#your floral details always bow my mind! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evilzoldyck · 4 years

Text

Fiancée II

part I

The floral scent hanging in the humid air had become particularly nauseating, the mixed flower petals that complemented the oils poured into the bathwater had all sank before you while the water itself had turned lukewarm.

Looking down at your fingers, you noticed that your fingertips had pruned horrendously. Normally you wouldn’t take much of your time disengaging with reality but recently, there was something in your mind you couldn’t quite comprehend. Just a few hours ago you were subjected to your mother-in-law’s favourite pastime which was holding a tea ceremony by the garden. Except it had a special twist, for every crucial detail that you missed, a melting hot iron would be pressed against the palm of your hands.

You didn’t miss the slight turn on the corner of her lips, her hidden smile behind the paper fan every time the torched metal would melt onto your skin, reminding you that will never be worthy enough to be accepted by her. And for every time your skin healed, your scars disappeared, your blood stopped seeping from your skin, she will be the one to make sure to replace them. Asserting her position and making sure you knew who the true matriarch of the family is.

Living with in-laws was a truly dreadful ordeal.

However when a butler with hard lines etched onto his face interrupted the unfortunate event, his sunken eyes that held the deepest sympathies only gazed at yours. He came forward with an ill-bearing news of your mother’s recent passing.

You knew this day would come, but you hadn’t anticipated it to come so soon. Though you had the resources to finance her health with the best doctor money can buy, you knew there was nothing you could offer death for an ailment so monstrous. The more times that you visited her in the hospital, the more and more different she looked.

You almost didn’t recognise her. She looked like a corpse, barely breathing through her tube encasing her mouth, her hair you used to comb religiously every night was mostly gone. You knew that she was barely alive.

The only times that you were allowed to visit her was once every full moon as the rest of your days were filled with torturous training all for the sake of building your strength. You were barely considered family to them and so your own Mother visiting you at the Zoldyck estate was unimaginable. Sometimes in the darkest hour of the night you could almost hear her hoarse whispers, blindly pleading repeatedly to the nurses for you, why her daughter was nowhere to be found.

She fought for your next visit, begging at death’s door to see you one last time but alas, death was cruelly fair and her time was rightfully due. And so the feeling when you completely missed her burial, when you were refused a visit to her grave to pay your respects, when you were forbidden to grieve for it was a sign of weakness. The feeling of such accumulated events…

What was it you were supposed to feel?

You knew your heart nor mind could never be so numb, you weren’t anything like the Zoldycks at all, so detached to even a sliver of morality and compassion. So then why didn’t the news of her death send you to your knees? Why couldn’t you feel anything? Could it be a temporary shock- perhaps that’s why your cheeks were dry.

Just when you were lost in your thoughts with a tight frown pursed upon your lips, your personal handmaiden politely intruded herself inside the bathroom, announcing the arrival of master Illumi from his recent mission abroad. You lifted your head from your trance as her soft voice ricocheted off the black marbled walls, a gentle reminder to you of exactly where you were before your mind took you someplace else.

Upon seeing her, she was diligently prepped with her arms open wide, holding your robe before you.

The strange family had rightfully encroached all rights that you previously held, your freedom, your dignity, pride, and even your last name; privacy was the least of your concern. Rising from the cold waters, you allowed her to tie the warm fabric around you. She was always so meticulous and gentle, as if the slightest movement of her gestures or the flicker of her gaze could potentially be taken as an affront.

There were ample times that you searched for at least some kind of warmth in this forlorn and dreary estate, some kind of companion to show a little humanity and compassion with. You should’ve known that pursuing friendship on this mountain was pointless. The myriad of maids and butlers that they have at their disposable offered no comfort to your despair as they were always sickeningly polite but never friendly, leaving a gaping hole in your chest to fend this loneliness for yourself.

At the threshold of the gargantuan door, Illumi stood impassively while one of the butlers of the estate came to lighten his load. He had come back rather early from his departure, the extensive tasks assigned to him was nothing he hadn’t done before and yet with so many undertakings he was obligated to finish he had forgone rest when it was deemed necessary, opting to continue on to the next job effective immediately. Perhaps it was his habit of having a tireless and dedicated focus during a mission or maybe it was just his overzealousness to see you again.

