love. Then he learns the reader's dad is the devil (but they're completely different from their dad and is a sweetheart!) And learns they hid who they were because they didn't want him to hate them
When you first meet Cagney, he's in his "cute" form and asks what you're doing in his garden.
To his surprise, you’re just there to admire the flowers, even bringing water for them.
He’s used to scaring off trespassers, but bc you're so kind he welcomes you back to the garden whenever you want.
He does show you his actual form and his snarky attitude. Neither deter you from becoming his friend.
Then as time goes on, you both start to catch feelings for one another.
Cagney's garden friends notice and tease him for being in love (to which he just huffs and tugs his petals, flustered bc he knows they're right).
So one sunny day, he springs up into your backyard with a bouquet and a (rather awkward) confession.
But you accept! 
You did love the handsome and charming flower with all your heart, though you had a secret that you kept from most residents of Inkwell.
That being..the one Cagney and many others sold their souls to was none other than your father: Devil.
As he ranted to you about being double-crossed, you could only frown in worry. Not only because of the debt he was in, but because of how much scorn he had for your father and how he’d rip him apart in a heartbeat.
You’ve seen him become more irrational, more violent, more territorial..especially when one of Devil’s henchmen find you and ask you to return to Hell.
Cagney practically yeets them out of his garden before looking at you and asking why they said it was your "home".
Regretfully, you tell him the truth. You’re Devil’s family, but you swear on your life that you’re nothing like him and don’t ever want to be like him.
That’s why you lived on the surface for so long, haven't said a word about your bloodline, and refused to visit the casino..no matter how much it enticed you or your friends.
Cagney’s confused and hurt, nearly throwing a big fit, but he soon understands why you’d separate yourself from that fiend.
He reassures you that he doesn't hate you at all.
You try telling him that you could convince your father to return his soul--though he’s worried about losing the power he was given.
And he admits he gambled for it so he could protect both his garden and you.
But if Devil were to ever come back and claim his contract, he’ll fight tooth and leaf to defend you.
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bernraccnt · 2 years
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mario kart wii (wolf x gn! sheep! reader x snake)
before u read: swearing, implied age gap between reader and the other two, reader referred to as sheep rather than y/n, (name), etc., reader also hinted to being gen z, gamer rage
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“get the fuck out of town.” sheep had muttered, eyes wide as they glanced between their two partners. “you’re fucking lying.”
meanwhile, their boyfriends exchanged incredulous glances. snake kept pouring sugar into his coffee mug, unsure on what their partner was making a big deal out of. “what? we’re being honest, we’ve never played the wii before.”
“how could you have NEVER played the wii?!” the sheep animal was nearly snapping their neck as they rapid fire shot their head between the two others. “super smash bros brawl, just dance, metroid prime? you haven’t played any of them?”
this time, wolf snickered at them, taking a bite out of his breakfast platter. “pfft, what do you take us for? we were in high school when it released, doll, it’s not like we didn’t have better things to do.”
“other than pickpocketing people, of course.” snake interjected, attempting to mix the pile of sugar into his hot coffee.
“right, right.” both men exchanged a look of reminiscing, remember the days they would relax around their hometown after robbing the nearest grocery store or infiltrating a rich person’s house. they never even considered playing video games when they could do better and more entertaining things in real life.
when they turned to sheep, they were giving the two of them the biggest stink eye known to man. to their credit, sheep could be intimidating when genuinely angry, but all their boyfriends had thought was how adorable they looked with their eyebrows furrowed.
“what about when piranha and webs showed up? didn’t you see them playing video games?” remembering that they still hadn’t even started on their breakfast, sheep moved to start eating their omelet. “no one fps, adventurer, rpg? not even a phone game?”
“oh, there was that one time we saw webs playing a first person shooter.” wolf spoke through a mouthful of pancake, holding up a finger and wagging it around. “what was it... call of... d, it started with a d--”
“call of duty--”
“call of duty!” wolf snapped his fingers, before thanking sheep for reminding him. “yeah, she got real nasty on that game. calling people pussies, telling people their mom should’ve aborted them. she even doxed someone on there. it was an awkward dinner that night for the rest of us.”
snake nudged sheep’s leg under the table with a proud smile. “nah, i was happy to see webs that unhinged. made me real proud of her.” a few chuckles were exchanged around the table.
sheep was quick to move the conversation back on topic, wiping their mouth clean of their food’s crumbs. “no, but that’s crazy. i mean, i literally came home from school every day just to play the wii, i can’t believe y’all haven’t even touched one before!” sheep sat up, trying to recount their favorite memories. “oh man, i used to sit there for hours on mario kart. i got so good that none of the kids on my street even considered playing with me after a while and i had to only play online--”
both wolf and snake simply ate their breakfast in silence, smiling as their significant other began to go on a ramble about their experiences on their favorite game.
years ago, if you would’ve asked either former criminal if they would consider adding a third person to their relationship, let alone one as excitable yet law abiding as sheep, they both would’ve laughed in your face and robbed you of everything you owned. sheep was so far out of what they considered their type was, they were just another average civilian in the city. not at all the kickass crook wolf seemed to be drawn to or the soft lover snake found himself hoping for. then again, they were dating each other before meeting sheep, so that honestly threw out any prior types they had out the window.
they had met their white furred lover shortly after they had been pardoned out of prison. they had gone out for groceries one weekday and saw sheep in the cereal aisle, holding handfuls of coupons and dumping every single cereal they could into their cart. they were so domestic, wolf practically was attracted at first sight. their little smirk on confidence as they did something so mundane drew him to a conversation with them.
snake was a little harder to come around, he had his fair share of interacting with prey and after professor marmalade, he wasn’t too keen befriending another. but, when the sheep gushed over his choice of red hawaiian shirt and offered to help him pick out a cheaper coffee brand when he offhandedly mentioned how expensive his favorite was, his walls came crashing down far faster than he liked to admit.
so, that’s why both men were staring at the young sheep like they were the most amazing sight, even though all they were doing was ranting about an online player that had bested them on their favorite map back in their younger years.
seeing as sheep could go on for hours if no one interrupted them, snake leaned forward and shoved their plate closer to them. “why don’t you save your breath and finish your food, pumpkin? we still have the rest of the day to ourselves.” and he was right. all three had miraculously gotten today off from work and wanted to spend it with one another.
“right, sorry.” sheep flushed in the face, scooping in another mouthful of the egg-y goodness. “i-- i don’t know, i just forgot how good of a game it was.” they shrugged.
wolf’s fingers drummed against the diner’s table and he glanced around. unlike in the past, no one had batted an eye at the sight of himself and snake sitting inside. “well, maybe we should play it sometime. you said it was a racing game, right?” his yellow eyes crinkled happily when sheep nodded. “i wouldn’t mind doing that. i mean, i’m the city’s best driver, how hard could it be?”
after finishing their breakfast, the three partners left the diner and started for wolf’s super expensive and probably not legally bought car, excited for the movie they had planned on watching today. snake and wolf took the front two seats, unaware of sheep in the backrow texting their family’s group chat with a simple question.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: hey guys is the wii still in the attic? if so, could someone ship it and all the games to me?
it would be another week before snake and wolf got a text from sheep, asking them if they would be free that night. seeing as wolf had finished his shift at the bar earlier that afternoon and snake didn’t have work until tomorrow evening, they both agreed. ultimately unaware of what was to come.
when snake unlocked sheep’s front door with the key he was given and opened it, both he and wolf exchanged a glance at the now hearable music coming from sheep’s living room. it was upbeat, something they didn’t recognize sheep ever listening to before.
“doll? you in here?” wolf decided to shout inside as he took off his shoes by the door.
“in the living room!” sheep replied, causing both boyfriends to make their way further inside.
they were greeted by the widest smile they had seen on sheep in a while as they craned their neck from their spot on the couch, an oddly shaped controller in their hands and an unfamiliar title screen on their semi-large tv. “sit down, sit down!” unlike usual when they would green the men with kisses on their cheeks, the sheep snatched snake and wolf into sitting on either side of them.
“oh god, is this that mario kart thing you were talking about?” wolf snorted, grinning when the title screen flashed the words mario kart wii on the tv. “i admire your dedication, i know the wii is basically outdated by now.”
snake suddenly looked over, eyes wide. “pumpkin, did you buy a wii just for us to play it?” he was mildly concerned but also really touched at the lengths their partner would go to have them experience things they enjoyed.
noticing the mood softening, sheep saw up with a half laugh. “no, no, no! i asked my family if they kept it and they shipped it up here for me.” snake’s soft look didn’t disappear and now, even wolf looked at them in appreciation. sheep began to fluster. “wh-- but-- guys, c’mon, it’s just a few pixels on the screen. it’s not like i took you on a five star date.”
wolf slung his arm over sheep’s shoulder and cupped it around snake, pulling all three of them into an embrace. “but you still went into the effort to get this game and have us experience something you love.” he cooed into their ear, playing up his sincere feelings to get a reaction out of them.
snake curled the end of his tail around sheep’s arm, his own subtler form of a hug. “yeah, that’s really nice of you. you’re too good for us, pumpkin.”
“i’m going to launch you both out of my window if you don’t stop.” sheep spoke through gritted teeth, trying their hardest not to die from all the affection their boyfriends had decided to bless them with.
both men burst out laughing, apologizing through laughs as their lover pouted at the teasing. while wolf was cackling and snake was hitting the couch like he had heard the funniest joke ever, sheep simply picked up the other two wii remotes on the table and turned them on, deciding to get this shit show over with.
the mayhem died down after a while and snake and wolf turned their eyes to the screen, where sheep had picked their account and picked out a 100cc grand prix. they now were on the character selection screen.
“does it matter what character we pick?” snake asked, picking up the remote and adjusting it in his tail. he turned it sideways after glancing at how sheep held it.
wolf didn’t catch onto the proper way to hold the controller, prompting sheep to turn it for him. “not really?” sheep hummed. “i mean, the characters have weights and that affects how well you can control them, but it doesn’t matter in the long run.”
three columns of characters popped up, each more ridiculous than the last. wolf’s eyes popped open and he leaned forward to make sure he wasn’t seeing it wrong. “you can play as a dragon?!”
“yeah, that’s good ol’ bowser. he’s the major bad guy of the series.” that was all snake needed to hear and he instantly picked the spiked dragon/turtle without a second thought. his speed made wolf and sheep start giggling as they looked over their choices.
“i guess i’ll be... waluigi.” pleased with himself, wolf turned to look down at sheep. “who’re you picking, baby?”
“well, as a kid, i played baby mario, but i think i’ll change it up for once.” sheep moved their selector over mario. “i have grown up.”
“pfft.”
“that you have.” all three snickered like the geeks they were, as the next selection screen appeared, this time for karts. after all sticking to the first kart that appeared and all picking automatic drifting, they were finally on the circuits list.
“alright, boys, what’re we feeling?” leaning back against the couch, sheep watching as the two looked over their choices.
ever the egotistical man, wolf peered down with a smirk. “which one’s the hardest?” which caused snake to glare heavily across the couch.
“wolf, c’mon, we haven’t played this before!” he complained.
“i know, i know, but we’ll be fiiine. we were criminal masterminds, what can a little racing game even do?”
“...fuckinnng, fine.” snake gave in, turning his head back to the tv. “whatever, fuck it.”
wolf winked at his partner slumped against the couch. “go ahead, do your worst.”
and so, sheep sat up and picked out the lightning cup on the far right, desperately stifling whatever evil smile wanting to show itself on their face. they decided to show mercy and explained how to play the game properly to the men, just in time as the beginning of the race fanfare played, showcasing the snes mario circuit 3.
it was snake in tenth, wolf in eleventh, and sheep in twelfth right off the bat. wolf had made a joke about sheep being used to last place but it fell upon deaf ears as the countdown began.
both snake and wolf jolted when as soon as the race started, their partner had blasted past them and jumped from dead last to fifth.
“you’re cheating!” snake gasped, squinting when sheep let out a few evil giggles. “there’s no way you’re not!”
“what kind of pro reveals all their tricks?” sheep shot back, smacking into the first item box of the game. the two other animals were not that far behind.
as the race continued, wolf and snake quickly realized that this wasn’t just a simple racing game, oh no. this game had items, some that track people, others that hit everyone else besides yourself, and some that didn’t make sense to either of them. and even the ai racers were ruthless, making sure that they hit both men in attempts to keep them in the back.
sheep couldn’t help their smug grin when they had successfully taken first place, seeing as wolf was struggling his ass off in sixth place and snake was cursing up a storm, still in tenth place despite two laps having passed.
“what kind of sadist makes a game like this-- FUCK!” snake yelled as he was hit by a bullet bill.
“that is HORSE SHIT!” wolf roared when he was hit by two red shells in a road, successfully knocking him back three places.
“aw, you guys are one after the other.” sheep cooed like it was something adorable and wasn’t caused by their lack of skill.
it only served more fuel to the fire when the race had ended, leaving sheep at the very top of the leaderboard and their partners lingering near the bottom spots. both of them were glaring at their relaxed demeanor and all parties involved were now aware of the competitive air rising among them.
ds peach gardens wasn’t any easier, but snake and wolf had begun adjusting to the game mechanics, able to hit more enemies and even being behind sheep at one point in the race. that was before sheep had tactically thrown a bob-bomb, stunning the both of them while they made their escape.
“oh you little--!” snake was fully immersed in the gameplay, not liking losing one bit. no, he’d rather eat his old skin that admit defeat, especially to his starry eyed lovers. “you’re a god damn piece of shit, sheep!”
“l + ratio, old man.” sheep was enjoying themselves immensely, laughing super hard when they took a quick glance at wolf’s little screen and saw him get sniped by a green shell and knocked into a chain chomp. “bro, you guys BOTH suck.”
“FUCK YOU!” they spoke in unison, blood pressure rising every passing second they spent on the game.
the third map, gcn dk mountain, had been the easiest so far. with wide turns and a pretty simple layout, neither men had a hard time driving like the previous maps. because of this, they climbed up the ranks steadily and had ended that race in third and fifth respectively.
“i’m coming for your spot, you asshole.” wolf sneered, mostly playfully. he wanted nothing more than to knock his partner out of first, especially when they had begun to shit talk the way they drove.
“not with your nineteen points you’re not.” sheep howled, pointed a finger at the screen. “you’re barely above half the coms, what makes you think one first place will make you win?”
“start the next race!” snake was getting impatient from the banter, barring his teeth at both of his lovers. 
“yeah, yeah, yeah, hold yourself together, twink.” wow, this game was easily bringing out the worst in all of them.
any hopes of knocking sheep out of first place was crushed the second both men were inside of the n64 bowser’s castle. with lava everywhere and a lack of safety rails, they had spent more time being picked up by lakitu than actually racing.
“FUCK YOU AND YOUR LIGHTNING, TOADETTE!” wolf’s voice was going hoarse by how loud he was getting and sheep just kept laughing and laughing, having the time of their life. “STUPID FUCKING POLKA DOTTED WHORE, PINK BITCH--”
“EVERYONE GETS A BULLET BILL EXCEPT FOR ME?” snake was in twelfth, watching as the three coms in front of him all got the aforementioned item and left him in the dust. given up, snake turned his anger to sheep. “YOUR GAME FUCKING SUCKS!”
sheep had tears in their eyes, laughing so hard as they crossed the finish line without much trouble. it was further enhanced when wolf let out a pained yell as he drove off the side of the map, going from sixth place to eleventh in just a few seconds.
the results were in and sitting in first with sixty points was none other than sheep themself, their boyfriends left in the dust and coming in eighth and tenth. sheep was rolling on the floor, losing their mind as snake dissolved into an angry rant about how unfair and stupid the game was.
it took a few more minutes for snake to get everything off of his chest and for sheep to get back on the couch, wiping their face dry with a laugh every now and then. it was silent for a few moments, only the ambient mario kart music making noise in the room.
wolf stood up, pulling out his phone and walking to the kitchen. “i’m ordering dominoes. fuck you, sheep.”
sheep let out a long wheeze.
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the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects ; suguru geto
synopsis; when the king puts you under the supervision of a dashing knight, you promise to make his job as difficult as possible. unfortunately, suguru geto is the patient sort.
word count; 21.1k (this accidentally turned into a novella idk how it happened either nobody look at me 💔)
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, knight!sugu x royalty!reader, royalty au (not accurate to any time period ever), technically a bodyguard au, slowburn, reader is a brat and suguru likes it a little more than he should, reader also has thinly veiled daddy issues, protective sugu :3, he goes feral in one part (descriptions of violence and bloodshed), reader gets briefly kidnapped lol, very fluffy overall though!!, includes shifting povs & time-skips, also lots and lots of devotion, knight!sugu is real & beautiful & loves you specifically <33
a/n; HAPPY late BDAY SUGU MY BABY THE LOVE OF MY LIFE this fic has been in the works for a WHILE now and means a lot to me much like sugu himself :’3 dedicated to my beloved @kissxcore for infecting me w this concept & also my dear @mossmurdock for bringing knight!sugu into my life, both of u have made the brainrot infinitely worse and i will never be free (and ofc @softgirlgonehaywire & @dollsuguru & @jtkys for being the sweetest always) I LOVE U ALL!!!!!!!!
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like most things, it begins and ends with a dream.
images form in the depths of your subconscious, wild and vivid, splattering on the canvas of your mind. a dream of cold metal, dark thickets, iron-scented skin — and a knight. 
(or… a wolf?)
before you is a small clearing. trees sprout from the rugged grounds, blooming proudly, clogging up the wool-coated sky. all around you lie empty, discarded suits of armor, dirty with rust and something that smells of death. wilted sunflowers stumble under their own weight, and dragonflies buzz in a frenzy, manic, driven to hysteria. in the distance you think you hear the shrieking of ravens.
and there’s a knight, just ahead, tall and imposing, covered in steel from head to toe. holding a blinding sword, facing the sky, doing nothing to stop the pitter patter of raindrops ricocheting off his burganet. you stand by the entrance of the woods, and watch him in silence. 
he looks a little lonely. 
and in comes the wolf. gracious, growling, big and bad, snarling and showing off the white of its fangs. dragging its claws against the ground, unruly fur ruffled by the harsh breeze; widening its maw, a silent fury on its tongue. from this angle, it looks a little like a grin.
the wolf begins to chase the knight. or maybe it’s the knight chasing the wolf — you can’t really tell. they run in circles around each other, like the sun and the moon, an orbit of violence, matching their steps. almost in harmony — almost, but not quite, because suddenly they’re closing in on you, great and ugly, beasts wearing different hides, and —
and that’s when you wake up.
”your highness!” 
a groan pushes past your lips, groggy with fatigue, and your eyelids flicker open like the drawing of a flimsy curtain. a series of mismatched little blinks, until your vision clears. 
above you waits a familiar face; impatient. one of the maids, your foggy brain tells you. and she isn’t pleased.
but all you do is drag your limbs up to cover your pillow-creased face, sluggishly, muttering beneath your breath. ”a wolf…”
silence. 
the maid tilts her head, with a furrow of her brows. 
”… excuse me?”
”there was a wolf,” you echo, a dreamy exhale muffled against the skin of your palm. stifling a yawn. ”and a guy… he was cool.” 
she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. settling back into her usual rhythm. mildy berating. ”did you have another one of your dreams?” she asks, a little irritated, and for a second you think you hear a tick-tock ticking down. ”at any rate — you need to get up. the king and queen demand your presence.”
ah. of course.
a huff, displeased, even as you force yourself into a sitting position. stretching your limbs like a grumpy feline. ”demands…” you murmur, a click of your tongue. ”they think they can just wake me up whenever they want? at the crack of dawn?”
”it’s 11 a.m, your highness.”
”early as hell,” you rasp, willfully tuning out her murmur of mind your language. letting your legs hang off the bed. ”what do they want, anyway?”
following your silent cue, she hums, walking towards the edge of the room. picking up your discarded blouse, and bringing it to you. ”i was told it was of utmost importance,” is all she says, lifting the fabric as if getting ready to dress you.
”i can do that myself,” you hiss, snatching the white silk from her outstretched hands. as always, she does nothing but sigh, sigh, sigh. it’s all they ever do. ”i’m not a toddler.”
from your position, still cozied up in bed, on messy sheets and fluffy pillows — you can see the view beyond your translucent window’s glass. a sky so gray it’s almost comforting, dark clouds forming in the distance, silently ruminating. when the maid pushes it open, and a cold breeze slips through the gap, you can smell the rain; heavy, earthy, daffodils and oak wood. in the distance, sunflower fields seek shelter from the downpour. 
but your eyes remain glued to the woods. far ahead, but still close enough to see — the woods you long for. the ones you’ll never get to see up close. 
a bitter taste blooms on your tongue. 
(spitefully, your teeth sink into the tender flesh of your bottom lip.)
”fine,” comes a heavy sigh, ruefully resigned. forcing yourself into compliancy. before you can change your mind, you hop off the mattress, running your fingers through tousled strands of hair. ”i’ll go see them.”
and she brightens, visibly, disapproving frown smoothed away with the breeze. for now. ”thank you. they are worried, i’ll have you know.”
a scoff, as you cross the threshold of your private quarters. humorous. ”i bet they are.” 
”your highness,” she calls, following close behind. her tone is reprimanding, now; you will yourself not to shrink. ”we almost lost you.”
”i almost got kidnapped,” you huff. ”not the same thing.”
again, that exasperated sigh. it’s a wonder her lungs haven’t run out of air. ”do you have any idea who that man was?” 
the question makes your mind still. shifting gears, a clockwork coming to life, repeating it inside your head — do you have any idea who that man was? 
”… he was hot.”
sigh. you hear it before it comes, and raise your lips on instinct. 
”no, i mean it!” you ensure her, throwing a fleeting glance behind you. ”he just had that rugged look about him, you know? the scar and everything…” a blissful little exhale, as you gush over your would-be killer. ”what a waste. if only he had gotten away.”
”with you in tow?” the maid quips, raising a brow. her words are steeped in irony.
”of course!” another disapproving glance. ”i mean, did you see those biceps —”
”behave.”
with a flutter of your puffy sleeves, you turn around to face her. and ah — there it is. the hardness of her jaw, those frosty pupils, the impending signs of her dwindling patience. you can see it, hear it, that eerie tick-tock signaling the breaching of her limit. all humans have one; a clockwork heart, of sorts, ticking down to the moment they run out of leftover kindness to give unruly heirs. 
over the years, you’ve gotten expertly good at making the clock tick quicken. a skill you’re very proud of.
”and what if i don’t?” you bite back, just barely restraining your growing grin. delighted at the attention. ”he had nice biceps! what, am i not allowed to tell the truth?”
and the tick-tock quickens. she stills, just behind you, hands on her hips. frustration bubbling beneath her sharp syllables. ”my god, you are impossible today!”
for a moment, you stop to look at her. weighing your options. should you reel it back in, try and appease her? or keep pushing? the answer, as always, is push. it’s all you’ll ever do.
so you turn on your heel, and take a step forward, a spiteful grin curved into your lips. ”deal with it, or leave.” a beat. ”i don’t remember asking you to accompany me.”
before you round the corner, your ears pick up on one final harsh sigh. she makes no move to follow you.
(hmph.)
”where is your maid?”
in front of you stands a throne, proud and luxurious, polished marble, two seats right next to each other. the quarters of the royal pair are the same as always, vivid paintings hanging from every wall in sight, wolf pelts thrown over tables and windowsills. the scent of dried lavender seeps through the air, suffocating you. 
and, of course, the king. speaking to you with the same judgemental voice as always; one you’ve grown painfully accustomed to. 
”i wanted her to get me breakfast,” is the lie you decide on, finely tailored in white. just to make sure she doesn’t get into any actual trouble. ”you didn’t exactly give me time to eat any.”
the king sighs, mild disappointment laced into the breath. nothing new. when he says your name, it comes out sounding like a bad joke. ” — you aren’t a child anymore. one day you’ll be ruling this kingdom; forcing the maids to do your bidding won’t win you any favours.” 
”mhm.” absently, you fidget with the sleeves of your blouse. not quite listening. ”so, what did you want? it’s not often i’m allowed here.”
an evil glint shines in your eyes, for a moment. you cast a meaningful glance at the maid by your father’s side — his personal favorite. 
”don’t you have, ah…” you taste the words on your tongue. ”more pressing matters to attend to?”
he doesn’t flinch. as always, he pretends not to know that you know — that everyone knows. 
yet he still gives you that cold, cold look, colder than the howls of wind beyond the castle walls, cold enough to send a shiver down your spine. it makes you want to push, push, push. break the clockwork in half.
but he’s wise enough to follow your lead. “let me get to the point, then,” he cranes his neck, showing off the fox pelt snug around his shoulders. ”the queen and i thought it best to hire a new knight for you.”
you blink. eyelashes fluttering. all you can hear is the pitter patter of rain against the windowpane.��
then you groan.
”another one?” you whine, barely resisting the urge to stomp your feet on the floor. ”please, no. it’s such a pain getting rid of them. you know they won’t last long!”
”we aren’t talking about any ordinary knight,” he tuts, as monotone as ever. ignoring your little temper tantrum. ”after what happened with toji zenin, we aren’t taking any chances.”
you tilt your head. confused, for a moment. ”toji?” the gears of your mind turn, clicking into place; zenin. a family of assassins, a man with a scar on his bottom lip. ”ohhh — the hottie.”
your father pretends not to hear you. 
”it was a close call,” he hums, and you muster the strength not to crack another joke about his biceps. it takes restraint. ”we need someone who can protect you properly. indefinitely, from even the stealthiest of assassins. so…”
your eyes meet his. gazes overlapping, the same colour, one above and one below. he’s always, always towered over you. for as long as you remember. 
that is what royalty means — absolute dominion. 
(it makes you want to curl into a ball.)
”today, you’ll be meeting with the greatest knight.” he says the words with an odd sense of pride, an inner satisfaction. ”he’ll be here any moment. i thought it best for you to get acquainted as soon as possible.”
a moment passes. you’re broken out of your bout of compliance, like a rubber band snapping. a clock tick quickening. ”wait, what?” you gape. ”father —”
”your majesty.” 
the correction is stern. gritting your teeth, you force the words from out your throat. ”… your majesty,” there’s a slight grumble to your voice, ”what the hell? now? i haven’t even —”
”you have no choice in this matter,” he cuts you off. coldly, coldly, coldly. ”behave, and there won’t be any complications.”
behave.
behave, behave, behave. it’s all they ever want from you.
(you might as well be a pet.)
the queen is silent, as always. eerily so, not saying a word, like a puppet on a string. she hasn’t looked you in the eye even once so far, not even a passing glance. not like you’d expect her to. her clockwork heart stopped beating for you a long time ago. 
automatons, the both of them. making decisions for you, like there isn’t a sliver of rational thought in your brain. how irritating.
you’re just about to part your lips, when —
”… am i interrupting?”
you still.
a velvety voice. silky, smooth, tailored by the finest seamstress — tucked between the slightest raspy vowel, a hint of something deeper. it sounds like honey, wine, a molten mass of spring clouds. 
the king ahead of you brightens, suddenly, lips curling up into a smile. it looks almost warm; you didn’t know he was capable of making that kind of expression. ”ah, suguru!” he calls out to the source of the noise. ”no, certainly not. forgive me for the short notice.”
when you turn around, you see a knight.
he’s beautiful. gorgeous, even. fair skin, sharp facial features, no scars to be seen. a sword hangs in a scabbard by his hip, and he’s wearing a set of armor, still glistening with the aftermaths of the rain beating down outside. his hair cascades down the metal like a black river, loose and silky, a single strand obscuring his pretty face. and his eyes are a soothing shade of brown; you’re almost certain they’d look warm, if there was any sunlight to engulf them. as it is, in the shadow of a murky spring morning, they’re a dark cedar, almost obsidian. but they look kind. 
and they’re fixed on the king. he’s smiling, too, a dangerous little tilt. disgustingly charming. he hangs his head in a bow, hand on his heart — reverent.
(ah. he’s one of those knights.)
”my king,” the strange knight greets, tongue wrapping around the vowels like a dragon curling around a pile of gold. ”not at all. i’m always grateful for an opportunity to see you.”
(oh god. it’s even worse than you thought.)
”i should say the same of you,” the king echoes, with a warmth that you’re wholly unaccustomed to. your stomach churns, swirling with discomfort. ”our nation’s pride and joy.”
the knight chuckles; muffled by his closed fist. he’s feigning embarrassment, you can tell. ”you flatter me,” he purrs, words flowing smoothly from his lips. too smoothly. ”i’m simply doing my duty as one of your subjects. but, needless to say — i’m honoured to have earned your respect.”
finally, his gaze shifts to you. and you think he must notice how disgusted you are, the reproach you feel for him, that silent contempt. because you aren’t trying to hide it; it’s there, clear as day, in the crease of your brow, your frosty pupils. lips pursed, like they’re aching to bare and to bite.
but he continues to smile. warm, still, like a mellow summer breeze. a well of pizzicato drops.
you feel a little nauseous.
”ah, and you must be the royal heir?” a tilt of his head, knowing. a shimmer of recognition painted in those ashen eyes. ”or should i say…. my liege.” 
he walks towards you, in long strides, slow and steady, only to get down on one knee. ew. ”forgive me; my name is suguru geto. your knight, from this day forth.” his palm unfurls, cedar eyes crinkling with feigned endearment. holding it out towards the subject of his newfound devotion. ”i’m delighted to finally meet you.”
(suguru geto. you’ve heard of him, of course. who hasn’t?)
his hand stills in the air, waiting patiently for yours; to bring it to his glossy lips. but you don’t do anything. nothing, other than studying his smile, picture perfect, tailor-made, sweet enough to melt on your tongue. so sweet you know it must be at least a little bit fake — the smile of a liar. 
it’s a smile you know well.
so you mimic it, a bitter glint in your eyes, only for your hands to retreat to your pockets. and out comes a purr. ”you’re a bad actor.”
silence. the knight doesn’t flinch, not even close, but he blinks, a flutter of his dark eyelashes. like a raven taking flight. that everlasting smile never falters, but for just a second, a clock-tick or two, you swear you catch the slightest hint of something flickering through his keen iris.
interest?
”forgive them, suguru,” the king is quick to chip in, finally stepping down from his throne to join you on the floor. the queen doesn’t move, but she gives suguru a fond smile, and it makes your grimace deepen. ”they woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning. and they’re a bit of a problem child — i’m sure you’ve heard.”
that makes you snicker, silently. maybe just a little bit smug. you’re sure it must be a headache for him to deal with.
”i can’t say i haven’t,” suguru chuckles, raising himself up from the marble floor. your smile falls. ”but it’s not an issue. i understand.”
he looks at you, really looks at you, and you give him an unimpressed stare. wholly disinterested. trying not to squirm under his scrutiny. 
”i’m sure it must feel suffocating — being under this kind of supervision.” he gives you a tilt of his head, strands of charcoal following the movement. smooth, like a waltz, one you didn’t agree to. ”isn’t it?”
ah. the sympathy card.
before you can answer, he bows; hand on his heart. knights and their rituals. ”i’m at your service, my liege. if i make you uncomfortable, at any point, just tell me.” once more, he meets your gaze, a sincerity in his own — reserved just for you. ”really.”
… ugh.
to your right comes a pleased voice, deep and satisfied, as self-affirming as ever. ”i knew i could entrust them to you,” the king speaks, placing a palm on your shoulder. you try not to flinch. ”aren’t you grateful? this handsome, kind man is all yours.”
a sharp scoff is all you can muster, nails digging into the skin of your palm. but suguru only chuckles, good-natured.
they continue to speak, about this and that. you tune out most of it, caught up in preparing for the long headache ahead. sure, you’re an expert at getting knights to quit, but it takes time. weeks, sometimes, just to make them finally crack, push and push until their patience reaches its limit. and suguru seems resilient. more than anything, he seems thoroughly loyal to the king; that really doesn’t bode well for you.
but before you can formulate a step-by-step guide to making his job a living hell, the sound of your name snaps you out of your trance.
it’s the king, of course, as always. you hate that you still instinctively respond to his call. like an obedient puppy. ”show suguru to your quarters. he’ll be accompanying you indefinitely, from now on. don't give him any trouble.” his voice finally sounds cold again; a warning. ”i’ll hear about it.”
(indefinitely.)
a moment passes. then you sigh, deep and heavy, haphazardly hiding a roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah,” you cross your arms. ”i got it.”
suguru meets your furrowed brows with something gentle, a soothing little smile. offering his arm, for you to hold on to. knights and their rituals. ”shall we?”
but you brush past him. stubborn in your independence, in your desire to make this as discomforting for him as it is for you. ”follow me,” is all you say, a dissatisfied huff. loud enough to pick up on.
to your great displeasure, he matches your hurried pace. side by side, as you walk down the halls, the clicking of his shoes echoing against the marble. a shadow you can’t shine away; one that’ll stay with you indefinitely. you feel his gaze burn into you.
”my lord.”
”don’t talk to me,” you sigh, sharp like the sword by his hip. a low click of your tongue. ”just so you know, i didn’t agree to this.”
”that was my question, actually,” he grins, ever so slightly. fingertips tapping against his scabbard. ”i am sorry, you know. i meant what i said — i’m sure it’s difficult for you.” he casts you another one of those meaningful glances, a meaning you have no intention of discerning. ”but i have my orders.”
you bite back a laugh. ”you guys love those, huh?” when you turn your head to face him, still walking forward, he’s met with a taunting smirk. ”your little orders.”
but his smile doesn’t falter. damn.
”not a fan of knights?” he asks, instead, a playful lilt to his syrupy voice. coaxing, accommodating. infuriating.
”nope.” your footsteps quicken — but he keeps up, effortlessly. curse those abnormally long legs. ”you’re all just bootlickers. especially you.”
”oh?”
”don’t oh? me,” you snap, practically growling, ”like you weren’t seconds away from making out with the king back there. it’s all so fake.” the comment makes the corners of his lip quirk up, but you don’t turn around to see it. ”now that you’re alone with me, you’re already acting way less uptight, see?”
he hums. ”i figured it’d make you feel more at ease.”
”god, will you just cut it out?” a hiss breaks out of your throat, sharp and exasperated. tired, drained. you just want to go back to sleep. ”quit acting like you care about what i think. you’ll do whatever the king asks of you — that’s all you really care about.”
suguru stays silent, this time. matching your steps, observing you silently, out of the corner of his eye. the frown on your lips, the crease between your brows. etching them into his memory. you’re pissed, that much he can tell. and you definitely, definitely don’t like him. 
(”you’re a bad actor.”)
the knight comes to a standstill. parting his lips, enough for his voice to flow through, silken sheets and molten honey. a raspy tilt he tries his best to hide.
but his words carry a sincerity he could never fake. 
”from now on, i serve you.”
when the clicking of his shoes against cold marble flooring fades away, you halt. turning around, hesitantly, quirking a questioning brow. rain beats on beyond the window to your left, flicking against the glass, droplets clinging to the translucent surface. marigold petals kiss the windows in a flurry of cream and orange, fluttering about with the harsh bites of the wind, carried from the castle’s orchard. the endless hallway you find yourselves in smells of rainwater and spring.
suguru looks steadfast, where he’s standing, immovable. a little like a pillar of salt. when he speaks it sounds like he’s reciting a scripture.
”i’m loyal to the king. i have to follow his orders.” 
there’s something about his words that you can’t quite pinpoint. is it guilt or pride? ”but i am at your service. certain things are set in stone, but not others. i’ll let you decide how this goes.”
the hallway goes silent. he smiles, again, smaller this time. somehow more genuine.
”from now on, i’m your knight.” the pitter patter of rain mashes with the steady beating of a clock; rhythmic, soothing, a lullaby of rust and time. ”that’s all. i won’t be anything else.”
you stare. lips pursed, awaiting a clarification, but it doesn’t come. he’s giving you time to respond.
(he’s your knight, now. indefinitely yours.)
an inhale. the clock hands of your heart begin to move. ”in that case,” you exhale, lips curling up into a taunting smile. pleased with yourself. ”i promise to be the most insufferable lord a knight has ever had. i won’t make your job easy for you.”
and suguru only chuckles. raspy, like the bark of a tree, claw marks on the ground. ”good,” he grins, eyes rich with mirth, golden pears hanging off the branches. ”i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
he looks sincere. sounds sincere. all you do is blink, a sense of frustration nibbling at your heart, but the knight before you doesn’t falter. he only offers his arm to you, once more; a silent step towards reconciliation.
you watch him, silently. 
then you’re turning on your heel, swiftly, a low grumble at the base of your throat. ignoring him and his offer, walking towards your room with irritated steps that fade as you turn the corner.
behind you, suguru’s smile only grows.
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”good morning, your highness.”
blinking sleepily, still regaining your ability to form coherent thoughts, all you can do is stare. studying the figure above you, towering over your half-asleep form, the deadpan expression on your face.
black hair, and amber eyes. a disgustingly charming smile. 
the gears of your mind finally click into place.
a whine flows from your lips, meek and disapproving, and you roll over to your side. pulling the covers over your head, as if to protect you from the existence of your newly hired knight. so it wasn’t just a bad dream.
but he doesn’t fade away, like an apparition. he stays right by your bed, crouching down next to it. you feel the weight of the mattress shift when he rests his elbow on the cushion. ”still too early?” he asks, soft enough not to grate your sensitive ears. ”i was told you usually get up around this time…”
a muffled groan. ”leave.”
”i’m afraid i can’t,” he hums, but you don’t sense much remorse. ”i’m not supposed to let you out of my sight for more than brief intervals at a time… that’s one thing i can’t compromise on.”
”i don’t care,” you whine, petulant. tightening your grip on the blanket surrounding you, desperate to savour the leftovers of your fuzzy dreams. ”’m not getting up…”
a click of his tongue. quiet, contemplative. until he decides on a course of action.
”would you like me to bring you breakfast, then?”
slowly, your eyes flicker open, consciousness beginning to stir. the tasty temptation rouses you from your half-slumber, ever so slightly; because he sounds sincere. he sounds like he really will bring you breakfast, if you just give him the order. 
it’s tempting. dangerously so. 
(how long has it been since one of the maids actually bothered to serve you breakfast?)
”… whatever,” you croak, finally. weighing the value of your own response — putting effort into not sounding too excited. (but you are.) ”sure. do what you want, just let me sleep.”
a relieved little breath slips from suguru’s lips, as he watches the lump under the blanket stir. ”alright,” he breathes. ”what would you like, my lord?”
(suddenly, you get an idea.)
a smug grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief on your mind. ”figure it out yourself,” you chirp, awfully pleased with yourself. 
silence. 
then, you hear him hum — rising to his feet with a quiet groan. ”understood,” he quips. ”i’ll be back as soon as possible, your highness.”
when you hear the creaking of the door, as he steps over the threshold, you barely restrain the urge to kick your legs in victory. now he’s sure to get you the wrong breakfast; and then you can be as difficult as you please, demanding something else, over and over. an ungrateful, spoiled little brat. that’ll definitely make him quit. 
— sadly, it seems you were underestimating him. just a tiny, tiny bit.
before you, on a silver tray, lays a wide variety of breakfast foods. everything from syrupy pancakes and buttery croissants to neatly cut sandwiches and porridge, slices of fruit and fresh lemonade, coffee with cream and sugar, tiny jars of marmalade and jam. sparkling, glittering, begging to be devoured. handmade, you can tell, meticulously crafted by someone who knows what they’re doing. with a gulp, you attempt not to openly salivate — you had no clue the kitchen workers were this talented. 
for just a moment, you’re entirely speechless. he really went ahead and got you some of everything.
stumbling for the right words, any words, the only thing that escapes your throat is a meek huff. meant to sound displeased, but coming out just a little awestruck. ”this is… way, way too much. are you insane?”
he only shrugs. a sweet smile on his lips, sharp jaw resting on the heel of his palm. ”well, you wouldn’t give me any specifics,” he reminds you, a bit too smug for your liking. ”just eat what you like. i’ll keep your preferences in mind.”
you want to protest, want to put up a fight. want to resist his charms, his little peace offering.
but your stomach growls, suddenly. loud enough that you’re sure he hears it, but you don’t turn around to see any silent laughter — just picking up the fork, embarrassed, eager to just get rid of the ache in your gut. eager to get a taste of the delicacies in front of you. with hesitance, you cut into one of the fluffy pancakes, slathered with syrup, trying to ignore his expectant gaze. biting into it with your eyes closed.
when the sweet taste curls around your tongue, you physically feel yourself perk up. letting your eyes flutter open, your eyebrows raised, a sweetness that makes you sit up straighter. it practically melts in your mouth, honeyed and buttery, and it takes all your willpower to withhold a blissed out little sigh. 
it must be evident, on your features. because suguru sounds amused when he asks; ”good?”