“Welcome back, master Illumi. I trust that you found our services to be adequate on your journey back.” Gotoh pleasantly bade a congenial welcome as he gracefully placed his right hand across his chest and bowed his head slightly before the eldest of Zoldyck’s son.

He simply hummed in reply not sparing another glance at the man for Illumi’s vacant stare was occupied, searching the premises based on his peripheral vision for any sign of you awaiting him without fail like you do every time he arrived back from his assignments. “And my wife?” he curtly inquired after seeing no sign of you.

Descending from the stairs, you face your personal demon with a pathetic palpitating heart. The robe that you adorned did little to cover the coldness of his gaze for the room froze every time he was near. Nevertheless a stretch of a satisfying smile formed across his lips as you made your way towards his arms.

Embracing him always felt like the first time, your shoulders tensed every time his elongated thin fingers squeezed your sides as he enveloped you in a mockingly sweet embrace. If it bothered him, Illumi never spoke of it. The locks of his midnight hair brushed against your face as you placed a quivering kiss upon his cheek, uttering a small greeting for him.

Just like clockwork he began to led you away from the foyer and into your shared quarters with his lithe hand burrowing itself into your waist.

Though it felt like years had passed once your fate was intertwined with his, you could never get used to his presence. This saccharine coated reality could never delude you to construe this as something more meaningful than a means of escape from your financial poverty and his obligation on fulfilling his filial piety. The carefully rehearsed charade always played out the same where in the end of the night you would find yourself in a familiar predicament.

Inside the cimmerian chamber dim flickering candle lights illuminated the tenebrous darkness around you. The satin beneath your naked skin easily shifted as Illumi handled you attentively from above. As he moved to discard of his clothes your eyes absentmindedly wandered to the same spot on the ceiling that you’ve gazed upon countless of times. However once you heard the gentle rustle of his garments join yours into the floor, your attempt to seperate your mind from your body ended in vain.

Illumi hovered above you leaving a scant space between your lips. You wished you knew why he searched for your eyes every time he began to kiss you, taking a pensive moment for you to finally look at him, to be the centre of your attention. You didn’t know why he bothered taking his time with you for every night you spent with him you had only demonstrated compliance and obedience. Prolonging such affair was only counterproductive.

You felt him dragging his nails softly into your skin as he brought his hands up slowly from your thighs to your neck, grasping the rhythmically beating point and finally placing a soft kiss.

Closing your eyes you unconsciously balled the sheets beneath you with your fists. The kiss was timid and placid on your lips as his hair fell and entangle with the pool of your own. Illumi finally released after a few languishing moments and began to trace wistful kisses along your neck.

You knew better as to why an apathetic assassin that left a trail of crimson behind him for equity would give you the time of day to leave obsequious pecks.

Illumi was a man of pure objectivity, each action he took had an ulterior motive behind it for no lift of his finger went by without it having some kind of incentive for him in the end. And so his adoring kisses and unctuous attention did little to move your amoral perception of him.

He only indulged in such idle debauchary for he believed it was what you enjoyed, hence allowing the intercourse to go smoothly and successfully with the benefit of your arousal. Illumi was especially persistent in his countless endeavours in carrying out his bloodline with you. The details surrounding the child were kept quite vague and undisclosed, the only emphasis now was centred around the health and condition of your mental and physical state.

Perhaps that’s why Illumi always handled you selflessly, as if he missed you terribly every time he went away for his delegated tasks. His efforts to please you easily began to grow more apparent, especially under an auspicious moon.

Suddenly his hand encapsulated your small shivering ones, making your breath hitch just slightly as he rose up to meet you once more. “You’re still shaking, what’s the matter?”

Were you? You hadn’t noticed the state of your body for your mind was running wild with endless thoughts. Sensing the tension in the air you quickly placated his growing trepidation with a weak smile. “Forgive me, tonight is just particularly cold today, perhaps I’ve left the window open again.” Avoiding his ruminating gaze Illumi released a ghost of a sigh before nodding, indicating that he took your word for it despite you knowing deep down that he did not.

“Shall we go by the fireplace?” He suggested innocuously.

You, however, couldn’t prevent the heat from rising up to your face as you couldn’t even begin to fathom engaging in such activity beside a roaring fire. Not only that but you would be rid of the protective barrier of your sheets and most of all, the wavering waves of red would cast a glow onto his face, forcing you to glance up upon him and seeing more of what you’re already comfortable with.

A prude is the word most women back in your town would describe you as, however you would staunchly argue to such claims when the eyes of death has its attention solely on you.

“No,” you gripped onto his hands. “Here is just fine.”

Illumi gathered you into his arms, pulling you upwards along with him as he pressed more kisses against your lips and slowly trailed them down to your chest. You hesitantly wrapped your hands around his shoulders, careful not to tip the centre of balance he had on you as you nearly straddled his lap.

“Very well,” he murmured before flipping you back on the bed and making you land onto your front swiftly. “Then I shall hold you instead.”

Encapsulating you wholly with your back pressed against his chest, he held onto your chest tightly against him with one arm as the other gripped your hips firmly, raising it up to meet his. His head burrowed itself into the crook of your neck to leave more discoloured marks, and just in time as you felt the stretch commence.

You were nowa Zoldyck, as you often reminded yourself, nothing could contain you not even pain, not even death, not even love.

Roughly a year had passed and the same moonlight shined through the darkness upon the mountain peak once again. The Zoldyck estate was in turmoil. Nurses ran frantically from across the halls carrying fresh pristine white towels only to have them drenched in blood in the next second.

You knew what you signed up for the moment you stood before theTesting Gate, it was just simply your time to fulfil your end of the bargain.

The journey of your pregnancy was a stark contrast to the treatment you had been subjected to in your time here. Instead of poison laced meals to the verge of hospitalisation and endless hours of enhancing your strength endurance, you were finally given some form of a break.

Those little mercies such as extra hours of sleep, the vitamins and protein back in your system and the permission to acquire rest when you needed it were like heaven to you.

Your health along with your baby’s progress was greatly monitored, not a day goes by that your daily intensive checkup went by carelessly.

Everyday you gazed down in front of the mirror and saw yourself grow progressively. The size of your belly began to expand with each passing time that came closer to the due date. Though despite the baby being attached to your very self you couldn’t feel a sense of attachment to it, the very kind your mother had for you.

And so when you first heard him cry from your extraneous labour, you were stricken by a sudden powerful force. Months of him stirring inside you and it took you this long to realise the being inside you was alive.

The obstetrician and the nurses all cheered and cooed at the successful delivery of your newborn baby, making excessive notes of how handsome he was. Their faces damped with their efforts to ensure the health of the mother and the baby was maintained paid off for the delivery was a success.

The burden finally left their shoulders as one should feel when it was a Zoldyck’s turn to employ and entrust an imperative job such as this.

Once the umbilical cord was cut, you were able look upon his face. Blood stained your hands and cheek as you held him close to your chest, his tiny hand already reaching out for your face, finally tempering his cries into charming babbling nonsense when he sensed that you were near. Everything about him reminded you of Illumi, his midnight hair that was twisted in tiny wisps, his complexion, his small but sharp features upon his face.

But those eyes, they were yours.

The warmth of such gaze possessed you to crumble down before your son for it wasn’t until his arrival that your humanity was finally restored. Emotions flooded your senses to the point that you thought you couldn’t feel anything else but harrowing pain and guilt. Your separation from your only family, society, your own mother’s death, the excruciating pain that was inflicted upon you- you’ve felt it all.

The mental fortitudes that you’ve built up over the accumulating years all came crashing down when you looked upon a face so innocent and pure. Something that was truly incapable of harnessing any bloodshed as per the family designed of his future.