”... better than usual, i guess.”
despite your half-assed attempt at hiding how pleased you are, his ever-present smile extends. ”oh, really?” he leans back in his chair, right next to the bed. exhaling in relief. ”i’m glad. i was worried my cooking wouldn’t be to your tastes.”
you pale.
silently, both awestruck and horrified, you look up to meet his teasing gaze. ”wait. you��” a pause. silent, palpable, dreading his answer. ”… made this?” 
”yes.”
another pause. 
”… like. all of it?”
”mhm.”
your gaze falls down to seek solace in your lap. avoiding his own, biting down on your lip, not quite enough to sting. fuck — you accidentally complimented his handmade breakfast. not off to a great start.
wallowing in your silent loss, you simply dig in; desperate to savour it, despite the lingering taste of failure on your tongue. once you’ve sipped the last of your coffee, foamy and rich, the knight to your right speaks up.
”so, your highness,” he begins. tactful, careful. clearing his throat. ”now that you’ve woken up a bit… and, forgive me if i’m overstepping, but —” he searches for your guarded gaze, playing with the beginnings of a smile. ”i was thinking it’d be good for us to get to know each other better.”
”ugh.”
a chuckle — seriously, does nothing offend this man? — flits past his lips. ”oh, don’t be like that, your highness. don’t you think it —”
”cut it out.” you shoot him a glare, voice set to a shivering tilt. ”stop acting like some perfect servant. it’s so obvious you’re playing it up.” a tiny huff, as you pop an apple slice into your mouth. ”makes me sick.”
”… right. you called my acting bad, before.”
”it is,” you nod, a mocking imitation on your tongue. eyes fluttering shut as you bring a hand to your chest. ”oooh, look at me, i’m so humble and loyal! why, of course i don’t mind being summoned with no prior notice! would you like me to lick your shoes, my sweet king?”
and, honestly, you expect him to get at least a little bit angry. the last guy certainly was.
but suguru laughs, suddenly, from the bottom of his gut — a genuine sound. sunshine spilling from his lips, amusement laced together with the octaves. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, like the leaves of a golden ginkgo tree. ”okay, okay,” he puts his hands up, as if readying for a smooth surrender. still amused. ”i’ll try to be more… unguarded, then. would that satisfy you?”
you give him a look. 
he returns it with a smile. ”i’ll take that as a yes,” is all he croons, reaching a hand out. it hangs still in the air, waiting patiently for a response. a familiar sight.
you blink. looking at it, silently, as if trying to solve a puzzle in the pattern of his fingertips. 
then you sigh. ”for the last time, i’m not letting you kiss my hand, you —”
”a handshake,” he cuts you off. soft, a tilt of his head; awfully charming. reassuring you. ”no kissing involved.”
a handshake.
(come to think of it, you don’t think anyone’s ever tried to shake your hand before. it’s something you see other people do; maids, knights, butlers. people on equal ground with each other.)
after a moment of silence, you avert your gaze. there’s a slight, slight flush to your cheeks, one you hope stays hidden from his keen eyes. you grumble, intent on not appeasing him. ”… i’m not shaking your hand, either.”
suguru quirks a brow, smile yet to fall, waiting a few moments more until he gives in. ”you are difficult,” he chuckles, and it sounds almost pleased. ”kento was right.”
kento? now, why does that sound familiar…? 
”— but that’s okay. i look forward to getting to know you better, either way.” his hand retreats to his lap, pliant. ”eventually.”
”that’s not happening.”
”oh?” you swear that smile of his grows, just a little. a man who enjoys a good challenge. humming, closing his eyes for a brief second, switching tactics as if shifting gears. ”then, tell me — is there anything you’d like to know about me?”
hell no, is what you want to say. and you almost, almost do. eager to move one step ahead of him, stubborn in your desire to scare him off.
but then you remember the tale.
so you still, ever so slightly, and suguru leans forward. by a hair, noticing your expression, maybe, the curiosity simmering in your veins. seeping out, little by little, and even though you know you shouldn’t — you just can’t resist the temptation to ask…
”… is it true?”
he tilts his head.
”the … you know.” you move your hands, a bit, as if hoping they’ll say the words for you. they don’t. ”your sword. did you really…” a pause, as your eager gaze trails down to his hip, the scabbard attached to his belt. and then a gulp. 
”… pull it out of a stone?”
a series of silent blinks. then suguru chuckles — dripping with fresh amusement, a glimmer of teeth behind his lips. ”oh, so you’ve heard?”
and, like a pair of shooting stars, your eyes flicker over to meet his. almost gleaming with newfound excitement, a little erratic. ”is — is it true?”
”it’s an old folktale,” he’s quick to intercept. ”gets said about basically every great knight… or, what the public deems as good, anyhow.”
(ah. the humble facade slipped away.)
in a matter of seconds, you seem to deflate, slumping back until your spine meets the headboard. sulking silently. ”so you didn't pull your sword out of a rock?” you huff, mood souring again, a lemony flavour in your veins. ”lame.”
”stone,” he corrects, unperturbed. ”and i'm afraid not.” he gives you another one of his placating smiles, barely concealed amusement swimming in his amber eyes. ”i pulled mine from an oak tree.”
”wait, really?”
the gleam in your eyes is back. suguru almost, almost feels bad.
”depends,” he quips, shooting you a lazy grin. ”how gullible are you, my lord?”
(... oh. he was teasing you.)
an embarrassed heat crawls up your neck, rooting itself into the column of your throat, and all you can do to distract him from it is to scoff. sharply, as if hoping just the sound will be enough to cut into his smooth skin. ”whatever.”
suguru continues to smile, crows’ feet by his eyes, something deliberate in his silent stare. so you stumble for something, anything to say.
”also, can you quit the my lord stuff?” you settle on, taking a shallow sip of the lemonade. sour and sweet, nice and chilled on your tongue. ”it’s creepy.”
he blinks. a flutter of his dark lashes, fingers tapping at his bended knee. he looks contemplative, for a moment. ”does it make you uncomfortable?” he asks, tilting his head. ”i can stick to my liege, if that’s better. just say the word.” 
”god, you’re so annoying,” you groan, licking the lemony residue off your lips. ”just use my name.”
suddenly, suguru stills. fingertips frozen, for a moment, no longer tapping at his thigh. he traps his bottom lip between his teeth, a hesitant hum crawling up the confines of his throat. 
”that….” he trails off, thumb absentmindedly smoothing over the leather of his scabbard. ”seems a little much.”
when you turn to look at him, he seems a little put off. uncomfortable, maybe — or just caught off guard? it’s hard to get a read on him. for someone who smiles so often, his emotions don’t appear very bright.
a pang of something grasps onto your clockwork heart, and a frown pulls at your bottom lip. frustration gnawing at your veins. ”you’re here to service me, aren’t you?” you ask, with a shallow huff. ”just do as i say.”
”well, i still have my boundaries.” suguru leans back, crossing his legs, gazing at you with slightly lidded eyes. ”and, on paper — i’m only here to protect you. the servicing is my own choice.” 
a very, very judgemental look. he returns it with a tug of his lips. 
”… you really do like being ordered around, don’t you?”
suguru shrugs. playful. ”makes me feel needed,” he purrs, watching you wolf down the breakfast he made.
once you’ve had your fill, he’s quick to gather the silver tray in his steady arms, and you do your very best to hold back from thanking him for the meal. it aches a little, but you can’t give in — you don’t have a choice. you can’t allow yourself to be anything other than the most ungrateful, annoying royal in the kingdom.
anything to snap his clockwork heart in half.
— a week passes with no particular developments. you try your damndest to bother him, but suguru is stubborn. stubborn enough that you’re starting to doubt he’ll ever leave you alone, no matter how much you ignore him, or hiss at him, or whine at him to make you an annoyingly specific assortment of breakfast foods.
he never stops smiling, no matter how bothersome you’re being. the tick-tock of his patience remains unbroken. 
(so for now, you figure you’ll just have to adjust.)
a sense of contentment simmers in the open air, when suguru knocks at your door, waiting for a groan and a grouchy come in. it takes you a few moments longer to respond than what he’s used to, and he notes that you sound a little less irritated when you do.
as he steps over the threshold, bowing his head instinctively, he’s met with the sight of you fully immersed. holding a paintbrush between your fingers, lifting it, movements delicate, self-assured. like it comes to you without thinking. you’re seated right by the window, enough for the would-be daylight to flicker in. as it stands, the weather is still sour. 
he walks up to you, as always, never more than a few steps away.
and, for a moment, all he does is watch you. silently, as you dip your brush in smeary cobalt paint, a splatter of colour on the white canvas. melting together with the indigo and obsidian. there’s a certain rhythm to it, a kind of dance between you and your mind and the painting in front of you — not even close to being finished. a dip of your brush blooms into a jaw, a flick of your wrist into a set of fangs. cobalt cream and silvery edges, an imitation of what you saw in your sleep. murky, blurry, a dream-like clearing in the woods. 
as you work, a sense of relaxation smooths along your sinuses. coaxing you into breathing out, into letting your clenched jaw rest for a while. turning all your irritation into brushstrokes. into a hungry, hungry wolf. 
finally, your knight opts to break the silence.
”you’re quite talented.” 
it’s an earnest comment. filled with respect, not the idle flattery you’re so used to. and despite yourself, you can’t help but grin — glowing a little beneath the praise. prideful, smug, almost giddy. he watches intently as your expression shifts, as those fleeting flickers of joy dance along the contours of your cheekbones. as you lap up his praise like the chamomile tea he served you this morning.
suguru smiles. you have a cute side, he thinks. for no more than a mere moment, he finally feels as if he’s getting somewhere; getting closer to breaking that thorny, thorny shell of yours. closer to meeting the little lamb beneath the wolf’s hide.
but your mind quickly catches up to your body, realizing that your lips are curled up into a pleased smile, and you clench your jaw again. mindful not to let him see it. painting makes you far too careless, too unguarded; you have to be mean.
stuck in a bout of frustration, you put a little too much force into the motion of your fingers, a small slip of the hand. but that’s all it takes. suddenly, the smooth, calm sea of fur on the canvas turns violent, a little more unruly, and you withhold a wince. doing your best to mend the damage. flick, flick, across the canvas, as if to appease the hungry wolf. 
from behind you, a tiny exhale. laced with a kind of stifled amusement, one that makes you snap your jaw in his direction. brows knitted in anger.
”what?”
suguru clears his throat. ”nothing, my liege,” he hides a smile behind his knuckle. eyes gliding across the murky smear of fangs and fur, interest piqued. ”i’m just curious… why a wolf?”
a huff. briefly, you consider ignoring him, but….
(something in his tone convinces you not to.)
”… i saw one,” you admit, absently, staring at the blue and gray of the canvas. flick, flick. violet, navy, a little more depth. ”in my dream.”
silence. your knight doesn’t respond. surely, he must think you childish; everyone else does. why would he be the exception? why did you tell him anything at all? a sense of regret mixes with the paint.
the weight of a brush in your hand truly does make you careless, doesn’t it?
”… huh.”
a clenching of teeth. you muster the will to turn your head, just to give him a questioning look, a silent aggression. biting before he can. but he’s not looking at you; he’s looking at the painting, the wolf that isn’t quite a wolf yet, just blue and gray on paper. a blur of messy motions.
then he shakes his head. ”no, nothing.” 
you quirk a brow. 
but you don’t say anything. falling silent, falling back into the rhythm of it all, painting until you grow bored of it. the wolf looks at you both, still thoroughly unfinished, jaw half-painted, no trees or knights to keep it company. solitary, blurry; baring its fangs towards no one at all. a sorry spectacle of teeth.
— a couple days later, as you’re walking through the castle with suguru in tow, still adamantly refusing to curl your fingers around his bicep, a loud crash breaks you out of your hushed banter.
the two of you share a look. it came from farther away, just beyond the next turn, a certain hallway decorated with delicate vases. one the castle maids desperately tried to keep you from, when you were younger, worried about your habit of jumping around while pretending to be some sort of feral animal. worried, of course, about the safety of the porcelain rather than the safety of the child.
it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the source of the sound. and, lo and behold, what waits beyond the turn ahead is a crying boy and a broken vase.
fat tears cascade down his reddened cheeks, silent fear knit into the way his face is scrunched up. he can’t be older than six or seven; one of the maid’s children, you assume, the kind that doesn’t have the luxury of making mistakes. he looks panicked, down on his knees, holding a large piece of porcelain, painted flowers etched into the front.
what a mess.
when the clicking of your shoes reaches his little ears, he looks up at you with wide, shameful eyes. still sitting amongst the littered shards, the spilt water and irises soon to wilt. it reminds you of something, a memory you don’t quite want to recall; a different child, tiny and alone. taught to feel shame at the moment of their birth. 
it makes your pace falter, a bit, but suguru moves without hesitation. long, careful strides, one foot after the other. 
he crouches down in front of the boy, gentle as he takes the shattered piece of porcelain from his tiny palm. so he doesn’t hurt himself. ”hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, speaking even softer than usual, his voice like a flurry of feathers and jasmine petals. ”are you hurt?”
he’s patient. smiling comfortingly, considerate, grounding, a blanket of wool like the one forming on the border of the horizon. but the child continues to sniffle and hiccup, curling into a ball as if readying for a strike. like an abandoned puppy.
you sigh.
after a moment’s hesitation, you’re stepping forward, figure slipping from the shadows and coming into view. joining the miserable pair, the jagged shards on the marble floor. 
there’s a cold, cold look in your eyes when the boy raises his head to meet them.
a flick of your wrist; you wave your hand once, then twice. ”shoo. hurry up.” 
he blinks. tears clumping his lashes together, cheeks flushed from the panic of it all. he stammers when he parts his lips. ”b… but —”
”didn’t you hear me?” comes a scoff, harsh, cutting through the air. right through the fear and panic. ”that was an order. just run back to your mommy already.” you cross your arms, shaking your head in disapproval. mimicking the king, though you think it’s lost on your spectators. ”all that crying is making my head hurt, geez.”
a series of hesitant blinks. crumbling beneath your commanding gaze, the child stumbles to his feet, sparing suguru one last unsure little glance before scurrying off. the sigh that slips from your lips is quiet, barely audible, tinged with relief. 
when you look down to the floor, you find that suguru is already looking at you; a furrow to his brows. angry, for once. just a tiny, tiny flicker of distaste. you reward him with a cold smile. 
(so this is how you get under this skin. cruelty, aimed not towards him, but towards the defenseless. 
what a picture-perfect, self-destructive little knight.)
just as the child turns the corner ahead, you hear the echo of a maid calling out from behind you. her voice is dripping with fatigue, exasperation, a flurry of sighs you’ve grown far too familiar with.
”your highness! what have you done now?”
there it is, you think; the curtain call you’ve been waiting for. with a swift turn of your heel, sheepish expression ready to go, your focus shifts onto one sole objective — act annoying.
”walked into a vase,” you chirp, proudly, just the slightest bit theatrical. gesturing dismissively towards the broken spectacle, as suguru raises himself from the floor. ”my bad. not my fault you make them so easy to break, though.”
she inches closer, with a disapproving stare, and you hear a tick-tock in your ear. sensing the limit of her patience. ”i’ll have you know these vases are expensive,” she clicks her tongue. ”do you truly think you can go around breaking whatever you please?”
”… i mean. i do kind of own this place, don’t i?” you tilt your head, faux contemplation on your features, shifting into a spoiled smile. ”or i will. so — technically — i broke my own vase. no harm done!”
”… my lord —”
”quiet.” suguru stiffens, ever so slightly, following your sharp whisper. ”don’t fuck this up.”
he looks at you, silently. not saying another word.
(there’s a shame in his eyes that you don’t turn your head to see.)
it doesn’t take long for the maid to shoo you away, pinching her brow at your carefree laughter, bitter at the prospect of cleaning up your mess. she makes sure to give suguru a sweet smile, though, and doesn’t bother to hide the sympathy in it. sympathy for him, such a handsome, well-behaved knight, forced to service such a brat.
the smile he gives her in return is a stiff one. almost, almost cold. but he bows, and follows your retreating form, until you’re all alone together.
the walk is silent. maybe just a little heavy, as you try to ignore the stare burning into your skin, trying to swallow your own displeasure. it’s subtle, something you learned to internalize long ago, but it’s there; a slight sadness. you don’t enjoy getting yelled at.
a thick silence stretches on, before crumbling into dust. you aren’t sure how much time has passed when a certain velvety voice curls around your senses.
”your highness.”
he’s come to a standstill, again. you really should just ignore him and keep walking. but you still, anyway, following his cue, turning towards him with a look that says what now? — you aren’t sure what to expect. certainly not the sentence that ends up spilling from his lips, like a spring breeze through an opened window, tinged with something you fear may be close to fondness. 
(in your chest, your heartbeat tick-tocks.)
he smiles, gentle, with eyes that see right through you. and he speaks. 
”you’re actually kind, aren’t you?”
”… huh?”
he pays no mind to your stupefied expression. continuing, unperturbed, eyeing you with a look you distinctly dislike — as if he’s trying to glimpse into your mind. ”the vase,” he hums. ”you took the blame, even though you didn’t do it.”
a huff escapes you. face hardening, setting into firm lines. ”that wasn't intentional,” you grumble, defensive. ”i just wanted him to leave.” 
but suguru shakes his head. ”you could’ve left when the maid came. but you stayed, and lied, and got yelled at so he wouldn’t have to.” a second passes, silence thick with meaning. intentional on his part, you’re sure. ”is that not what you’d call kind?”
another moment gone, little tick-tocks of your heartbeat counting down. you part your lips, but no sound comes out, as you stumble for words to say. irritation stirring in your veins. or is it nervosity? you think your skin feels a little hot, suddenly. 
just what the hell is happening?
”i’m… i’m not — ” you bite down on your lip. harshly. stammering, voice cracking a bit, to your great dismay. ”… not kind. i hate all of them.”
”but you protect them,” he whispers, ”look after them.” his smile doesn’t waver, never ever, but you’ve never seen it look quite this knowing. and suddenly, he’s closing in on you, gazing at you with laughter in his eyes. 
you try to stand your ground, wanting nothing more than to flee, curl into yourself, scratch at him until he leaves. but your throat feels so dry, all of a sudden, a sensation that only deepens with the next words he breathes into life. 
”a little sweetheart who pretends to be all big and bad…” he eyes you up and down, a meaningful look, raven locks moving as he tilts his head. towering over you. ”is that what you are?”
nothing. no smart reply comes to you. all you can muster is a harsh glare, a low hiss crawling up your throat, like you’re preparing to lunge at him. it serves as a warning, but the amusement in his eyes doesn’t fluctuate. ”you…”
he chuckles. raspy, breathy, a shiver down your spine. ”your acting is even worse than mine.”
”shut up,” you snap, baring your teeth. it comes out almost like a growl, hot and heavy in your veins, and you don’t understand where all this emotion came from. strangling you, bubbling up within your bobbing throat. ”you don’t — understand me, okay?”
no one does. 
and that’s fine. you don’t want them to. 
(you just want him to stop looking you so fondly.)
”not yet,” he admits, eyes fluttering shut. a thoughtful hum on the tip of his tongue. ”… but i think i’m beginning to.” 
he’s looking at you, again, amber and honey and raven lashes, lapping up every hint of a tell in the way you shift from foot to foot. speaking like he knows you, like he’s known you all his life. ”you act difficult — scare everyone away… but deep down, you love them, don’t you?”
a scoff. desperate. ”no.”
”you want to loved,” he continues, not allowing you to flee. relentless in his pursuit of whatever he imagines must be hidden inside your soul, beneath all those layers of frost. ”understood. everyone does.”
”not me.”
”your highness.”
the knight continues to look at you, and you avoid his gaze like it could burn you into cinders — like it could turn you into dust. but he parts his lips, anyway, and speaks. so sincere it makes your chest hurt. words that echo through the endless hallways of the castle, against the surfaces of glass that line the walls. words that make your skin flush under the shadows of rain soon to fall.
he smiles, wide, teeth showing. and he speaks. 
”that was very, very kind of you.”
silence. so thick you wonder if you’re about to faint, or fall to the floor, or something equally embarrassing. a sentence so simple shouldn’t be making you feel this way, this weird. you don’t understand why it makes you feel anything, anything at all, and you don’t understand why your eyes suddenly feel a little glassy.
(someone saw through the act.)