And after all this time you were carrying him like a pig to slaughter. Partaking in this corrupt pseudo-experiment to create the cold and hard perfect monster, subservient to the wills and orders of the family.

Just like his father.

Suddenly, one of the nurses took him away from your embrace consequently making you panic at the thought of your son being alone without you. The feeling that compelled you to care for another was one that felt so familiar and yet so foreign, plucking an untouched chord in your heartstring that you’ve forgotten a long time ago.

All your life you were living for someone else; when you lost your mother you were at a loss for your purpose was amiss, living as an empty hollow shell of a human being. Now that the birth of your child had come, an epiphany struck you like a blinding flash of lightening.

He was your new profound purpose.

“Where are you taking him?” You gasped out, already reaching out towards the nurse who held him around a blanket. She briefly replied that she would be taking his measurements but her words of comfort fell on deaf ears for it did nothing to placate the fact that you were separated from your baby.

“No, no- please! Give him back to me!” Now you were crawling across the maroon soaked sheets, wincing at the fact that you were still bleeding but still keeping a staunch arm out in front of you.

Your frantic actions forced the nurses nearby to restrain you, holding you back onto the bed while urging advices to calm down. However their grip upon you nearly fell for you could see nothing but red in your eyes, there was no amount of force in this world that could withhold you from being without him. Your beseeches and tenacious struggle quickly came to a halt when you felt a sudden jolt of pain from your side.

Looking down with your tear stricken face you saw that you were haphazardly injected with a strange transparent liquid to sedate you. Usually you could easily persevere over simple liquid anaesthetics that could even wipe out an entire five adult men but this dose was a new thing entirely, you’ve never been exposed to such a heavy medication that edged on it being lethal before.

However you knew that the fate of your son would be compromised if you stayed, if you didn’t fought for him.

Consequently, the only necessary action you needed to take was to escape. Gathering your bearings from the Jenny that you’ve rightfully championed two summers ago, you’ve decided that the amount would guarantee him and you a stable future.

That is why after two moons have passed when you’ve conjured enough strength to gather yourself from your deep sleep, right before Illumi was scheduled to come back to witness the scion of the house of Zoldyck, that you would take off when the moon was at its peak.

There was no leaving it up to chance for there was no telling when you would see you son again. There was much conviction in your assumption that Illumi would haste his training program to become an elite assassin, just as the family intended from the start.

The Zoldycks were unrivalled in their system of securing their property. A fortress that the brave or the foolish dared to try to penetrate, though their attempts would always end up in vain; along with bruises and a few broken bones if they were smart enough to retreat soon. However, they weren’t quite as adept at keeping someone in than they were at keeping everyone out.

Glancing back the faint sight of the distant mountain on the horizon, you slowed your pace as you decided you’ve made satisfactory progress in distance. Looking around perilously and tuning your ears to the sound of even the faintest landing of the leaves in the autumn breeze, you relievedly deduced that you weren’t followed- well at least not yet.

Releasing small huffs from your over exertion of energy, you gazed down fondly at the sight of your son bundled up in a large cloth in which you tied tightly onto your back. You relievedly let out a soft smile when you found out he was still sleeping soundly, gripping onto some of your loose hairs unconsciously. Setting him down inside a hollow tree you figured you could take a few minutes to decipher where True North lied.

However, a sudden change in the atmosphere made your blood freeze. Staring out into the darkness, you fixed your sights in the direction of the energy with your fists clenched in anticipation.

You felt him before you even saw him. Your heart dropped when you sensed whose aura emitted belonged to.

Illumi came out of darkness with an air of calmness surrounding him. This sense of composure completely shifted yours, you knew he could easily overpower you for his nen abilities reigned supreme over yours, nonetheless you couldn’t allow a fight for freedom to go unchallenged, not when you were so close to the finish line.

His ambiguity costed you valuable time to quickly devise a plan. Should you fight or should you flee? There was no telling he would kill you and steal your son away if you opposed him and yet given his nature, Illumi was quite capable of putting up a façade to front his murderous intent.

When he came too close for comfort, you realised you could never outrun him with this distance, thus you had to strike before he could. Unsheathing a small dagger that you carried just in case you ran into some trouble, you cursed at yourself for carrying a short range weapon.

Nevertheless you missed his shoulder by just the width of a hair. Illumi’s speed, though something to be marvelled at, was the only aspect that you worried most about.

As if in slow motion you fell forwards and from the corner of your eyes, you saw him shift easily from your reach. Illumi began to extend his arm out to impede your efforts, however you caught sight of his advances and immediate retreated back.

He blinked in mild surprise before exhaling a jaded sigh. “Fighting me is futile, you know very well that you cannot defy me in battle.” He stated matter-of-factly. “This victory brings me no satisfaction.”

“Bring the child forth and end this foolishness now.”

“You monster,” you spat out the words like venom. “You’ll kill him.”

Lashing out in anger you attempted another strike but narrowly missed again. Gritting your teeth in frustration you were so blinded by hatred that you failed to notice his hand reaching from your blind spot to restrain your dagger.

Wrapping his long lithe fingers around your wrist Illumi gave a warning squeeze, enough to make a grown man fall to his knees. When you refused to yield, he gripped it into a blood cutting bind until you heard your bones shift and crack. You gasped out once your hold slackened as the dagger fell into the soft green grass below.

“No, I’ll make him stronger.” Illumi confidently promised. He just broke your wrist but oddly still, you couldn’t sense any intention of harm from him as you presumed.

Your body went rigid when he uttered your name softly, pulling your weight into him almost comfortingly. “We’re still a family,” he spoke so lowly you thought you heard a sense of betrayal and hurt from his words. “I know it’s hard, but we only have each other.”

This imitation of kindness pulled you back into reality before you could cry into his chest and take you back to the mountain. Jerking from his touch disgustedly you began to prepare to lunge at him despite your broken hand.

“You know very well that I will pursue you even to the ends of the earth.”

You lurch out in a punch at his direction but Illumi hastily blocked your attacks. Dodging your strikes he only ever defends, hardly even trying to challenge you. An approach that was more pacifist as opposed to practical.

“I’ll stop at nothing to bring you both home, there is nothing you can protect him from. The boy will watch many deaths before him. He will know the true meaning of threats and violence, they will fall under mine. He will never know peace.”

You almost cried when you heard him spoke of your son’s future in a manner that was so casually cruel. Forcing yourself to block his torturous lies and vitriolic taunts, you eyed for your weapon inconspicuously.

Catching a glint from the blade of the dagger in the tall grass, you reached out to briskly seize it. Before you could even get close, Illumi kicked it swiftly to the point where it was no longer visible to you. Looking up at him with a gaze gaunt with pain and humiliation as he said your name once more.

“Listen to reason.”

In a fit of rage you blindly fought him with your moves only consisting of attacks and albeit not very coordinated for you could barely even see your hands in front of you. You could sense that Illumi willingly took some of your punches as he winced a little when one of your attacks coincidentally targeted his weak points.

You hadn’t realised you were crying until he balanced you upright just as when you stumbled forwards due to your eyes stinging with blurry vision. Why had you expressed yourself at your weakest point in the midst of a fight? Were you really this weak? After such gruelling years of training did they amount to nothing when you couldn’t even compare to the man you willed yourself away to?

You already lost before you even began.

Locking a grip around his neck you managed to successfully pinned him to the ground floor. His eyes blankly looked up at your dishevelled state raw with pure emotions in contrast to his cool and composed self. It took you this long to register that he wasn’t fighting for your submission but for your sake.

Illumi easily reverted to being the dominant position when he was about to receive a lethal strike from you. Pining both of your hands to the ground as he restrained your legs with his knees.

Illumi studied your trembling form underneath him, appearing like a feral cat caught in a cage, ready to lash out from any sudden actions even one out of kindness.

“What can I do to get you to stay?” He persuaded exasperatedly, as if he was tired of you looking at him like he’s the enemy. Meanwhile, you glared at the ludicrous question.