”… whatever,” you squeeze out, at last, but it sounds a little meek. a tiny puff of air. turning around, sharply, blinking rapidly to shoo the tears away. ”i just didn’t want to hear that brat whining. it was hurting my ears.” 
suguru bites back a coo.
as he watches your back retreat, hurrying back to the comfort of your room, he’s almost certain that he’s making progress. that your walls are beginning to crumble, slowly but surely, bit by bit. the path before him clears — a thorny, foggy path through the woods, until a sunsplatter falls on the ground and tells him where to plant his feet. 
it’s not much, barely anything, but suguru’s always liked his hunts blindsighted. 
you turn a corner, and he follows suit. sparing a passing glance at the clouds on the boundary of the horizon, the sole ray of sunlight breaking through. and then he’s catching up to you with long strides.
(it’s his duty, yes, but he doesn’t think he’d mind it so much — getting to know his kind, misunderstood little lord.)
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sadly, disappointingly, to your great shame — you begin to grow used to suguru’s presence in your life. constant, always close behind, always ready to be of service. as infuriatingly patient as ever. it’s a stretch, but you may have become just the slightest bit fond of it. 
maybe, possibly, you’ve even silently decided to stop trying to scare him away. stop acting so difficult with him, all the time.
or, well — sometimes.
”take me outside, please?” you whine, bottom lip jutting out into a deep pout, accompanied by a flutter of your lashes. 
the voice that spills from your lips is hopelessly meek, pleading, so sweet you’d get cavities if you didn’t know how fake it was. effortless, perfected, your one god-given talent; an irresistible pair of puppy dog eyes. 
suguru answers with a smile, tight-lipped. ”no.”
a beat.
”aw, come on,” you whine, barely resisting the urge to stomp your feet. frustration bubbles up inside your veins, trickling down to your wrist, nails digging into your palm. ”why not? you’re supposed to listen to my every command!”
”still no, sweetheart.”
a series of grumbles scratch at the base of your throat, but suguru pays them no mind. patient, patient, patient. he’s even kind enough to ignore the way you pointedly avoid his gaze after the term of endearment slips past his lips. ”sorry, but that part is non-negotiable. you know i don’t have a choice.”
you do know. but it still makes your mood sour, pulls a sigh from out of your lips. he moves closer, familiar silver tray in hand, dragging a chair to where you’re seated by the windowsill.
”i did bring you this, though,” he gestures towards a particular glass bowl, filled with red berries. they shine like rubies in the light. ”strawberries, like you asked for. wasn’t easy to get a hold of.”
he places the tray right next to you, smiling as he takes a seat. ”cheer up, hm? don’t be so grumpy.”
your pout remains, but you do settle down a bit. just the teeniest, tiniest bit. definitely not because he was kind enough to indulge your cravings.
”… thanks for breakfast.” 
suguru beams, and you avoid his gaze, like always. biting into one of the rubies, the soft murmur of thanks still burning your tongue, soothed by sweet nectar. he lets you flee, lets you continue on like nothing happened, like it isn’t obvious how much you’ve warmed up to his presence. 
”you’re welcome, my lord.”
(even after spending more than a month together, he still won’t call you by name. won’t even entertain the idea. why does that bother you so much?)
peacefully, your morning ritual continues. the same as always; you eat, while suguru watches, a sweet smile on his lips. the silence remains until he opts to break it.
today, he sounds a little hesitant.
”say, your highness…” he picks at a piece of lint on his cloak, absentminded. ”could i ask you for a favour?”
you almost drop your fork. gaze snapping up to meet his own, as a few silent seconds tick on by. tick-tock, tick-tock. then you clear your throat, regaining your composure. trying to sound nonchalant. 
”what is it?” you probe, cutting across the yolk on your fried egg. watching the orange seep out, trickling down, sinking into the crust of your toast. suguru hums. 
”a friend of mine — he’s also a knight…” he wrings his hands together, legs parted. tapping his heel on the floor. ”we’ve been sparring together for a while. once a week, at least. but ever since the king hired me, we haven’t been able to.”
you watch as his gaze flickers down to his lap, then up to you again. it’s smooth, charming, but you still think it seems a little out of place. he must not be used to asking for favours.
”i was wondering if you’d be willing to accompany me? just down to the training fields by the castle.” his fingers tap against his bended knee, slow and methodical, from pointer to pinkie. ”the king gave us permission to spar there, but i’m obviously not allowed to let you out of my sight…”
you bite back a huff. obviously. he waits for a response that doesn’t come.
”… so?”
you meet his gaze, expectant. hopeful, maybe. it’s a nice touch — matches with the amber of his eyes.
”would that be alright with you?” he inquires, again. you think he sounds just a tiny bit unsure of himself.
a moment passes. silently, you look down at your lap. folded hands, itching to do something. something fun, new, exciting. 
your tongue forms around a wish. it spills into the air like a shooting star, a meek little whisper. ”… i wanna swing a sword.”
suguru blinks. once, then twice. ”you…” he tastes the words on his tongue, turning the image of you around in his head. ”want to swing a sword?
you nod. glancing at him, coughing a little under your breath. summoning just a bit of audacity, eyes trailing towards the sword by his hip. longingly. ”… i’ll only watch you spar if you let me try it.” 
a brief pause. he studies you intently, a mystery he’s yet to solve.
then he chuckles, light and airy, full of mirth. a sound you’ve grown fond of. ”well, okay. that’s fair.” he rises to his feet, smiling down at you. ”thank you, my lord.”
you don’t respond. but your eyes glitter with excitement, as you dutifully finish your breakfast, wolfing it down. waiting patiently for him to head down to the kitchen with the tray, for him to change into his training gear. 
when he knocks at your door, he’s wearing a flimsy little blouse. almost see-through, if you squint your eyes enough, exposing his bare skin. you think you see a scar curling up from his chest, reaching for his shoulder, just below it by a hair. and you can see his biceps, the fat, the muscle, practically begging to be bitten.
(tantalizing.)
he’s speaking to you, saying something, but you tune him out. focused on trying to restrain your growing urges. when he reaches up to fix his hair, tied up into a bun, the muscle of his arm twitches.
and, suddenly, you can’t contain yourself. 
giving in to the salivating temptation, you grab hold of his bicep, sinking your teeth into it — gentle, but enough that he feels it, enough to leave a set of teeth marks soon to fade. gnawing at it like a dog with a bone.
suguru blinks. pupils wide, quirking a silent brow, quick to smooth over the surprise in his eyes. 
you don’t move. teeth planted against the fabric, the firm muscle beneath it, surprising even yourself; his arm just looked so biteable. you wonder if he’s put off. upset.
but, as always, he’s eerily placating. like nothing you say or do could rock the ship of his patience, an endless sea. smooth, airy laughter flits past his lips, giving way to an indulgent smile. he studies you with fascination, like you’re a creature he hasn’t encountered before.
ever so gently, he grabs hold of your jaw — and the warmth of his touch shocks you into letting it go slack. before you can say anything, he’s rolling up his sleeve. exposing the tender skin.
”go wild, your highness,” he grins, offering his arm up like a lamb to a hungry fox. a teasing mirth in his eyes, his voice coming out as a low purr. ”i don't mind a mark or two.”
to your horror — it flusters you terribly.
you cough. taking a step back, averting your gaze, suddenly disinterested. feigning indifference, anyhow; that was definitely a scar. and a cool one, too. you think you might even have caught a glimpse of a birthmark or two. 
”i’m… just keeping you on your toes,” you stumble for an excuse, still unable to look at him properly. missing the way he stifles a bout of laughter. ”for your training, y’know? gotta stay on your guard.”
”of course. i appreciate the help,” he quips, fond, as he gestures for you to take the lead. ”he’s waiting for us. are you ready?”
for a second, just a second, you consider grabbing his arm. letting him guide you. but the thought is fleeting, like a bundle of peach blossoms, brushed away by the sunshine seeping in through the window’s glass — illuminating the marble flooring. 
a mellow excitement simmers in your bones. 
you head down to the training grounds with a pep in your step, and your loyal knight follows suit. just behind, always, wearing a smile you can’t see.
”suguru!”
the man that greets you with cheerful fervour, seated cross-legged under a peach tree, isn’t quite what you expected him to be. 
when you heard knight, you imagined someone a bit more… intimidating. but this guy is far from imposing. a little shorter than suguru, brown locks stopping right around his ears, exposing his sunkissed skin. freckles scattered across his nose and cheekbones, a happy little grin curled right around his lips. 
he’s cute. a bit like a puppy. not very knightly, though.
”haibara,” suguru greets, a mellow warmth to his voice. the man in question shoots up from the ground, stumbling towards you both, excitement in his hazel eyes. suguru gestures towards you. ”this is the royal heir. the one who doesn’t like having their hand kissed.”
your head whips towards him, an angered flush to your cheeks — you’re almost sure that he’s smirking, giving you a teasing glance, but haibara’s exclamation prevents you from voicing any protests. 
”hi!” he beams, bowing deeply, so sudden that you jolt a bit. his head whips up instantly, brown locks stirred by the breeze, voice warm and smooth. like honeysuckle nectar. ”thank you so much for letting us spar, your highness! i’ve heard so much about you!”
”… um.” your gaze falls down to a pebble on the ground. unsure of how to act, murmuring under your breath. ”you — it’s… no need to thank me. i wanted to get some air, anyway.”
he continues to look at you, eyes shining with a pure kind of cheer. glittering, honeyed and sweet, too bright to look at directly. you hear suguru exhale amusedly to your left. he’s looking right at you when you glance towards him. 
his hand inches closer to his scabbard, fingertips trailing down the leather. ”should we get started?”
haibara brightens even further, if possible. ”oh, right!” he exclaims. ”you wanted to try swinging a sword, your highness? that’s so exciting! is this your first time?”
a blink. you aren’t really sure how to handle this guy; he’s a bit too sunny to be snarky to. like a fuzzy ball of sunshine given human form, bouncing on the balls of his feet, tail practically wagging behind him. all you can muster is a weak cough. ”uh, yeah.”
”well, you’re here to learn.” suguru speaks up. guiding you both towards the center of the field, hand still at the sword on his hip. ”let me show you.”
in one smooth motion, he’s pulling it out of its sheath, a stripe of silver absorbing the rays of the sun. glimmering, slicing the blue sky in half. 
you’re a little awestruck.
and then he’s facing you. leaning forward, with a familiar tilt of his head, offering the blade with a smile. ”do you want to try swinging it around a bit?”
barely containing your excitement, you nod. making grabby hands at it.
that makes him chuckle. he makes no move to stop you when your fingers curl around the hilt, only parting his lips for a quick warning, a split second too late. you take it into your arms. ”careful, it’s a bit —”
— the sword clatters to the ground with a thud.
silence.
haibara breaks out into laughter, sudden, fond and warm, but enough to have your cheeks burning. fresh with embarrassment, humiliation, before you even hear the breathy chuckle that slips from your knight’s lips.
”… i was gonna say it’s a bit heavy,” he hums, closed knuckle in front of his lips and obscuring his smile. ”i’m sorry, my lord. do you —”
”whatever.” a hiss escapes your throat, and suguru winces. he knows where this is going; knows a bundle of thorns just erupted from the stalk of your spine, knows you're about to get defensive. ”like i’d ever want to touch your dusty sword. get — get real.”
he tries again. patient, patient. the familiar tick-tock of his never-ending kindness. ”hey, we aren’t making fun of you,” he soothes, hoping it’ll make your edges soften. like scratching a feral dog behind its ear. ”it’s understandable. you weren’t expecting it. i’ll let you try again, hm?”
a tiny pause. 
(you’re being childish, again.)
brows furrowed, hanging your head, you kick at a pebble on the ground. having collected yourself a bit. ”… maybe next time,” you finally speak, still grumbling. after you’ve spent some time lifting weights in your room.
suguru tilts his head. speaking softly. ”you sure?”
”yeah.” taking a step back, you raise your head to meet his gaze. ”i’ll just watch you. it’s fine.”
”… okay,” he exhales. leaning forward to pick up his sword from the ground. ”i can spar with you next time, if you want. you’ll be a pro in no time.”
he gives you another sweet smile, bangs fluttering with the breeze; painted in cerulean sunshine. he’s so gorgeous it makes you angry.
a sharp huff. ”don’t patronize me,” is all you can mutter, meeting the eyes of the knight by his side. standing up straighter. ”haibara,” you call. ”knock him around a bit for me, okay?”
from the corner of your eye, suguru pouts.
but the puppy-knight only grins, as bright as the sun in the sky. ”you got it, your highness!” he salutes, cheeks flushing with giddy excitement. 
as you sit on the benches a little farther away, dragonflies buzz in the air. fleeting glimmers of chartreuse and cerulean, chirping happily, keeping you company as you watch the knights spar. the clangs of their blades, the elegance in the way suguru moves. a violent little waltz. he’s sweating, just a bit, but you can see it, droplets glittering in the sun. he looks like he’s having fun. 
he looks like himself. like he isn’t holding back, isn’t acting obedient or well-mannered for the sake of pleasing his superiors. like this, here and now, he looks wild, free, a dog that turns into a wolf under the glow of the sun. 
for a second, your eyes meet — just as he narrowly avoids a slash. 
and he smirks, ever so slightly, suddenly gaining a little more momentum. flashing a brief grin, sunlight reflecting off his white teeth. you huff. heat crawling up your neck. 
show off.
”excuse me, your highness?”
the sudden voice snaps you out of your stupor. mesmerized, by the spectacle before you, the glimmer of their blades and the sight of your knight’s smile. it’s an unfamiliar voice, close, close enough that your head turns to meet the stranger’s ugly grin — inching closer still.
(uh oh.)
— just up ahead, lost in their own worlds, are two knights; huffing and smirking and narrowly dodging each other’s strikes. suguru takes the lead, as always, guiding haibara into improving his swordsmanship. but they both learn from it. and it’s fun, lighthearted, a respite from their more gruesome duties. 
it’s helped suguru more times than he can count; those tiny flickers of normalcy, in a wholly unpredictable profession. a life of bowing and bowing and killing what needs to be killed.
slash, slash, and then two steps back. the same old dance. haibara’s starting to lose momentum, he notices, adam’s apple bobbing with his heavy breaths.
so suguru stills. ”alright, that’s enough for now,” he calls, stretching idly. craning his head, looking around him absently. he wonders if you’re still watching. ”i think i see what the problem is.”
haibara perks up, obeying without a word, wiping the sweat off his forehead and walking towards his friend with a sunny smile. ”okay, great!”
but suguru isn’t looking at him, anymore. 
he’s looking towards the benches, where his little lord is seated, speaking to an unfamiliar man. one who currently has his hand on their forearm, caressing it. you look guarded, irritated, a little like you’re about to bare your teeth. trying to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. and suguru recognizes that look — the one that means you’re about to start biting and hissing, inching your claws into whatever’s within reach.
(not to injure, but to ground yourself, he’s learned. like how you clutch onto the fabric of your clothing when you’re nervous, sink your nails into your palm. not to injure, but to feel safe.)
in the blink of an eye, he’s making his way towards you. beckoned by his duty, his natural instinct, a protective itch that curls around his ribcage and crawls up his throat. large strides, much swifter than usual. he moves without thinking, and he’s there before he has the time to form a coherent thought.
with as much gentleness as he can possibly muster, he grabs hold of the stranger’s arm. smiling, tight-lipped, cold. ”excuse me, sir,” he greets, ”i need to borrow them for a moment.”
the man meets his gaze with a sour look. bitter, ugly, oddly possessive — like he thinks he owns the arm he’s holding. it makes suguru want to teach him a lesson, show off his sword, but he resists the temptation in a way you never could. his expression is a warning, though, enough to scare most rowdy drunkards and snobby royals away.
and it works. the stranger looks to you, briefly, before finally letting go of your poor arm. something rigid in suguru’s jaw finally relaxes. ”who are you?” comes a question, as the man turns to face him with a look full of contempt. ”their knight?”
before suguru can say anything, you’ve hopped off the bench. clinging to him, with a firm nod; your arms around his bicep. ”yeah. he is.”
(suguru fails to stifle a smug smile.)
with a string of bitter mumbles and a silent frustration, the man scurries away. hesitant, only after being met with another warning glance from the knight in front of him. intimidating, far less subtle, towering above him like a predator over their prey.
as soon as he’s out of sight, your knight turns to you, scanning your face for signs of discomfort. loyal, attentive. ”are you okay?” he asks, a silent shame in his voice. if only he had noticed sooner. ”did he do anything to you?”
you shake your head. ”it’s fine. probably one of the king’s friends — stops by every now and then.” a sigh, a little fatigued, following your explanation. ”they’re mostly harmless. just creepy and touchy.”
”that doesn’t sound very harmless…” suguru lets you pull away, quick to hide the disappointment that flashes in his eyes as you do, waving haibara off with a silent gesture of give us a minute. ”don’t worry. i’ll keep an eye out, from now on.”
still a little guarded, you nod. letting suguru guide you by the small of your back, taking a seat on the solid bench once more. together, this time. 
”there are a lot of those types around the town square,” he exhales, weary, stretching out his limbs before leaning forward. elbows resting on his bended knees. ”they’re a pain to deal with. i’m sorry you have to.”
”are there?” you ask, tone laced with curiosity. ”in the town?” 
”well, i’m sure you’ve heard. that place is a bit of a mess, these days…” a click of his tongue. ”more work for the knights.”
a dragonfly settles on the bridge of his nose. suguru blinks, smiling gently, until it flutters away with a raspy squeak. fading away, melting into the blue paint of the sky. you bite down on your lip. 
”… i haven’t.”
he turns to look at you. raising a brow.
”i haven’t heard about it at all. the king told you, right?” you meet his eye with a rueful smile, before leaning back, nose turned up towards the sky. for a second, you think the air smells a bit of rain. ”i’m not allowed to go out into town.”
your knight falls silent.
so you continue. grinning, with no humour to it. maybe a bit eager to overshare, to break the silent rules you’ve been given. the secret tastes like honey on your tongue. ”i’m a bastard child. he probably told you that, too.” you wouldn’t be surprised. ”thinks it's optimal for everyone involved if i just stay cooped up in the castle.” 
closing your eyes, your voice drips with something close to longing. barely above a whisper. ”i haven't been to the town in a couple of years, now.”
he only hums. ”i see.”
(there’s sympathy, in his amber eyes, but you don’t turn around to see it. you don’t turn to look at him until he’s finished sparring, and haibara’s about to leave. 
you wonder if he’ll meet your gaze the same way as before.) 
— that evening, suguru knocks at your door right as you're about to fall asleep. three rapid knocks, the same as always, knuckle against wood. rousing you from your rest.
when you open it, he’s holding something out towards you.
”here,” he says, voice set to a mellow tilt. upon closer inspection, he’s holding a bottle. transparent, see-through, stuffed to the brim with sea glass. smooth little colourful pebbles, green and blue and pink and orange, like frozen little camellias. ”for you, my lord.”
blinking sluggishly, you take it into your arms; holding it up in front of your eyes. when the light of the moon flitting in through the curtains hits it just right, it blossoms with colour, sparkling with every shade you’ve ever seen. shining like a heap of jewels, in your hands, like something out of a picture-book. magical.
it’s mesmerizing. 
”i asked haibara to get it from the town,” he explains, drinking in your expression of awe. ”this one lady — she collects them herself. i see her by the beach nearly every time i go there.”
when you look up, his smile is serene. peaceful, if just a little bit tired. but he looks pleased, lips curling around silky syllables. ”i thought of you.”
it’s odd, you think. you aren’t a stranger to gifts; you get most of what you desire if you just say the word, an easy way for the king to keep you compliant. as if to make up for the plethora of experiences you’ve missed out on since your birth. and you’ve had more than a couple suitors, men and women, eager to gain your favour. 
but this — this particular gift…
”it’s pretty,” you murmur, finally, unable to voice even a sliver of the emotions clogging up your chest. shying away from his gaze, feeling your heart pulse against your ribcage. ”… i guess.”
suguru just smiles. always, always, always. no matter what you do. ”i’ll get you something else next time,” he promises, ready to go back to standing guard outside the castle. ”get some sleep, okay? be good.”
and you can’t bring yourself to protest. not even a tiny huff of don’t tell me what to do. you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod, soft and pliant, still gazing at the bottle of sea glass in your hands. like you might turn into one of those transparent pebbles, if you wish for it enough.
that night, you dream of waves crashing against sand, the taste of seafoam on your tongue. every colour in the world. a newfound, reawakened wish — a wish to see more of it.