“I want a normal life for him. I want him to see the world, I want him to go to school, to make friends.” Your throat tightened when you brought him up. Proposing your wishes in vain knowing truly he could never fulfil what you desired. “You’ll have to kill me first before you could ever get to him.”

“An unnecessary sacrifice.” He quickly corrected, as if such a thought had never crossed his mind.”How could I endanger the one I love most?”

Your face twisted in detest at his hypocrisy. “What do you know about love?”

Illumi merely blinked at your question, in which the answer was one that he thought was already apparent

“I love you.”

And yet a thousand needles could never the change the way you feel for him. You only saw darkness within Illumi, death was the only thing drilled into his mind for his purpose was designed only for murder.

But then why couldn’t you see any deception in his eyes? Why did he possess such sincerity when he declared his feelings for you. In the midst of constant exposure to inhumanity was it truly possible for hope and love to endure for Illumi?

At the cold realm on top of the mountain you have gazed at numerous celestial wonders of the universe, but none could compare to what you saw in his gaze. You recognised the fragments of humanity inside him and it was far more powerful than anything that you had ever witnessed before.

To have seen compassion for another being in a state of infinite chaos, Illumi was truly a wonder.

“We can have that, you know,” Illumi gently said. “A house for our own far away from here, school, friends, whatever you want.”

“But... not for him?” Your breath stopped when he nodded slowly, sympathising your disappointment at your speculation.

“His siblings may lead the normal life you intended for them, but it’s critical that the eldest Zoldyck carry on the family’s name and status.”

Like an echo through history, you really can’t stop the Zoldycks’ legacy. Nevertheless, the question still rang in your head alarmingly.

Could you do it?

Doom your firstborn to save the others?

After what you’ve been through was it the only logical choice?

“You can’t hurt him.”

Alas, the only natural rational course of action was to naturally comply. Illumi graced a genuine smile as he closed the distance between you and sealed the deal with a chaste kiss.

“Never.”

#pls dont ask me for a cont. 😭#illumi x reader #yandere illumi x reader #illumi zoldyck #yandere x reader #reader insert #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #tw:violence #tw:yandere #tw:dubcon #tw:torture #childbirth

985 notes · View notes

shall-we-imagine · 2 years

Text

Crime and Tea (SigurdxReader AU)

Hii I’m alive-ish lmao

genre: murder mystery, romance, comedy

“I hope you enjoy your stay, my lady.” Her butler bows slightly.

“I can already tell I’ll love it here; it’s so cozy!” Her eyes fail to commit to a single spot for longer than a second, excited to take in every detail of the small room.

“It’s rather humble in comparison to what you’ve grown used to, but since the train is the only way to the kingdom of light, this was the best I could find. My apologies.” He bows once more.

Her eyebrows furrow, but before any light hearted response could escape her, she realizes the reason for Sigurd’s elevated formality. The door to her room is still open, and there were innocent passersby and gossiping eavesdroppers alike. All are within earshot and are equally likely to assume a suspicious relationship between her and her butler.

She clears her throat, “I suppose this will do. You’re dismissed.”

Sigurd manages a small smile -one she happily returns- then bows and exists her room, not forgetting to slide her door shut.

(Y/N) huffs. She knows being so close to the royal family comes at a price, and it was worth it for the most part, but sometimes she wished she didn’t have to try so hard not to be the topic of interest amongst people, especially not because of such ‘scandal’. Sometimes she just wanted to spend time with Sigurd without it being ‘wrong’.

“Well, there’s always tea time, I suppose.” She smiles to herself.

In the meantime, (Y/N) seats herself by the window, patiently waiting for the scenery before her to change.

Shortly after she began losing interest in the repeating rows of trees rushing past the window, she hears a soft knock on the door.

“Come in.” She withholds her excitement in case the person behind the door isn’t who she anticipates.

A grin forms on her face at the sight of the dark haired man. She could tell he barely held back a smile too, but he made sure to close the door first, giving them the closest thing to privacy they could get on a train.

“It’s time for your tea break, Miss Queen’s personal detective.” Sigurd grins, “I suppose this could count as a celebratory tea break too.”