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”are you trying to sneak out again?”
owlishly, all you can do is blink. propped up on the windowsill, immersed in the process of tying pillowcases and bedsheets together to form a rope. caught in the act — by none other than suguru, standing by the threshold, hand on his hip, watching you with silent disapproval. you didn’t think he’d come check on you this late.
a gulp. ”… no?”
and he sighs. walking towards you, brows furrowed, running a hand through his raven locks. you can tell he’s trying to be a little more sympathetic, this time, but it only makes the bitter taste on your tongue thicken. 
”look — i know it’s not fair to you, but the king and queen specifically ordered me —”
”i get it,” you cut him off, with a hiss, a little harsher than you meant to. you soften your voice before continuing. "i know. okay? i know.”
resigned, but frustrated, you clench the silken material of the bedsheets. glaring at them like it’s somehow their fault that the queen couldn’t bear an heir, that your father has a knack for sleeping around. like it’s their fault that he’s so ashamed of your existence that he doesn’t want you integrating into society on anything other than his own terms, until he’s dead and gone and doesn’t have to take accountability anymore. 
like it’s their fault that it’ll always be like this, forever, that it’s better not to hope for more.
(why can’t you just accept that?)
the knight before you exhales. troubled, watching your nails dig into the fabric, watching the way you bite down on your lip and rapidly blink. all signs of your frustration, your sadness, that you always try so hard to hide. 
”hey. how about this?” he tries to get your attention, voice soothing enough to coax you into raising your gaze. ”i’ll tell you a story instead.”
he stifles a chuckle, at the dubious look you send his way, teetering on the edge of a glare. slithering towards you. ”i’ve seen a lot of places. i can tell you about them, if you’d like.” he takes a seat right next to you, on the windowsill, a slice of the moon in bare view. ”what do you want to know?”
you’re silent, for a second. gnawing at your bottom lip, in contemplation, the tiniest bit of nervosity. like you aren’t quite sure if you’re allowed to speak your wishes aloud.
”… the woods.”
suguru blinks. a little caught off guard. 
his silence makes you want to bare your fangs, a bit. misinterpreting it as judgement. your voice comes out cold. ”what?”
but he’s quick to smooth over his features with a smile, as always, cocking his head amusedly. ”sorry — i was expecting you to say the sea, or something,” he stifles a chuckle. “it's the woods that you're so curious about?”
you pout. ”… you can see them from here.”
his head turns towards the window’s glass, squinting his eyes to see the sea of dark green in the distance, a cluster of thick trees. he hums. ”yeah, you can. well… that particular spot isn’t too bad. not many bandits or beasts.” your gaze stays glued onto his lips, every word that spills from them. ”there are wolves, though. this side of the kingdom is crawling with them.”
”they sell their fur,” you state.
(that’s one thing you do know. you spent more of your childhood around wolf pelts than your own parents. they might as well be your legal guardians.)
suguru nods. ”they do. it's a big portion of the kingdom’s exports… general market, as well.”
a frown tugs at your lips. you think of your fluffy childhood guardians, unable to howl or even make a sound; hunters turned decorations.
”isn’t that… kinda fucked up?”
he smiles, revealing no emotion. ”do you think it is?”
you only shrug. ”i’m not surprised that they eat us.” you think of all the stories you’ve heard, the fairy tales you grew up with. ”… if i was a wolf, i’d hate humans too.”
”would you, now?” familiar amusement, seeping from his tongue, soft crows’ feet by his cedar eyes. ”good thing you aren’t a wolf, then. we’re lucky.”
”mhm. you’d be my first target.”
that makes him chuckle, a little deeper this time, and you drink in the glimpse you get of his teeth, the fondness that dances across his face when he looks at you. 
a sudden urge overtakes you. 
”… i wanna know about something else.”
”oh?” he tilts his head, soft locks framing his kind eyes. ”and what would that be, my dear?”
”you.”
… 
for a moment, the mask falls. a silent, subtle kind of surprise, something in the way the tips of his fingers twitch that tells you he’s caught off guard. it coaxes you into continuing, following through with your question. swallowing the embarrassment. ”i wanna know more about you. how you became a knight, and… stuff.”
suguru looks at you with a strange glint in his eyes. undecipherable, unspoken, just watching as moonrays glide across your soft skin. ruffling your hair. 
a hum buzzes in his throat. he scratches at the back of his neck, resisting the urge to dodge your question. clicking his tongue. ”… well.”
anticipation blooms in your eyes, and you cross your legs, waiting patiently to hear him speak. he can’t deny you, when you look at him like that — so suguru simply exhales. a breath of indulgence. 
”it’s not a very interesting story,” he leads, closing his eyes in remembrance. ”they scouted me when i was pretty young…. a bit of a troublemaker, honestly, but i got lucky." memories flash behind his eyelids, fresh bruises, sliced fruit. bittersweet. ”ended up around some powerful people. they liked me. knighthood felt like the right choice.” 
he meets your entranced gaze, speaking with sincerity, devotion dipped in honey and holy water. sinking deeper still. ”it’s my purpose in life,” he breathes, a flurry of whispers on his tongue. heavier than either of you know. ”truly.”
you cock your head. ”being a knight?”
”protecting the weak,” he says. recites. like he’s said it a million times before, in the face of beasts, in the reflection of broken mirrors, a mantra to live and die by. ”protecting those who can’t protect themselves.”
the look in his eyes frightens you. deeper than the deepest lake, dark and murky, dragging him down. a devotion that smells of iron, tastes like steel. mania disguised as loyalty.
(knights love duty. almost as much as they love dying for it. that’s what your father always says.)
”but, honestly — this kind of thing isn’t bad,” he breaks you out of your trance, grinning sheepishly, almost boyishly. ”it’s been a while since i had so much fun on the job… thank you for that.”
he’s looking at you, right at you, into your eyes, an expression reserved for you and you alone. terribly earnest, grateful, a sincerity he wouldn’t show anyone else. ”honestly.”
you can do nothing but avert your gaze. swiftly, meekly, feeling heat crawl up your neck, blooming across your cheeks like the branches of a plum tree. suguru grins, gulping down the slightest coo — but he can’t resist the urge to poke fun at you a bit.
”… you’re a shy one, aren’t you?” he searches for your gaze, chuckling when he doesn’t find it. when you don’t let him. ”can’t even look people in the eye if they’re being nice to you… how precious.”
”oh, shut up,” you groan, glaring out into the night sky. blinking slowly, drowsily, biting back a yawn that your attentive knight still manages to notice. 
(he looks a little enamored.)
”ah… is my sweet little lord getting sleepy?”
”no,” you scoff, far too quick. ”i’m… tired.”
”of course.” he reaches out, carefully, to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. ”tired — not sleepy. that would be outrageous, wouldn’t it?” 
a yawn. ”it would.” 
low laughter bubbles up at the base of his throat, like seafoam, melting roses. deep and summery. ”alright. that’s enough stories for tonight, i think.” and with that, he gets up. ”let’s get you to bed, hm?”
rubbing your eyes, absently kicking your legs, you give him a slow nod of your head. making grabby hands at him that you’re sure you’ll be embarrassed about in the morning — but it feels easy, to be greedy, to know that your wants won’t be ignored when you’re with him. ”carry me, suguru.”
an indulgent smile. he doesn’t say anything, only curling his arms under your thighs, lifting you up and cradling you to his chest. you can feel his firm muscles, like this, trace them with your fingertips, hear the beating of his heart. tick-tock, tick-tock. a lullaby. a sense of safety, when you can’t tell where your heartbeat ends and his begins.
lost in that fuzzy, sleepy feeling, a blink away from falling into dreamland, fatigue washes over you — but you cling to his sleeve, even as he tucks you in, dragging the blanket up to cover you properly. 
”suguru,” you murmur, so quiet you doubt he hears it. ”will you tell me more stories tomorrow?”
”of course.” right before sleep coaxes you into its cradle, you feel the weight of his palm on your head; ruffling your hair. ”as many as you want, your highness.”
he smiles, as your eyes flutter shut, at the soft little breaths that flow from your lips. before he slips out, he blows out the candle on the nightstand, a silent prayer that your dreams will be kinder to you than his. 
— one week of nagging later, suguru’s resolve finally crumbles. it’s progress, at last, a tiny crack in his clockwork heart. 
but for once, it works in your favour.
”do you really want to see the outside world that badly?”
he’s got an arm locked around your waist, stopping you from one of your numerous escape attempts. you’ve gotten bolder, sneaking away the moment he takes his eyes off you, but suguru isn’t easy to fool — catching up to you just as you stepped outside the castle, now stuck in place under the portico. it’s to be expected, with that sixth sense of his, the one that seems to alert him as soon as you think the thought to get him in trouble. 
but you still can’t help but pout, huff and puff, pushing at his chest in a helpless attempt to break free. he’s sweet about it, gentle, but entirely unmoving. like a big, annoyingly handsome rock.
”what do you think?” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. ”no, of course not. this whole time, i’ve just been trying to escape for fun. like, as a bit. how could you tell?”
he rolls his eyes, and you break out into a grin. ”mind the sarcasm, please.” he barely resists the urge to pinch your side; letting you loose, instead, trusting you not to scurry away. he’d catch up to you instantly, anyhow. "i’m just saying, it might not be as interesting as you think —“
”what are you, stupid?”
”what did we say about letting people finish their sentences?” he raises a brow, and you try not to cower. rolling your eyes, instead. suguru just sighs. ”i understand why you want to leave. but you have a good life, here. better than most.”
”… i know that,” you grumble, biting down on your lip. a resignation in your eyes that your knight can't protect you from. ”i just —”
you sigh. 
”it’s just so suffocating.”
suguru falls into a contemplative silence. weighing his options, studying the flicker of emotions in your eyes, the tapping of your idle fingers. hands eager to fidget with something. 
moments pass, one at a time, a familiar lullaby of pitter patter ricocheting off the ground just outside your vision. the air smells of marigolds, burning wood, wet concrete. the beginnings of summer.
finally, he makes up his mind. 
”okay, okay.”
when you look up from the ground, what awaits you is an outstretched hand. a familiar palm, and a familiar knight, with a familiar smile on his face. ”but don’t get used to it, alright?”
you part your lips, but no sound comes out. gaping like a fish out of water, hunting for the right words. suguru waits. patient.
”w — hold on,” you stutter, eyes blooming with hesitant hope, studying him intently for any signs of trickery. ”you mean — seriously? like, for real?”
he shrugs. ”it’s my duty to keep you happy.” devotion clings to his tongue, sweet indulgence. ”figure i can make an exception this once.”
another moment passes.
(there isn’t a hint of deceit in his features.)
a grin breaks out across your lips, like a joyous bolt of lighting, and you lunge into his chest — throwing your arms over his broad shoulders, jumping up and down, planting a wet kiss against his cheek. bubbly, giddy, heart racing with disbelief. you don’t even have it in you to be bratty. ”thank you, thank you, thank you!”
suguru makes a choked out noise, a little comical, breath hitching in the back of his throat. stabilizing you with a palm on the small of your back, patting it softly, once or twice, before retracting his arm and pulling away. clearing his throat. ”… you’re welcome.”
(his ears burn a cherry red.)
”but this is our little secret,” he reminds you, firmly, collecting himself. or trying to. ”got it?”
”yep.”
”if anyone asks, you —”
”yep, yep, understood.” you brush him off, still grinning brightly. ”don’t worry! i won’t tell a soul, i promise. swear on my mother’s grave!”
your knight exhales. worried, maybe, a little exasperated — mostly just trying to mask how infectious your joy is. how addicted he is to it, now that he’s seen it up close. he’s only caught glimpses in the midst of your painting sessions; to see it directed at him instead of the wolf on your canvas is a treasure he won’t soon forget. 
sneakily, stealthily, like a pair of bad dogs, the two of you begin your journey to the woods on the horizon. wearing cloaks, sticking together, until the sun begins to set and the sky drains of colour. 
and before you know it, it’s right there in front of you. a narrow path into the woods, a cluster of trees, a world you’ve always dreamed of. dark and gritty, beautiful, brimming with bugs and sights yet to be seen. creatures you could only ever see in picture books. a dreamlike world that takes shape before you, like paint splattered on a canvas, as you follow suguru’s lead — right behind him, clinging to the fabric of his cloak, excitement flooding your veins. heart thumping erratically in your chest. 
when you’ve made it to a tiny clearing, you stop in your tracks. suguru’s holding a lantern, a flicker of orange in the dark green world before you, attracting fuzzy moths. proud trees stand tall all around you, keeping guard, mushrooms and forget me nots scattered across the dewy patches of grass. keeping them company. 
everything smells of life, earth, oak wood and thinly veiled secrets. you want to live here forever.
suguru turns to look at you, noticing the way you’ve stilled. completely mesmerized, bewitched, eyes gleaming with childlike happiness. he tuts, doing a bad job at hiding how pleased he is. the sound makes you meet his eye.
”careful,” he croons, inching closer. fingertips ghosting over your wrist, right above your pulsepoint. ”could be wolves around. stay close.”
you tilt your head, feigning confusion. ”i’ve already got one right next to me, though?”
the comment earns you a flat expression, unimpressed, and it pulls a giggle from out your throat. the corners of suguru’s lips curl up, unwillingly, as he shakes his head; exhaling a tired breath. exasperated. 
then he hums. ”well, at least you're aware.”
suddenly, he’s walking forward, slipping away, cold air replacing the buzzing warmth of his skin on yours. hot blood, ever flowing, hidden within his veins — pumped out from his heavy heart. it’s there and then it’s gone. tick, tock, one step after the other, until he’s turning around to face you again. unfurling his outstretched hand, waiting for you to grab hold of it. 
his long hair sways with the breeze, smooth and unburdened, black like the night sky above you. a starry glint in his eyes. his voice comes out deep, a raspy lilt, like the scraping of metal against concrete. 
when he smiles, you think you catch a glimpse of sharp teeth.
”will you trust this wolf to keep you safe?”
under the web of shadows cast by the trees, barely illuminated by the shivering moon, all you can do is watch him. his gleaming eyes, the curl of a toothy grin on his lips. a knight, a wolf, a friend.
your protector. 
finally, finally, you grasp onto his offered hand. his fingers intertwine with your own, a puzzle finally solved, and his palm feels a little calloused. skin littered with tiny scars, years of training and killing, but it’s still somehow so soft. nice and smooth. 
he’s warm. and now he’s smiling at you, like you put all the gold of the world into his palm. 
”yeah,” you grin, a little cheeky. stepping closer, clinging to him without restraint, knowing he’ll indulge you. ”keep me safe, wolfie.”
his laughter rings out into the air like a cicada song, sweet and nostalgic. or a howl, maybe. it makes you want to gnaw at his bones; memorize his taste, so you’ll never quite be without him. it’s not your fault he looks so chewable when he’s smiling like that.
”i will,” he promises, vows, pledges, hand on his heavy heart. knights and their rituals. ”you don’t have to worry about a thing. not while i’m here.”
and you don’t. you know you don’t. because suguru is the greatest knight, the coolest wolf, and his clockwork heart never ceases to tick. it won’t break under pressure, no matter how much you push — so you don’t bother holding back. wrapping both arms around his bicep, cozying up to him, tugging at his cloak with a pep in your step. 
”c’mon, c’mon!" you beckon him forward. "i wanna see how everything looks up close.”
and he just lets you manhandle him, for a bit. following your lead. ”of course,” he croons. ”your wish is my command, your highness.”
the night stretches on, seemingly never-ending, like the branches of the oak tree you find in the heart of the woods. broken, beautiful, stretching out in all directions — as if wishing to engulf the world. a garden of forking paths, covered in jagged bark, but still somehow so warm to the touch. you’re sure there’s a heartbeat in there, somewhere. maybe a couple of swords too.
all good things must come to an end. but you refuse to leave the comfort of your mossy haven until suguru promises to bring you back, someday, maybe, if you play nice. it’s a deal that you’re willing to take.
only then do you begin your journey back towards the castle. having gotten your fill, for now, left to wallow in the newfound sights etched into your memory. still clinging to your knight like a child with their favorite doll, babbling into his ear about something or another. about how you’re almost sure you saw a wolf in the bushes, about how pretty the cicadas’ songs were. how you’re gonna convince him to take you there every single day.
the sun is yawning, stretching its endless limbs out, getting ready to rise and envelop the world. the sky is a calm blue, soon to be painted orange and pink, but you aren’t tired at all. you must sound a little incoherent, but suguru nods along to your every word. listening attentively.
so kind. so patient. sure, he’s a tease, and more than a little patronizing — but you don’t think you’ve ever liked anyone this much before. it’s weird. it’s fun. 
(you wonder if he feels the same.)
”hey, suguru?”
he keeps his eyes locked on the road ahead, but still spares you a brief glance, just to let you know you have his full attention. a second of hesitance is all your sleepy brain allows you, curiosity enveloping most of your functioning thoughts.
”would you… i mean. if i was, like… a different person —” you pause. suguru quirks a brow, and you suddenly feel a little flustered. ”um, what i mean is! like, if the king ordered you to be someone else’s knight… would you protect them like you do with me?”
he blinks. once, then twice, meeting your hopeful gaze. stifling a yawn, and parting his lips. 
”obviously.”
your face falls. lips dropping down into a soft pout, rich with disappointment, paired with a barely audible huff. suguru furrows his brows, playfully, smiling in the way he always does when he’s about to tease you.
”ah, my bad,” he croons. ”were you expecting something else? a… forbidden romance, perhaps?”
before you can begin to protest, warmth rushing to your cheeks, he stops walking. dropping down on one knee, dramatically, with a flutter of his cloak. theatrical. 
gently, he grabs hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips as his eyes flutter shut. you bite back a squeak. his voice comes out low, sultry, honeyed — so heavy with emotion that it’s obvious he’s faking it. ”the only person i yearn to protect is you, my liege,” his breath feels hot against your skin. ”i could never love another. i exist for you, and you alone.” 
suddenly, he’s smirking. you feel it against the knots of your knuckle, right before he cracks a single eye open. glimmering with deep amusement. ”… is that better?”
and you huff. sharply, doing all that you can to avoid getting flustered, his heavy gaze burning right into your own. it really, really doesn’t work. ”you’re so mean.”
”not mean,” he chuckles, rising to his feet. dusting off his cloak. ”i’m just… managing your expectations, my lord. they’d have my head on the chopping block if i so much as touched you without their consent — you know that.”
another little huff. ”i never said i wanted you to…” 
(you do, though.)
suguru hums. ”i’m your knight,” he reminds you, as always, until you get tired of hearing it. steadfast, irrefutable. ”that’s all. remember?”
something bitter settles on your tongue. 
but you nod. ”that’s right,” you hum. ”mine.”
a teasing mirth flickers through his eyes, like the first setting sunrays reflecting off cathedral glass. reverent, dyeing the world in all the colour it asks for. and he chuckles, raspy, amused. ”possessive little thing…”
that’s right, you remind yourself. he’s your knight. your lying, teasing, playwright of a knight. always wearing a mask, hiding behind a suit of armor, playing one role or another. only baring himself under the light of the sun, when no one is around to see. he’s infuriatingly patient, endlessly loyal, the greatest bootlicker you’ve encountered in your life. but he’s kind, too. maybe a little too kind. 
and he always, always kneels. 
such a large man, all toned muscle and tall stature, broad shoulders and a firm chest — kneeling at your feet. like a loyal dog. with a rustle of armor, a flutter of fabric, a sigh and a smile. as soon as you ask for it.
”c’mon. let’s hurry back,” you hear him say, biting back another yawn. ”before anyone finds out i kidnapped you. don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?”
”i kinda do.”
a silent look. unimpressed. it’s the most sincere expression he knows how to make, and also the most comical. ”careful,” he looks ahead, hiding his amused smile. ”wolves eat bratty heirs, you know? better stay on my good side, your highness.”
a bout of sleepy giggles. you curl an arm around his bicep, putting your weight onto him, but he doesn’t stumble. ”sorry, mr wolf! please, by all means, eat my dear father instead.”
”don’t be disrespectful.”
”sorry,” you quip, entirely unapologetic. ”i forgot you had a crush on him. that’s my ba — ow!”
suguru brushes by you, walking forward, hiding his growing grin. leaving you with an ache in your hip and two wide eyes. 
”hurry up, my lord. we don’t have all day.”
”wha — you pinched me!” you stumble after him, barely containing your quiet delight. ”they’ll have your head for this, you know!”
silent laughter. you don’t need to hear it to know that it’s there, just ahead of you, tucked into crows’ feet and a curl of his lips.
suguru always kneels.
but, sometimes, he talks to you as if you’re equals. sometimes he takes the lead, pinches your hip, tells you off a little. teasing, patient, but there’s an edge to him that he doesn’t always hide. sometimes, he lets you see it, and you figure that must make you at least a little bit special.
sometimes, he feels like your best friend.