“Yes!!” She cheers, partially for her recruitment and partially just for hot tea and hot man. She was indeed a woman of simple needs.

The butler places a cup of hot green tea on the coffee table in front of her, “It’s the one you requested.”

Her face lights up; she clasps the warm cup, eager to take in a brew from a faraway land. She was ready to point out microscopic differences in the aroma and flavor of the tea, and Sigurd was ready to listen.

“Will you join me?”

It may appear as a question, but Sigurd knew this was a request- an order even.

“Anything for you, my lady.” He seats himself opposite to her.

“You know you can just say (Y/N), right? No one can hear us anyway.” The train had been enough of a nuisance to convince her it was impossible for anyone to overhear even if they tried.

“Well, aren’t you my lady even if people aren’t listening?” He gives an almost innocent smile. She knows that fucker did it on purpose.

The tea felt no hotter than her cheeks at the moment. “I- uh, well…”

Sigurd chuckles, “How’s the tea?”

“Oh, the tea!” Relief and excitement lead the way, “The smell is already so relaxing!”

“Indeed, it is.” His words accidentally seemed sarcastic, considering he picks that moment to pour himself some coffee.

She pays him no mind and finally takes her first sip. She takes a few moments to analyze the novel taste, “I love it!”

“Really?” Sigurd encourages a more detailed answer.

“It’s very different from what I’m used to; it doesn’t even taste like green tea, but it’s good.” She takes another sip.

“I wonder if it’s a mistranslation…” Sigurd takes a sip of his coffee.

“Hmm…I suppose it could be.” She ponders for a moment then shrugs, “You should try it anyway; it’s good.”

(Y/N) slides the cup towards him, and he gently picks up the ceramic floral cup almost like gripping it too much would break it. Well, the contrast between the size of the cup and the size of his hands made it very feasible.

She catches herself smiling at the thought and immediately tries to bring her attention back to the tea; the blush creeping up on her is obviously nonexistent, and she won’t acknowledge it.

“It really does taste nice. The flavor isn’t as bitter as usual green tea, which I like.”

“Don’t you like coffee?”

“Well, coffee makes bitterness taste better than green tea does; sue me.” He flicks his wrist dismissively.

She giggles, “I think you’re just biased.”

“Me? I’m never biased.”

“That’s a lie.” She smirks.

He observes her features for a few seconds before choosing violence. Or choosing to embarrass her- same thing, really.

“You’re right. I am biased sometimes- mostly when it comes to a certain person.” He waits for the flustered expression he adores so much.

There it is. He doesn’t prevent the smugness from showing on his face.

“You sound especially flirty today.” She mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

“Hmm?” She isn’t about to repeat herself, but he chooses to play dumb still.

“Nothing.” She sips her tea, “I heard Prince Caesar’s wedding was called off.”

As innocent as the statement sounds, Sigurd has gotten used to her subtle ways of asking for more information. Gossip is an integral part of tea breaks, after all.

His smile widens, “It was.”

She traces the rim of the now empty cup, “Why’s that?”

A sly aura surrounds the handsome man before her, as he leans in closer. His voice quieter than a whisper, he warns, “You’ve merely heard of this from the talk around town, and it’s not from a reliable source…”

“I’ve only heard of the wedding cancellation; that’s all I know.” Smiling, she assures her butler he won’t be getting executed for spreading this private information outside the palace. Well, not because of her at least.

She shudders at the image of Sigurd’s head rolling away from the guillotine for sharing the palace’s secrets, but she anticipates his next statement anyway.

“Good girl.” He whispers.

She instinctively pulls away from him, blushing furiously. The implications behind the simple words were glaringly obvious to her, yet he maintained the calm, innocent smile. Was she the one misinterpreting his signals? No, he’s certainly messing with her on purpose.

“Well, if you stay all the way over there, people might hear, and this is top secret.” He beckons for her to come closer to him; she hesitantly complies.

“The wedding was called off simply because…” Sigurd pauses for dramatic effect, as he does, “the groom wasn’t there.”