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careless, careless, careless.
how could he ever be so careless?
everything blurs into a puddle of red. murky, sticky, everywhere all at once. all he sees is red, all he feels is burning. his heartbeat pulses at the base of his throat, bottom lip bruised and aching from hours of sinking his teeth into the flesh, over and over — every single nerve of his body running on adrenaline and nothing else.
(adrenaline and fear, maybe, but they’ve always been synonymous. never one without the other.)
the slaughter is mindless. suguru knows that’s how they like it, anyhow — knights aren’t supposed to think. they don’t need to. 
suguru certainly isn’t. cutting his way through the bandit’s den, practically growling, sword painted such a dark shade of red that he doubts he’ll ever be able to wipe it clean. harsh slashes, pure instinct, wildfire inside his veins, iron on his tongue. 
suguru isn’t thinking, he’s hunting. sniffing like a bloodhound. eyes scanning the area before him like a hungry beast.
suguru is hunting — for you.
and when he sees you, at last, tied up and barely conscious, he’s almost certain he’s going to grow claws, fangs, matted fur. that he’s going to turn into a beast beneath the fading moonlight.
but he falls to his knees, instead, like a wounded dog. throwing his burganet off, with a clatter, crawling closer. heaving breaths, untying you with shaky hands, greedy fingertips hunting for a pulsepoint —
and only when he finds it does he allow himself the luxury of breathing again.
when you come to, veins dragged down by a fuzzy sensation, your vision is blurred. foggy, dull colours on the canvas of your mind, gradually washed away as you struggle for control. you stir, and finally see the figure above you. 
what you see is a knight, a wolf, a beast beneath the moonlight. a kind, kind man.
suguru.
bloodied armor. sweaty, messy hair, sticking to his forehead. pure panic in his bloodshot eyes. he cradles your face, cold metal on your cheek, dirty and smelling of iron. he moves his mouth; you delude yourself into thinking that his bottom lip is trembling. forming around familiar vowels.
he’s saying your name.
there must be something wrong with you, you belatedly realize. the last one to do so. because you’re hurt, scared, but you still feel a skip of your heartbeat. 
(he finally said it.)
you muster all the strength at your disposal, eyelids fluttering. and you try to answer, you do, reaching for that thread between your brain and your tongue — but it comes out as a garbled little thing, more air than noise. 
it’s enough. the tense crease between his brows melts away, and he sighs.
”oh, thank the heavens.”
another sensation. he’s touching your hand, now, cold metal on warm skin, bringing it up to his lips; a shaky little exhale brushing against the knots of your knuckle. his lips are chapped. 
then he’s scooping you up, cradling you close, as close as metaphysically possible, as if willing to cut his stomach open to fit you inside. a firm grip, comforting, stable. desperate, a mother wolf carrying her cub to safety, by the skin of her teeth. his hair tickles your skin, but you don’t mind.
only when he brings you back to the castle does everything fall into place. he explains everything, as you sit in bed, still recovering. a sudden attack, from within the castle, a kidnapping. some enemies of the king, a scandal to do with you and your blood. something, something, something. you’ve grown used to not understanding why you keep getting hurt. and you’re too distracted by the sullen face of the knight in front of you to pay attention.
suguru wasn’t there to stop it — wasn’t there to save you, be your knight in dashing armor. the king had invited him to a game of chess, and you had been adamant in your refusal to join them.
so you don’t understand why he’s apologizing.
he’s smiling, but it’s weak, as flimsy as a piece of paper. his lying smile, tight-lipped, betrayed by the redness of his eyes, the puffy skin beneath them. dark crescents. he sits by your bedside and looks a little like he wants to curl into a ball. 
”i’m sorry.”
and ah, you think; there it is. guilt. always, always clinging to him, a ghost haunting him wherever he goes. it’s been there since the beginning, in the scar reaching for his shoulder, the nature of his never-fading smile. guilt, guilt, guilt. you wonder if he's ever gone without it. you wonder if knights begin to crumble when they stop feeling ashamed. 
he looks sad.
with a breathless inhale, you part your lips. you want to tell him that he has nothing to apologize for, that you’re fine now — that you could never be mad at him. not really, never truly, never at him. you want to tell him that he’s your favorite person, not just your favorite knight, that he’s allowed to make mistakes without demanding that he suffer for them. 
you want to tell him that it’s okay, really. seriously.
but all that leaves your lips is a meek little sniffle. as the shock of it all finally settles, sinking deep into your bones, the fear of being captured, the dull ache of your skull meeting the ground. you can’t tell him any of the things you want to, and you feel so awful — 
because suguru’s face falls. like you just thrust a knife into his sternum and twisted it. he looks like he could cry, too.
”i’m sorry,” his voice cracks, right down the middle. like a broken vase. ”i’m so sorry.” it’s not at all what you want to hear, but you can’t tell him that either. he’s bundling you up before you know it, dragging you into the comfort of his chest, one large palm on the back of your head; tugging you closer still. he smells of soap and oak wood and peach blossoms. ”it was scary, wasn’t it?”
and you nod. into his neck, wet tears brushing against his skin. not stable enough to act tough. you don’t think he is, either.
suguru exhales, shaky, clutching you like he could lose you if he lets go. lose himself. he knows you’re scared, but you let him soothe you. it means something, he thinks. it means something that you let him come so close, closer than anyone’s ever been. so he swallows the guilt until it’s no longer clogging up the back of his throat, if only so his voice can flow out through the gap, give you the comfort you need. just rubbing your back until you calm down, apologizing silently — over and over again. manic, like the tick-tock of a clock.
until your voice breaks him out of it.
”it’s not your fault.”
he stiffens. still holding you, feeling your heartbeat settle down, hearing your voice break out of your throat. it comes out as a weak croak, with just the slightest hint of disapproval.
he gulps.
”don’t worry about me, right now,” he hushes you. a silent plea. ”i’m not the one who’s injured.”
”suguru —” you sigh, almost a hiss. ”i hit my head. once. that’s all.” you wipe away the wetness of your cheeks, biting back a sniffle. ”… you’re acting like i’m fucking dying. cut it out.”
(for once, he’s relieved to hear that sharp edge of your voice. it means you’re feeling better.)
a weak inhale. ”… they kidnapped you. it must’ve been terrifying. please, just…” and a tired exhale. ”please just don’t strain yourself.”
”it wasn’t your fault.”
”your highne —”
”i’m serious.” you’re pulling away, suddenly, clasping onto his cheeks with your tearstained palms. squishing his face together. ”it wasn’t your fault. it was mine.”
he shakes his head, eager to protest, so you squish his cheeks with more force, and shake his head for him. like a misbehaving dog. ”nope. if you even think about apologizing, i’ll start crying again.”
he lets out a huff. frowning, sadly, a downcast pair of eyes.
”don’t pout. i’ll bite you.”
it’s slight, barely even there at all — but you think the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, just by a hair, exhaling through his nose with just the slightest hint of amusement.
he places his palm over yours. 
a moment passes, slow and steady, both of you catching your breaths. calming down, letting the fear of it all seep out of your aching bones. you hope the warmth of your skin against his soothes him as much as it soothes you. 
”… you know, your highness,” he murmurs, softly. meeting your puffy eyes with his tired pools of amber gold. ”there’s something i never told you.”
you blink. he continues.
”just the night before the king reached out to me… i had a dream.” he musters a weak, exhausted little smile. ”dreams… i don’t have them very often. and when i do, they’re nothing good. but this dream…” 
his eyes flutter shut. a curtain closing, a raven taking flight, the tick-tock of a heartbeat. you can’t look away. ”it stuck out to me.”
silence.
your voice comes out soft, like the bedsheets beneath you, the man before you. a tiny breath of a question. ”… what was it about?”
he smiles. smoothing a thumb over your knuckle, reverent, as if memorizing every ridge and dip.
”a fox.”
”it had…” his hand slips from the small of your back, reaching for your cheek, pinching it gently. ”a cheeky smile.”
your skin heats up, beneath his touch. and you blink, not saying a word, because there isn’t any need to. all the words you could ever want have already been painted out.
(well, maybe not quite all.)
”suguru.” you lean close, just a little, drinking him in. and he listens, as always, so you don’t bother beating around the bush. swallowing any embarrassment your tired mind can still feel. because your knight is right in front of you, eyes still red from crying, and you want him to be happy. “i think you’re my favorite person.”
he stills.
then he’s burning up. 
”wha — where did that come from?” he stammers, a strawberry hue to his ears, his neck, the tips of his fingers. enveloping him like a blanket of warmth.
you only shrug. ”you told me the truth. figured i should return the favour, for once.” a giddy, exhausted smile. “we’re both awful liars, huh?”
suguru opens his mouth. then he closes it, again, desperate to collect himself. you think he must be a little too exhausted to, and you wish you could say you felt bad. ”you… you can’t just —”
he squeezes his eyes shut. sighing. giving up, the gears of his mind grinding to a halt. your grin blooms wider.
”hehe.” you poke at his flushed cheek, and he cracks a single eye open. ”you’re blushing.”
he huffs, leaning away from your touch, and you find yourself enjoying the reversal of your usual roles. very much so. he tries to smile, tries to get one up on you, but he only blushes a deeper shade of red once your words reach his ears. 
so he settles for using cheap tricks.
”you’re hallucinating,” he scoffs, shoving your head into the fluffy pillows all around you. ever so gently, listening to your muffled giggles. trying to stifle his own joy. ”go back to sleep.”
”my blushy knight,” you coo, and he drags the blanket over your head. biting down on his lip to stop himself from joining your bubbly laughter, blushing more than ever. 
(the word knight sounds very pretty, when it’s falling from your lips.)
”i swear,” he exhales, heavy and exasperated, but you can hear the smile in his voice. ”just what am i to do with you?”
it’s fond. delicate, even in his bouts of teasing, the light instances of manhandling. and you’re happy, because he’s not apologizing anymore, and he’s happy because you aren’t crying anymore. give and take. there’s a rhythm to it, a point where everything else becomes background noise, whether it’s memories of a kidnapping or a decade-old guilt.
he stays with you all night, even after you’ve fallen asleep. just watching you, safeguarding you, checking your pulse every now and then. content to watch as your chest rises and falls, with the tender ticking of your heartbeat.
that night, you dream of a kind, kind wolf, and a painting yet to be finished. 
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before you lies a field of stars.
you’re seated on a blanket, with a pretty knight to your left, up on top of a grassy hill. daffodils bloom around you, sweet nectar hanging in the air, a field of sunflowers waving at you from below. dragonflies greet you with a scratchy song. 
everything is perfect. a midnight rendezvous, a picnic under the stars — suguru’s own idea. to celebrate the time that you’ve spent together.
(well, that part was your idea. but you’re sure he appreciates it, too.)
the basket next to you is filled with fruit and berries, marmalade and jam, bottles of herbal tea. suguru’s delicious sandwiches. you bite into one of them, humming happily, and he’s quick to brush the occasional crumb from the corner of your lip, ghosting over your skin with a smile.
there’s another basket, too, just in front of you, that you brought on your own. hiding a secret; one you're just about to unveil. 
you clear your throat to get his attention.
like clockwork, he’s looking at you. listening, when  you tell him to close his eyes, only giving you a questioning raise of his brow and an amused exhale. 
you’re quick to lean forward, uncovering the basket, revealing the secret you’ve hidden so well. suguru is still waiting, indulgent, patient. you feel a little hesitant, but still part your lips.
“… okay. you can open them, now.”
he does. instantly, two ravens taking flight, and the sight that awaits them is that of a painting; a painting of a wolf, in the middle of the woods, empty armors and wilted sunflowers all around it. dragonflies and dragonflies, a knight just out of view.
he stares, silently, and you do your best to hide your growing nervosity. even as he takes it into his lap, and your gaze falls to the blanket below you. ”it’s… not my best work, but —” his eyes stay glued onto the painting, as you stumble blindly for the right words to say. wringing your hands together, clutching at the fabric of your sleeves. ”i’d… like you to have it. i mean, unless you —”
”thank you.”
you raise your head.
suguru is gazing at the canvas with the softest pair of eyes you’ve ever seen. melting amber, crinkled at the edges, accompanied by a sweet grin. 
”i’ll treasure it,” he vows, meeting your eyes, voice dripping with warmth. hand on his heart, and you can’t even poke fun at it. ”always.”
his earnest acceptance is enough to fluster you, enough to make you feel as it your heart is about to collapse, but he continues to look at the painting with enough awe to fill an empty lake with water, and it makes you terribly shy. 
until his smile drops.
”uh, actually — i…”
now it’s your turn to stare, silently, as he fumbles with something in the basket at his feet. gentle, as he takes out glass jars and wrapped sandwiches. out comes a sheet of paper. 
then he’s clearing his throat. handing it to you, pointedly avoiding your gaze. ”i’m not an artist, so you know. i just…” he coughs, a little out of his element. “well. here.”
with delicate hands, you accept it, bringing it down to your lap. big, curious eyes taking it in.
it’s a sketch — made with coal, a little smudged, but awfully charming. pretty, delicate.
it’s a sketch of a fox.
wide-eyed, all you can do is stare. gaze flitting up to meet his own, his nervous expression, before falling back to the little canine. ”you — this…” back and forth, over and over again. ”for — ?” 
you point to yourself. 
suguru only chuckles. ”yes, it’s for you. who else?” he taps the pads of his fingers against the handle of the basket, watching you silently admire the mischievous fox. not saying anything; so he continues.
”like i said; i’m not an artist. you can always throw it away, if you’d —”
”i’m gonna frame it.”
”i'm gonna frame it,” you repeat, eyes shining with sincerity. a little manic. ”i’ll hang it on the wall of the castle hallway so everyone can see it. it’ll be there for centuries to come, passed down —”
”please don't —”
”d’you think a gold frame would fuck up the vibe? maybe a modest silver is best.” you turn to face him, ignoring his blatant embarrassment. ”oooh, hang on! father knows this guy who makes them with real minerals. i’ll just —”
”your highness,” the knight cuts you off, almost with a squeak. ”please. it’s just a dumb drawing. i just… wanted to give it to you. that’s all.”
a pause. you look into his eyes, flickering with hesitance, an earnest desire for your approval only. so you hum, albeit a little hesitant.
”… alright. if you say so. i’ll hang it in my room, then.”
he sighs; relieved. ”that’s better. really, you —”
”thank you.” you whisper, blinking away the wetness at your lash-line. staring at the sketch with a dreamy, dreamy smile. ”i love it.”
you grin, happily, practically beaming. suguru wants to keep it there, always, on those pretty lips; he wants to lay his life on the line to protect it. but something tells him that would just make it fall. 
finally, everything clicks into place. the air fills with the scent of herbal tea, fresh strawberries, acrylic paint and hushed whispers. your own ritual, repeated over and over, like a loving waltz. 
as always, it’s suguru who breaks the silence. shatters it with the tip of his tongue. 
”hey,” he calls, softly. “my lord.”
mouth full of bread, you simply look at him. chewing silently, attention piqued. swallowing with a gulp. he places his folded hands on his lap, exhaling a little breath. ”… i’ve been thinking.”
”uh oh.”
silently, he gives you one of those flat, unimpressed looks of his, and you quiet down with a grin and another mouthful of bread. he quirks a brow, exhaling amusedly, then shakes his head and continues.
”i retract my earlier statement.”
when you glance up again, he’s smiling. showing more teeth than usual, a little wider, a little wolfish. a little more himself. you want to paint it, keep it hidden away somewhere only you can see.
”if it was someone else — anyone else…” he trails off, tasting the words on his tongue. “i doubt i’d feel this way. i doubt i’d want to protect them as fervently.” his voice flows out like a river of gold, just a little scratchy. it always is, when it sounds this sincere. 
he meets your eyes, and everything falls into place. 
”you’ve become precious to me,” he admits. ”i can't remember what it felt like to not be yours.”
his tongue curls around a familiar set of syllables, and your name seeps from his lips like a prayer, a vow, a trickle of honey and wine. devotion sticks to his tongue, to the vowels, a heavy fondness — something devout. something you've only ever heard from the mouths of priests.
and then he’s smiling. 
”i think i’ll be your knight until the day i die,” he breathes, and deep down you know it’s a vow. “even if the king discards me of that title.”
silence. except for an increasingly loud mantra of tick-tocks, from the depths of your own chest, echoing in your ears. your knight is in front of you, and he’s yours, and he’s smiling like he loves you. like he always will.
”… suguru.”
he hums, eyes lidded, blinking slowly. serenely. he lets you cling to him, pull him close, practically dragging him into your lap.
”stay with me,” you plead, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. too desperate to feel embarrassed. ”forever. promise me.”
an exhale, right by your ear. it sounds so fond you could cry. 
“i promise,” he whispers, fingers intertwining with your own. a perfect puzzle piece, a functional clockwork. lifting your hand, bringing his glossy lips to your knuckle; where they belong. ”until death tears me away from you.”
”it won’t,” you deadpan, partly to distract him from the growing heat of your fingertips. mostly because it’s true. ”you won't let it.”
he smiles against your knuckle, breathing out an airy laugh. ”clever little thing…” his free hand goes to rest on your spine, as always, and you lean back to see him properly. knowing he’ll catch you if you fall.
“.. but yeah," he sighs. "i won’t.”
before you know it, you’re leaning back in. because his eyes are the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen, and his hair is just a little tousled, and he looks so kissable it aches.
his jaw trembles, a little, when you press your lips against the curve of it. his whole body seems to still, for a moment, and you pull back just to see if he’s blushing. he is. 
but he must have anticipated your teasing, because he’s tucking you under his chin before you can see it through. pressing you close. and he tuts, a click of his silver tongue, a touch of restraint. ”… you little tease,” comes a whisper. ”how am i supposed to hold back now?”
”don’t hold back, dummy,” you grin, muffled against the column of his throat. you just barely resist the urge to sink your teeth into the skin. ”you’re a bad actor, anyway. the worst.”
and he is. he’s been looking at your lips this whole time — he couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.
suguru laughs, breathy, overflowing with fondness. chest rumbling with the noise, blending together with the rhythmic thumping of his clockwork heart. ”okay,” comes a soft lull of his tongue. ”i won’t, then.”
a drowsy feeling overtakes you, just as you feel his lips meet the crown of your head. it’s not much, but it’s a start. and it’s tender, tender enough to get you choked up, to get you to close your eyes to stop any tears from forming. because one person in this kingdom understands you, and he tells you that he’ll never leave. and you think you can actually find it in you to believe him. 
one person’s clockwork heart never breaks for you, and maybe that’s enough to convince you to stop trying to push it there.
”you can sleep, if you’d like,” is whispered against your hair. soft, soothing, his palm on your spine. ”i’ve got you. always.”
(one person in this world can make you feel safe, with just four little words. and isn’t that something?)
so you doze off, on the shoulder of your very own knight. your favorite knight, always and forever, a sword at his hip that was forged to protect you. or so he’ll tell you, years from now, when he’s got you in his lap, when there isn’t any need for him to act anymore.
and you dream a perfect dream. a dream of a wolf, and a fox, and a garden of stars.
2K notes · View notes
lovetei · 8 months
Note
Okay, this have been on my mind for a while now…
So! MC in the manga is a sheep (get turn into a sheep because they aren’t familiar with the magic? Idk). I was just wondering that at the end of the exchange programme how would the boys react to Mc’s “true form”
This is such an interesting thing to write 🖤
By the way, this is another request stuck in my drafts, I promise I'll try to make up for it and post more :')
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Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program
Warnings: Slightly suggestive, no proofreading, wrong grammar, spelling errors, kind of long
Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Links: Masterlist
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LUCIFER
It was the end of the exchange program and he's seeing you off
A large portal behind your back
For you, it might be the portal that will lead you to the freedom and whatever normality this program took away from you for a whole year
The portal that you've been waiting for
But for him, it's nothing but a spiral of magic that takes away the only comfort he has
The comfort that he seek for
And his twisted heart aches whenever he remembers it
But he hides it off with a smile and a wave
He waved at you one last time before you turned around
"Uhm... I feel weird-"
What?
The extreme feeling of despair left his body for a second and was covered with confusion
That soon turned into worry as your sheep form completely fell to the ground
The noises you're making is not normal and they're all panicking because they've never heard of it before
And the fact that you started glowing didn't ease their mind.
Could it be that some higher demon planted some spell inside of you?
IS THAT SPELL SUCCESFUL?!-
MC..?
He looked at you shock
No, more like-
He looked at your new form, shocked.
The way your naked body is laying on the ground right in front of him...
Right in front of them..?
He can't help but sigh and thought that, everything would have been fine, perfect even, if you turned into this form in front of him
But no, you just have to turn into your original self in front of everyone
Now he can't even embrace you.
All he did was take his coat off and throw it to your body as his face flush red.
You turned around to look at them as you clutch his coat with that adorable expression before you run off and enter the portal
He's left there, shocked and speechless
He didn't know what the hell just happened
But what's he's sure of is that he's going to get you back
And you're going to show that expression to him one more time
But that time, it will just be the two of you, alone.
MAMMON
This man is bawling his eyes out
His original plan is to watch you leave as he cries and once you're gone he will walk it off like a real man, with tear stains of course.
He set his mind to it, gambling for the whole week after you leave so that he can forget you
Even for just a moment
But no,
You won't even let him have the peace of mind
Or leave him with a nice memory
Instead your sheep body dropped to ground and made everyone think that you're about to die!
But you know what more you did?
You turned into a human!
Your human form!
Naked!
He went from 😭 -> 🤨 -> 😮 -> 😭 -> 😳 in a mere minute
He just stood there with a flushed face
A blushing dumbass who don't know what to do but watch as Lucifer threw his coat on you
And watch you run away with that cute expression, embarrassed expression on your face.
Gosh
You drive him insane
Now he's all fired up, willing to destroy the mortal world just to get you back in his arms.
LEVIATHAN
This one too is bawling his eyes out
While holding his camera of course
He's filming every part of this
He's standing there like "WAHHH MCCC! W-Wait is the angle r-right..? I need to capture how b-beautiful MC is..." while sobbing words out.
His hands are holding the camera shakily but the movement suddenly stopped when you said you feel weird...
His eyes shot open and his tears stopped
Are you okay..?
. . .
He's malfunctioning the moment you dropped to the ground and started to glow
And he malfunctioned even more when you turned into your human born, as naked as the moment you were born.
Now his sniper instincts came in and the camera is as focused as a laser
He's staring at you wide eyed, face as red as a tomato and his mouth agape
He doesn't know what's happening
But what he's sure of is that he needs to film it
Everything
The moment you grabbed Lucifer's coat and hugged it to cover yourself
And the moment you stood up and looked at them with that cute expression
But the moment you left, he hid the camera
This film is for his eyes only...
He's gonna need this for a 'project'...
And you know what else he needs?
Tissues.
SATAN
He's smiling everything off as he watches you leave
But you know deep down some anger is boiling
Considering how hot his pact mark is getting
Because, why do you have to leave..? Did he fail to satisfy your standards..?
He can't help but roll his eyes internally
But in the middle of his self talk, you spoke
"I kind of... Feel weird-"
And then you dropped to the ground and he's suddenly panicking
Any other feeling except for confusion flushed out of his body
He ran up to you immidiately but the light dimmed down and your naked body lay before him
He can't help stop in his tracks and just look at you and blush
Before he can even register anything, Lucifer's coat is already hugging your body
Which causes another wave of wrath to hit him
He just glared at Lucifer and saw that he's not even paying attention to him
He's looking at you
With a foreign expression in his face
So he also looked at you and...
Why the fuck did you have to look so majestic..?
You met his gaze and your face flushed before you ran out and entered the portal
He just remained still
Looking at the ground where you once sat
He can't move, he's shaking so much...
He feels like he's about to explode...
ASMODEUS
"WAHHH MCCC!" He whined out as he openly sobbed
He loves you so much!
Just why do you have to leave him!
He can't help but pout at you as you say your final goodbye
But what about him?
Why do you have to leave him too!
I mean it's understandable that you want to leave them because they're all such nuisances to you why him?!
He can't help it-
What do you mean you're feeling weird?
He's slowly walking to your direction
But you started to glow..?
Suddenly he's bearing his teeth expecting enemies around
Oh wait...
Oh...
You're...
Naked...
His mind is scrambled
He completely stopped working
And he'll probably be out of service for the next few days.
BEELZEBUB
He's probably standing there with Belphie in his arms
He's giving you his infamous puppy smile hoping that you'll give him what he wants
Hoping that you'll fall for it like the usual and ran up to him an dsay he's cute instead of leaving
But there's a part in his heart that knows you won't
He's sad and happy at the same time
He's happy because you'll finally live the way you do back then
But he's sad because you have to leave to do so...
Huh?
You're feeling weird..?
You're glowing, MC!
He's shaking Belphegor awake now
What's happening to you-
. . .
He'll be one of the most respectful and cover his eyes
But he's secretly peaking through the gaps
Your flushed face...
Looks so cute...
You look...
You looked delicious...
Just enough to eat...
Now he's hungry.
Hungry for something... New?
Something that includes you.
BELPHEGOR
He's awake actually
He watched everyone, he heard everyone gave their final speeches to you
But when you were about to leave
He forcefully shut his eyes and leaned on Beel
Hoping that his sin would take over and he fell into some deep slumber
But why of all times... Why isn't it cooperating..?
His brows are furrowed as he forces himself to sleep
But suddenly everyone dropped silent...
So you finally left?
Wha- why is Beel shaking him?-
MC?!
Why the fuck are you glowing now?!
No no no...
Is it the work of some demon?!
Who-
. . .
You're... Naked...
In front of everyone...
Haha...
Beel better hold him back or else he's about to run after you and do what his brothers can't
But he knows you won't like that.
So he clinged to Beel-
Haha...
Why do you look like that?!
That's his last thought before he ran and almost caught you but the portal closed
Immidiately.
"Hmm... What a shame~"
He'll make sure he'll catch you next time.
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certifiedlucifersimp · 9 months
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Lucifer : Why is MC sitting on your shoulders?
Diavolo : They like to feel tall!
MC : *happy sheep noises*
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akurui-shizen7 · 1 year
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Diavolo, going over [MC]'s resume: Okay, so right here, it states that you’re creative.
[MC]: Yes
Diavolo: Okay... may I know what you create
[MC]: Problems.
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misdollface · 1 year
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AHHHH!! DIAVOLO!(⁠ノ⁠ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ⁠)⁠ノ♥️♥️♥️
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bones-of-a-rabbit · 4 months
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Fluff n Fur AU, where Reader is a sheep and Sun and Moon are wolves definitely sled dogs, some (rlly not great ik srry lol) concept art/an attempt at making actual designs hjfjskdhfskjfhsdhfdkj
(im torn between making them Just Animals that walk on four legs or making em like. Disney-level sorta furry/animals that r animals but walk on two legs/occasionally wear clothes idk man i just work here im sorry)
also some more doodles bc i thought at least one of em was cute skdjfhsjdfhskjd
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throughdesiresmirror · 7 months
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18+ | Minors DNI
Sudden thought hit me of Solomon abusing his pact control over Barbatos and Asmodeus, just to pleasure you for his own entertainment...Like he'll be first just sitting back, watching it all unfold. As he's trying to keep his composure before you. But the way you're a moaning whimpering mess before him, because of what he commanded Asmo and/or Barb to do to you. Just is a lot to handle now.
I can see Solomon soon enough joining in to be a part of the fun, or telling the others to leave the room. Just to have you all to himself. Either way, you're going to have a long pleasurable night because of him.
(I'm tempted to write more for this but we'll see lol)
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kedsandtubesocks · 3 days
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seasons of you (year 1 - spring)
Farmer!Joel Miller x F!Reader
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summary: it’s your very first spring living in the valley & you’re very sure Joel Miller already wants you leave
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a new farmer & has a family but no physical description, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s) very light use of gendered language, handyman & farmer!Joel, grumpy!Joel, wound tending & blood imagery, discussion of family loss with light navigation of grief, Ellie being Joel’s daughter, secret softie!Joel, alcohol consumption mention, use of nickname, budding romance
word count: 5.4k
a/n: our first ‘Joel’ fic for our stardew AU series! Here’s to starting this new aventure with y’all! I couldn’t have the strength to post this without @swiftispunk @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy @burntheedges @perotovar you angels don’t know how much I appreciate y’all and am so grateful for you babes…and to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡
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No one in Pelican Town hates you more than Joel Miller does. George, the crabby older elderly man in town, might be a close second, but Joel has him beat by miles.
For someone so incredibly handsome, almost beautiful in a rugged wilderness way with his misty mountain gray hair and sharp lovely nose, his glare could wither your entire family farm’s field.
“He’s just an ass sometimes.” Your Dad had told you with a sigh over the phone. “Been that way even when your gramps was around.”
At first you didn’t want to fully admit it but yeah, Joel is a prickly cactus of a man.
He owns a farm further down the path from yours. You love walking by it when you take the long way home and getting to spot all the sheep roaming around his fields. He’s also the town’s handyman.
“A jack of all trades, more like it.” Pierre, the main store owner, snickered that to you while Joel was in the store fixing a light fixture.
After that Joel helped you set up your first fencing gate. Then he fixed your sink. And then your water heater.
It’s been a lot and you know it. You feel guilty at how bad you can’t seem to get a hang of this new life yet. Your grandpa did it, thrived even. You can too, or you hope you can.
Until Joel glares at you like you’re a bug ready to squash, then you feel incredibly small.
Once you physically and accidentally ran into him walking out of the blacksmith’s shop when he was heading in. You sputtered out an apology, but without a single word Joel walked past you as if you weren’t even worth his time.
One night you went to the town’s saloon hoping to maybe mingle and get to know everyone better. But simply seeing him sitting inside made you turn on your heels and scramble out.
From that point on you’ve been avoiding him.
But now unfortunately, a few paces away from Joel Miller’s farm, your hand bleeds out a bit aggressively.
“Shit.” You hiss, slipping off your backpack to search for your mini first aid kit.
Yesterday you stubbornly tried fixing your fence and accidentally scrapped your hand pretty bad against the wood. Earlier you believed you wrapped it good enough but now the blood soaking through the bandaid mocks you.
“You alright?!”
The sharp accented drawl rings out loud in the early morning and fear collides into you.
Of course Joel hadn’t left for the morning.
You yell back that you’re fine but scramble frantic now trying to find the damn first aid kit.
“Is that blood?” Joel snaps, sounding closer, as his boots rush against the dirt.
“No, I spilled paint.” You grumble to yourself annoyed.
“M’old but I fuckin’ heard that.” Damn.
He’s much closer now, so close his shadow falls over you but you refuse to look at him.
“What happened!?” He barks confused.
Sighing, you give up hope on finding the poor elusive first aid kit.
“Just cut my hand, that's all. It isn’t deep. I’m fine.” You reassure him.
Joel sighs angrily.
“Come on.”
Now you turn and discover his soil eyes stare at you with such a steeled intensity you almost want to scurry away.
“Fixin’ this up inside.” He doesn’t even ask or let you leave. With one yank Joel Miller pulls you towards his farmhouse.
“I’m fine.” You snap back.
“What? Just wanna let it bleed ‘n get everywhere?” An edge in Joel’s voice silences you.
Any argument you wanted to hiss out immediately floats away the moment you cross the threshold into his house. Your eyes go wide. You never once thought you’d ever see the inside of Joel Miller’s place.
It’s larger than your grandpa's.
Joel deposits you into his kitchen. The lingering smell of breakfast, possibly oatmeal with its warm cinnamon notes, hangs in the air. Yet you feel like a caught feral cat that doesn’t know how to react being inside a house for the first time.
So you let your eyes wander.
Beautiful wood cupboards line the walls. A fridge is covered with various papers held up by sweet colorful cartoonish magnets you never would’ve expected from him. A worn cozy, well loved, couch peeks out from the slight view of the living room you spot being inside the kitchen.
Joel’s house seems knitted together by a rustic weathered comfort. Yet, there’s a hollowness to the house, like it’s waiting for more spirit to fill the halls. You can’t pinpoint or describe the stillness here in this place, but you sense it.
After rustling around a drawer, Joel yanks out a rather impressive medical kit. Largely bulky and intimidating, like him, it’s no surprise a handyman and farmer has such a first aid kit.
“How’d it happen?” Joel asks gruff and quiet as he rummages around the bag.
You tell him and his seasoned face scrunches up frustrated.
“Why didn’t ya call and have me go fix it?”
You thought about that. But you couldn’t handle the thought of asking him to help again, to deal with his frustrated sighs and gruff annoyance. He barely said a word to you last weekend when he went to check your sink again.
“Don’t need you to fix everything.” You tell him composed while Joel pulls out various things to wrap your wound.
“Besides, I can fix things on my own.” You add firm.
“Not all the time.” He replies.
You stay quiet and watch his hands, large and callous, gingerly dab away all the crimson from your cut.
He’s never been this close to you. You catch the faintest smell of wood and of something clean crisp, his laundry detergent maybe. It threatens to fog your senses knowing he smells this lovely.
“Y’dont ask for help and shit like this happens.”
Your face hardens at Joel’s words. You even childishly want to yank away your hand and storm off.
“Look I get it, you barely tolerate me and think I can’t do shit. I know I’m still new, but this was an accident. It happens.” Your words come out harsher than you intended, sharpened scythes that cut through the room, and Joel freezes.
“I don’t think that.” He replies clear as a spring blue sky.
You want to bark a laugh of disbelief, but instead you simply stay silent.
Joel sighs, keeping his eyes on the medic tape he readies.
“And I… tolerate you.” He sputters like he’s trying to muster the words out.
A moment passes. Then Joel sighs, ancient and heavy.
“Don’t mind me. M’just some grumpy old fuck-”
“Hey you’re not old. You’re just grumpy.” You interrupt trying to ease the mood and your heart jumps hearing him snort.
“M’old.” He clarifies. He is older, older than you, and that fact creates a strange flutter in your chest you don’t want to explore just yet.
“And…don’t want ya feelin’ like shit.” He continues with a curt softness.
You never knew his voice could sound this layered, so tough but tender.
“Just tryin’ to look out for ya like your gramps asked me too.”
There’s a strange apology shaded in his words but you manage to catch it. A rush of emotions drown you in their current.
“You were close with my grandpa.” You comment with a curious question lingering below the surface.
“Yeah,” Joel answers low now tenderly moving to wrap your hand. “His ol’ ass used to keep me in place.”
You smirk fondly. That sounds like your gramps.
“Miss seein’ him walk by this place and hearin’ him complain that he likes the sheep more than me.”
Joel’s fond and aching voice digs its hooks into your soul. You miss gramps too, so much.
“Used to fish a lot together out by the lake.” He adds.
This is the most Joel Miller has ever spoken to you and you worry the sun might fall out of the sky soon.
“I bet he out fished you.” You tease soft.
Joel snorts. “Damn right he did.”
You can almost picture it clearly, your gramps and Joel laughing together, having a friendship.
“He’d be proud of ya.” Joel mutters but his words chime clear.
Your attention flickers to Joel. He keeps his focus steady on your hand. However his words crystallize deep in your heart and you blink away tears. You ever expected Joel Miller to almost make you cry like this.
“Thanks…means a lot.” You truthfully tell him while you swallow back the heartache and love threatening to spill over.
“He’d also say you’re a fuckin’ stubborn thing for not askin’ for help.”
You snort at that.
“Well you knew the old guy, it runs in the family.” You reply.
Joel chuckles.
It’s small - like the faint flash of seeing a cardinal in the trees. But you heard it, his amusement, and it’s lovely for a man quietly layered as him.
“Alright, all fixed up.”
The wrap is tight, secure, and speaks of his many times previously doing this before.
“Thank you Joel, appreciate it.” You do.
“Can't be a handyman if I can’t fix up people sometimes.” He shrugs but there’s a deadpan charm to his words you’re slowly catching now.
“Doctor and a handyman, no wonder the town keeps you around.” So you dryly joke back.
This moment isn’t much. Yet it feels like gaining a good step in the direction of something right and solid.
Gathering your things, you decide to head out. Even though curiosity claws at you to take in a few more moments being inside Joel Miller’s home, you have seeds to buy.
“Where ya headin’’ to?” Joel asks.
“Pierre’s.” You huff. “Need more parsnips.”
He hums a noise of acknowledgment.
Back outside the mid morning sun’s warmth soaks you in its gaze. Maybe you could fish for a bit before you head to the store. After all, the weather is so nice.
“Hey.” Joel barks out and before heading back on the road, you turn to him.
He’s a sight on his porch. You think of the typical romance movies of the handsome farmer trying to woo the newcomer in town and how right now he puts them all to shame.
Hands crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders seem like mountains against the doorway, so striking and large taking up the entire focus.
“Don’t hesitate to call y’hear? Don’t fuckin’ care what it is or what it’s for, call me.” Joel’s face is hardened and serious, reflecting the unwavering tone in his voice.
Something heated crawls up your throat and makes you dizzy. You blame it on the blood loss.
“Besides, s’what neighbors are for, right?” He adds a bit awkwardly.
It hits you. He’s the closest homestead to you. You are neighbors with him.
“Alright will do, promise.” You nod and mean your words.
“Thanks again neighbor.” Those words tingle on your lips.
Joel nods and with that you head out.
You’re on such a strange high you simply float straight to the pier and fish. It’s comforting being among the crashing waves, the sea breeze, and the wonderful weather. You also think of your gramps and Joel here.
But by the time the sky starts to turn into a ripe tangerine you realize in horror you forget to buy more seeds.
You almost scream in anguish when you find Pierre’s doors locked. Accepting momentary defeat, you head home.
When you reach your porch, there against the steps a bundle of parsnip seeds and a small pack of bandaids sit waiting for you.
- ☼ -
Your hope to quietly enjoy the egg festival, your true first event here in the valley, is diminished when Mayor Lewis practically drags you into the egg hunt saying it’s a rite of passage.
His deadly polite politician smile said there was no way you could worm your way out of participating. So you simply start the hunt thinking of the strawberry seeds you can’t wait to plant once this is over.
You’re not overly competitive, but these eggs are getting harder to find. You want to finish at least with some dignity.
Besides the area around Stardrop Saloon you scan every inch like a hawk. Someone coughs, clearing their throat, and it catches your attention.
Under the shade of the building, nursing a cold drink, Joel slightly turns towards you.
Now instead of a hawk you feel like a surprised field mouse caught in his gaze.
Without saying anything Joel flickers his eyes a couple of times towards the corner of the building. Is he giving you a hint?
Heading to the spot his eyes vaguely guided you to, you discover a colorful egg.
You almost want to keep it as proof this happened. Joel helped you.
By the time the egg hunt ends everyone already seems to be packing up and the mysterious Mr. Miller has vanished from the commotion.
Abigail wins the egg hunt and you aren’t even upset. In fact you walk home feeling like a champion.
The next morning on the help wanted and errands bulletin board in town you spot Joel’s name. Below it is a request asking for a small pack of wood.
You readily answer it and drop off the bundle eagerly, a way to help pay him back for everything.
The pretty decent payment he gives you is nice but the crooked soft hint of a grin on his face when you arrive to deliver the request is worth iridium.
A few days after that he mails you a recipe. The letter is so simply Joel - a straightforward recipe then a scribbled JM below it. You hang the letter up proudly on your fridge.
Spring blooms more and more before your eyes.
You decide to take advantage of it by foraging for the day.
“Where y’heading?”
You’ve been taking the long way to the forest these past few weeks in hopes of seeing him again. Now that you’re not actively avoiding him, you discover, small town or not, Joel is a surprisingly busy man.
When you catch glimpses of him, instead of glares being thrown your way, Joel Miller simply nods acknowledging you. Comforting as it is to know he doesn’t outright detest, you don’t like how much you hope to run into him more.
Now he’s here sliding on his backpack while moving to lock his gate.
“Just heading to the forest, gonna forage and walk around for the day.” You answer him.
“Works out, hafta head that way myself.” Joel explains falling into step besides you.
Alone with Joel Miller once again.
The small talk comes - asking each other how your days have been, anything new or interesting happening. The heat is starting to pick up announcing summer’s close arrival. Thankfully it’s still not unbearably hot as you and him fully enter the woods.
Cindersap forest is tranquil. A beautiful glimmering evergreen haven you enjoy simply strolling through. You never thought you’d ever be here with Joel.
“No new crops coming in?”
“Nothing exciting.” You shrug. “I’m more upset that I didn't plant any tulips this season.”
“Those your favorite?” Joel asks, surprisingly curious.
“Not mine, my gramps.” Your memories of the farm might be hazy, but you always remembered fresh tulips in the kitchen.
“They’re for the fairies.” Gramps would tell you with a wink.
You were bummed after realizing Pierre had flower seeds and it was too late to see them bloom in your kitchen.
“Damn,” Joel sighs. “Ain't your fault. Pierre’s an ass and hides all the good shit, flower seeds included.”
You’re almost positive Pierre doesn’t do that, but you burst out laughing.
A giddy twinkling glee consumes you and fills you buoyant. He’s trying to comfort you in his own Joel way. And it’s dangerous how fast you’re growing to enjoy the company of this grumpy cactus of a man.
You move to snag a few dandelions and wild horseradishes. You make a face at one that smells a bit ripe and decide to leave it for the forest.
“You can eat those y’know.” Joel comments.
“Yeah so I’ve heard.” You tried your first ever daffodil this month. “A wild horseradish might be a bit too much right now though, but who knows. Maybe one day I’ll try ‘em.”
“My kid used to eat these all the damn time. Never took a likin’ to ‘em myself.” Joel grumbles kicking the disposed horseradish.
Kid.
“You have a kid?” You ask curiously.
Joel blinks to you and there’s a gleam in his earth eyes of something reserved slowly revealing itself.
“Uh… yeah. A daughter. Ellie.”
A daughter. He’s a dad.
It fits him in a way that you never would have expected.
“She doesn’t live here?” You ask but then quickly apologize for pressing the subject. Joel waves you off, casual and unbothered.
“She did, just graduated highschool this year. Wanted to do the whole college deal. She lives out west now.”
So he’s an empty nester.
Delicately, wanting to know more about him and his daughter, you ask about her.
Joel inhales deep then exhales slowly, as if an immovable weight on his shoulders rattles deep to his bones.
“She’s a headache, my Ellie.” Fondness trickles out of Joel a steady stream.
“Stubborn, damn near impossible to argue with cause she’s so fuckin’ smart. Got a good heart. Good head on her shoulders too, wants to be an astronaut.”
“An astronaut?! That’s incredible!” You exclaim in brilliant excitement.
Like the proud dad he is, adoration tugs at Joel’s lips.
“Yeah, been wantin’ to be one for years. That’s why she’s going to school.”
“She sounds incredible, Joel. You must be proud.” You earnestly tell him.
“I am…” His voice is thick, and you don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over distant and misty.
You decide not to press the subject any further. He instead does it for you.
“She loved livin’ here until the damn flower festival rolled around. Then she’d swear up ‘n down about how much she hated this town and was gonna leave the second she could.”
The flower festival is just days away. The town swirls in a controlled chaos for its arrival.
You laugh warm. “I’m guessing she’s not a fan of dancing.”
“Takes after me.” Joel nods.
“Ahh…so guess that means you’re not asking anyone to dance this year.” You comment lightly and Joel snorts.
“Ain’t danced with anyone in a very long time.”
A wistful ace now twists your heart thinking of Joel alone in his home, alone watching the others in town pair off.
“You gonna ask anyone?” Joel turns the question around to you and you almost choke on an inhale.
Not wanting to get flustered or react wildly you focus on the wild springs among the lush forest.
“Uh no. Don’t think anyone wants to dance with the newbie in town. Which is fine.” You answer.
There are lovely and gorgeous people in town. Some have caught your eye. However, you didn’t feel brave or interested enough to ask anyone to dance. And no one seemed intended to ask for your hand in the dance, and you find you’re not too upset about that.
Joel hums low, a sign you’re catching on means he’s listening without having to reply much.
“Hopin’ someone will ask ya to dance?” That question takes you by surprise.
You shrug not wanting to fully answer the question either.
Someone suddenly calls out to Joel from behind. At the edge of the forest leading back into town stands Maria, the town’s legal counsel and assistant mayor.
“Caught playing hooky, busted.” You snicker and Joel scoffs.
Maria yells out Joel’s name again.
“Can you come back to town and help us with something? Thought you’d be at home seeing how it’s your day off today. I’ve been trying to call ya but nothing went through.” She yells.
The service here in the forest was awful compared to the town, a hard lesson you’ve learned quickly.
But you also don’t miss Maria’s comment.
Joel had today off. Yet he decided to stay a bit with you. That thought has teeth and you can’t stop their bite from sinking into your heart.
Joel groans but doesn't hesitate to head towards where the assistant mayor stands. Maria of course spots you and a wonderful grin lights up lovely her face.
“It’s good to see you.” She calls out.
“You too!” You reply back thankful your voice is level.
Joel glances over his shoulder to catch your eye.
“Good luck foragin’. Don’t eat any weird shit.”
You sputter out a squawk at his casual comment.
“Next time I see you, I’m giving you a wild horseradish!” You playfully snap the ridiculous reply before you can even stop yourself, but Joel thankfully rolls his eyes unbothered.
Maria’s eyes however flicker curiously between you and Joel. Too many emotions heat up your skin now. So bidding Joel and Maria a quick goodbye you stomp back into the forest to continue foraging.
Now along in the woods, your thoughts still think of Joel. The bag of parsnip seeds, the bandages, and the recipe, come to mind. You never once discussed any of it with him or him with you. It’s something you keep locked in your heart, just like today will be.
Soon the day melts into early twilight. You snag a couple of dandelions and a few other forageables before deciding to head home.
Joel’s farm house looms quietly still with no lights. You can’t bring yourself to open the gate to his farm and walk up to the house.
So instead you place a few dandelions along with a nice fresh large wild horseradish on top of the mailbox by his gate then head home.
Even when you unwind for the night, you mind still feels like it’s snagged on Joel Miller, still there with him foraging in the forest.
- ☼ -
The flower dance, as strange of a custom as it is, is rather ethereal. So many vivid floral arrangements decorate the space with dynamic colors and the air even smells fresh.
The flower dance honors the legacy of celebrating the final days of spring. But it also is a celebration of love blooming.
“It has roots dating back to fertility rituals.” Demetrius, ever the town scientist, told you while you were chatting with him and his wife.
He was right of course. The flower dance is the opportunity for someone to extend a hand of romantic feelings towards another. Those who hope to participate in the couples dance, or possibly win the crown of Flower Queen, are dressed in glorious attire. Soft light fabrics and flowers woven into crowns create a scene conjured out of a fairy’s kingdom.
Compared to the others in lovely attire with flowers in their hair, you didn’t even dress up or change out of your messy dirt covered jeans. And the only flowers in your hair are actually twigs and leaves from cleaning up more of your property.
With no need to worry about someone asking you to dance, you instead simply enjoy the various foods prepared for the occasion.
“Be careful, the salsa actually has a pretty good kick.” You’re about to go in for a second helping when a gentle accented voice floats out to you.
Besides you is a man with the kindest eyes you’ve seen. Faintly you recognize his face and can recall seeing him around town.
“Tommy Miller.” He reintroduces himself seeing your slight hesitation and your eyes go big.
“Oh, Maria’s husband!” You fully remember her introducing him to you. But now something else clicks.
He’s Joel’s brother.
“Yup.” He grins proud at his wife’s mention.
You apologize profusely for not remembering him sooner and with a kind understanding smile Tommy reassures you it’s fine.
“Been a busy first month for ya, I get it. You’re a tough cookie handlin’ it all.”
Even though his twang mirrors his brother’s, Tommy already radiates a much different energy than Joel. He’s warm in a way that reminds you of a soft summer day welcoming everyone with his vibrant energy.
You thank him earnestly. “The town’s been good to me.”
A part of you wants to add Joel has been good to you. Weeks ago, you would’ve laughed at just the idea of Joel Miller showing you an emotion other than annoyance. But now you and him seem to slowly be warming up to each other.
“Don’t go stealin’ all the good stuff, y’little shit.” Joel arrives with a gruff grumble of a voice and quickly nudges Tommy.
Yet his eyes remained glued on you.
You also seem to notice how striking Joel looks in the crisp light jean button up shirt he wears.
“Speak of the devil… was just about to ask our new farmer here if ya haven’t scared her away yet.” Tommy jokes.
Joel’s face flickers with a scowl fighting to form but he keeps himself surprisingly composed.
Guilt sinks in your gut. You know he’s hard to read and you even feel bad for thinking he’s mean. Because you’re learning fast Joel is earnest in his own way.
“Nah,” you tell Tommy, answering for yourself and Joel almost. “His sheep are actually scarier than he is.”
Tommy busts out laughing and you grin. Your eyes flicker to Joel but see he isn’t grinning. Instead Joel’s handsome aged face stares at you guarded and you can’t read the emotions shimmering in his eyes.
Shit.
You might have overstepped and upset him. So to physically stop yourself from saying anything else you take a bite out of the delicious cornbread on your plate, wave a weak goodbye to the Miller brothers, and scurry away.
Now alone under the shadow of one of the lovely cherry trees, you’re aware of how new you still are, a fresh bud still trying to foster roots in this new ground. You wonder how your gramps dealt with this every year.
Soon enough, the music starts and Mayor Lewis claps excited ready to begin the dance.
At least this will be over soon.
The couples slowly sway to the soft melody then rustling arrives at your side. Gently your eyes turn to the source and you almost collapse seeing Joel move in besides you.
His eyes though stay on the couples dancing among the blooms.
“Could’ve at least picked better music to dance to.” He mumbles bored.
Your lips press hard trying not to smile ridiculous and wide.
“Could you imagine if someone played the wrong song?” You whisper back. “Like, some heavy metal rock song suddenly started screaming out?”
Joel snorts, masks it with a few coughs, but you did it. You made him laugh.
Golden soaked triumph fills you and it feels like the first morning you woke up and found a sprout peeking up from the dark tilled soil.
He’s a complex man and you’re barely even scratching the surface of him. But it’s a tender start you want to continue kindling.
For all the commotion and production given to the festival, the dance only lasts a few moments. It’s over thankfully fast.
“Bit anticlimactic.” You mutter under your breath.
“Yeah it’s dumb.” Joel deadpans.
Your lips fight from letting out a laugh.
Everyone claps joyously at the couples concluding their dance. You wonder, even as silly as this is, if one day maybe you’ll dance with flowers in your hair. But you don’t give that thought too much attention. Just imaging yourself next spring already seems so far away.
“Headin’ home?” Joel asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You hum, narrowing your eyes at the gorgeous meadow.
“I’m kind of tempted to maybe see if I can steal some of the leftovers but yeah, I’m heading back.” You reply.
“Tell me which food you’re eyein’ and I’ll grab it. No one will tell me no.” He offers and you laugh.
“Tempting as that is, I’m just gonna go home.” You wish Joel a warm good night.
He continues walking alongside you.
Your heart jumps until you realize he lives in the same direction. The chatter from the festival still lingers in the air even while you walk further away from the meadow.
“How do you deal with that every year?” You ask with a sigh.
“Alcohol.” Joel dully answers and you snicker at his reply.
“Maybe one day you’ll be dancin’ out there.” Joel comments like he’s trying to continue the small talk. But the suggestion makes you skin itch for a reason you can’t pinpoint.
You only reply with a simple ‘maybe’ and a shrug.
“I’d pay a hundred bucks to see you dance though.” You joke, but also quickly imagine Joel a picture of softness with a flower behind his ear resting beautifully among his silver curls and it makes your knees weak.
Joel however rolls his eyes.
“Next year we’ll just sneak in and take over the music. See what happens.” You offer.
“Now that sounds like a plan.” Joel agrees gruffly.
It sounds like a promise.
You bid him good night until his eyebrows crinkle so classily grumpy Joel.
“Whadya doin’? Ain’t lettin’ ya walk home alone, sprout. Now come on.”
He continues walking as if nothing while your mind tries to recover being tilted on its axis for a bit.
Joel is walking you home.
And he called you sprout.
You want to cradle this new nickname so tenderly in your hands.
Joel quietly asks about your plans for the upcoming season, almost as if he’s trying to keep you focused.
To settle your flutter heart, you manage to ramble about the new incoming seeds you’ve heard about. You talk about your hopes of going to the beach more, not just to fish but to simply enjoy the ocean.
Among all that discussion, in a blink you’re back at your farm.
Instead of Joel rushing home, he lingers.
He checks your porch almost like he’s making sure the thing still stands.
“Hope one day to see that dang greenhouse up ‘n runnin.” He points to the broken greenhouse and you can’t help but sigh at the sight. You hope so too.
Then Joel moves to stand next to you on the land.
It feels different seeing him here.
Just a few weeks ago he was shouting every profanity known to man trying to fix your ancient water heater. He also glared at you the entire time.
Now he stands next to you suggesting on what to grow for the upcoming season.
“You could plant the tomatoes over on this side, give ‘em more shade to grow.”
Joel already reminds you of a back alley cat, one that hisses and refuses to let others near until he decides when to warm up to others. And, like a fresh new sprout, you want to soak up this warmth of him up.
“Also… Don’t forget to plant flowers.” He adds with a soft grumble.
“I won’t.” You grin impressed he remembered.
When you bid him goodnight and thank him again, you almost want to promise you’ll stop by with coffee tomorrow morning.
However that feels too much, like you might make the wrong move and spook him. But you do want to know if he makes it home okay. You can’t even bring yourself to ask him for his phone number.
So you watch Joel leave until your thoughts move fast and you blurt them out.
“Wait how will I know you made it back?”
Joel suddenly stops then glances back to you.
A very soft twinkle comes over his face and he gives you a crooked grin. It colors him with such a boyish expression. This new face of Joel feels sacred, special, and it steals your breath away.
“Hang outside for a bit. I’ll give ya sign, don’t worry.” He nods then melts into the darkness.
You stay frozen on the spot, not wanting to miss whatever it is. You wait, hoping he makes it back safe. Then out from the darkness, far down the path, you see it.
A light from Joel’s house blazes alive.
Then it flickers on and off, like someone flipping the switch a few times. The movement of it against the darkness even feels like a wave of some sorts.
You wish so badly to wave back.
Reassured that he’s home, you head back feeling as light as a feather.
Stepping onto your porch, something catches your eye.
Resting on the main railing barrier are a batch of tulips that were not there when you left.
Your heart jumps into your throat. You didn’t even see Joel place them there.
Delicately placed, the tulips so brilliantly colored sit warm and bright for you - the most beautiful end to your spring.
Though, in your heart, these blooms feel like something closer to a beginning.
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kshvr · 2 years
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I really like how obey me made their mc. They're not your typical otome mc that is automatically a girl. They made their mc gender neutral so everyone could be them. Also, i like mc's personality, they're not the basic type of otome mc that is always naive, innocent and fragile. Obey me mc is literally dealing with demons, angels and immortal creatures yet they can still handle themselves, belphie literally killed them but they came back to life like nothing happened, they got chased by cerberus but still managed to survive, they got into a lot of trouble and yet they're still alive. Basically, obey me mc is an immortal girlboss/manboss no wonder the obey me brothers, angels and immortal creatures there are so down bad for them.
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ice-cream-nekogirl · 8 months
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How MC has adjusted to the Devildom XD
Based on this video: I SORT OF LOOK FORWARD TO IT NOW - YouTube
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apompkwrites · 8 months
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disappearance of an asim || kalim al-asim
masterlist characters: kalim (platonic) genre: angst contains: help there's more names oh god, kidnapping summary: the asim siblings go down from 32 to 31 children in the span of a single night. notes: lol posting this before I sleep and go to college again tomorrow anyway you get to meet more siblings :)) parts: [og post] | [previous] | [next]
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faraj was used to waking up to a bundle of siblings gathering in his room. in fact, he would find it odd if none of them were there in his waking moments.
he never minded it. it was a welcome surprise that greeted him every morning. he played an internal guessing game of "which of my siblings are here" before he opened his eyes.
he usually won this game, too. he had a good balance of gut instinct and reading slight clues in the room that he knew right away which sibling had decided to wake him up that day.
light fluttering of book pages being turned? that's rawiya, most likely there to collect new ideas for stories she wanted to write.
heavy footsteps that sounded like constant marching? probably junayd who had just come home from training.
and, this morning, faraj heard soft pattering on the floor, one more sluggish than the other. he knew immediately that it was the pair of sleepy twins qamar and hala.
"faraj...!" qamar yawned. but, despite his sleepy tone, there was a hint of panic laced in it. faraj opened his eyes slowly, letting out a yawn himself, before sitting up in bed.
"good morning, you two," he hummed softly, trying his best to fix his bedhead.
"faraj...!" qamar whined, sleep still lacing his tone. he sniffled and scrambled onto faraj's bed, tugging on his pajama sleeve.
"what's wrong, qamar?" faraj yawned again, rubbing the boy's shoulder gently. as he stared down at his sniffling siblings, he felt something tighten in his chest.
"w-we went to find (n-name)," he cried, his words catching in his throat with every sob, "b-but we couldn't f-find them!"
"deep breaths, qamar," faraj cooed, rubbing his shoulder. he turned to look at hala, who had crawled up onto his bed and curled up into his other side. "did you check their room? maybe they went to bed early."
"we checked," hala huffed, burying her face in faraj's side. "they weren't there."
"huh..." faraj muttered. "well, breakfast is in an hour or so. I'm sure you'll see them then."
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that was what he thought, of course. but, when he and the rest of his siblings gathered at the table, the guards standing outside of the hall, he noticed one chair was left empty.
in between lulu and qamar was (name)'s empty chair.
faraj had to pause for a moment. that was strange... without fail, (name) had always made it to breakfast. he scanned the table before his eyes landed on menna, who was the one to wake up any remaining siblings in their rooms.
"menna," he called out as everyone nestled into their seats. "did you see (name) in their room this morning?"
"i was just gonna bring that up," she responded. "I was gonna ask if the twins saw them last night."
"that's the thing," faraj muttered worriedly. "they didn't."
the table fell into silence for a single moment. it was unnerving. it was quite rare for the room to be completely silent. the only times it ever happened were if kalim, nawra, or rawda were absent from the table due to a threat.
"...what did you say?" menna asked, her voice straight and emotionless.
"they didn't see them," faraj repeated. "they woke me up this morning saying they couldn't find them..."
"are you trying to say (name)'s missing?!" kalim gasped, slamming his hands on the table. the other siblings jumped at the sudden rattle, prompting kalim to utter an apology under his breath before he continued to panic. "they couldn't, right?! they must have fallen asleep somewhere else, right?!"
"kalim, settle down," faraj responded in a stern tone. "panicking won't help us."
"we'll go look around for them," menna offers, standing up. she points to herself before listing off the other siblings. "raabi'a, mahdi, faraj. samad, come with me. kalim, safaa', tasnim, watch the others."
the siblings all fell into their duties relatively quickly, except kalim who was insisting on going out to find (name) as well.
but, the five ignored his pleas, hurrying out of the dining hall. outside, they were met with a handful of their servants, all of whom stared back at them with surprised expressions.
"is something wrong?" jamil, as expected, was the first to speak up. he stepped forward, a bit tense when he noticed kalim was still in the dining hall.
"we're just searching for one of our siblings," safaa' huffed. "no need to get involved."
"...yes, of course," jamil bowed his head and stepped back. faraj and mahdi could only offer apologetic looks as they hurried off into the hall.
the five split up, covering each part of their home. and, when they gathered again, they all came up empty handed.
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kalim, upon the arrival of his five siblings and not six, was quick to rush out of the dining hall. he hurried down the hall, past jamil, past the guards, past the advisors that wandered the home, and straight to where his father was.
"dad! dad!" he called out as he burst through the door, ignoring the surprised looks of his parents. "(name)'s gone missing!"
his father paused for a moment. a single moment. his eyes were wide as kalim's words were processed in his mind.
"kalim's gone missing!"
"nawra's gone missing!"
"rawda's gone missing!"
his father was so used to hearing these sentences, but...
(name)...? why them? why, why, why?
he couldn't think. and as his wife placed her hand on his, squeezing it tight, the first words tumbled out of his mouth.
"find out where they've gone," he ordered to the guards, who all took the command and hurried off out of the room.
kalim and his father stared at each other for a moment longer. neither of them knew why this fate had fallen them again, especially with one of the siblings that were supposed to be at the least risk of being in trouble...
kalim nor his father wanted to think about it any longer. but they knew they had to.
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the room is dark. quiet. eerie. you hated it. your mind was so fuzzy and faint that you could barely understand whether the room was truly empty or if it was just the unconsciousness enveloping your brain.
you tried to move. but you couldn't. you were latched onto something. it wasn't rope or cloth because it wasn't soft, no, it was cold. and stiff.
you tried again. you still couldn't move.
you heard something creak across from you. footfalls. heavy, heavy footfalls.
"well, well, well, look who's awake."
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