“What?!” She gasps, pulling away from him in shock, “Is he missing? Are they searching for him?”

Sigurd smirks. This is one of the main reasons he loves bringing her all the gossip: her reactions. He enjoys all her cute expressions and shocked remarks.

“Well, not exactly.” He pulls her by her arm, bringing his lips back to her ear, “Prince Caesar wasn’t kidnapped; rather, he was robbed.”

“Robbed?” She furrows her eyebrows, her head tilted towards Sigurd as if the answer would be written on his face.

“Of his heart, yes.” He pouts, pressing a palm to his chest.

Her eyes widen, “He was having an affai-”

Sigurd’s hand flies over her mouth, “Ssshh! You’re too loud!” he lets out a light laugh.

Just when she thought that was the most shocking part, Sigurd leans back in with the rest of his story.

“So, on the night before the wedding, he took off with his lover- who, by the way, is suspected to be a lowborn, but no one is fully sure of his identity yet.” Sigurd spills the rest of the details, “And that’s why the wedding had to be called off, but since the king and queen are ashamed their son took off with a lower class man, they don’t know if they’ll even call for an investigation to try to find him. I doubt the prince would come back on his own either.”

Her hand remains covering her gaping mouth, “Is this really the right time to visit the queen?”

“Well, they haven’t retracted their invitation, soo… would be a bit rude not to show up.” He shrugs, “Plus, at least we’ll go to the festival you wanted to visit for a while now.”

“You’re right; I can’t wait.” Her attention temporarily shifted from Prince Caesar; however, she couldn’t help but wonder how he’s doing. She’s never met him before, but she heard he’s a kind soul. “Still, I hope the prince is safe and happy with his lover.” She sighs.

“I trust the prince has a good survival plan.” He smiles reassuringly.

She opens her mouth to respond, but loud screams freeze time for a few seconds, as they try to make sense of it. “What was that?” she croaks.

“I- I don’t know.” His troubled expression fails to ease her nerves.

“We have to check.” She rushes towards the door, but Sigurd grips her arm.

“Stay behind me.” His pleading eyes bore into her, “Please.”

She doesn’t argue; she wanted to get to the source of the screams as soon as possible, even if it meant she doesn’t insist she can safely lead the way, and that she’s capable of taking care of herself. It wasn’t the time.

He takes a deep breath before carefully sliding the door open. He peeks outside, making sure it’s safe for them to walk out. “Stay close.” He instructs.

She almost pushes past him impatiently, but she forces herself to nod and match Sigurd’s -too slow for her liking- pace.

“Sigurd, you’re too slow.” She hisses.

“I’m sorry I don’t want us to be ambushed.” He retorts.

“Do you wanna make it to the front page for being the rudest butler?”

“I won’t let the fame get to my head; don’t you worry.”

She was once again interrupted before mustering a reply. “Wait.” Sigurd’s arm barricades the path to the next cart, aka the source of the screams.

“What is it?” She stands on the tip of her toes, trying to take a peek past his shoulders.

“A body.” He slowly allows her through.

“A…body..?” Her eyes frantically scan the scene in front of her.

“Everyone move out the way; this is an order.” She whips out her badge, showing it the circle of people who slowly make way for her.

The newly promoted detective squats down next to the body, silently cursing this new position that lead her to a murder case in less than a day.

Something catches her attention, and she tugs on the unconscious man’s unbuttoned collar, revealing bruises around his neck. “He was strangled…” She states.

“None of you saw anything?” She turns to face the crowd, only now noticing a bunch of familiar faces among them.

“The lights went out; no one could see anything.” One of said familiar faces speaks quietly.

“Gu- Er..Sir Brighton,” The formality tasted weird in her mouth, since the two were close friends, but she pushes through, “the lights seemed to be fine in my room; was it only this cart?”

“Seems like it.”

Another joins in, “My room was fine too. It seems the murderer knew what they were doing.” Luca, one of the very known noblemen, walks closer to the body casually. She saw through his cool attitude; this man is thrilled to be witnessing a murder. She cringes.

“He could still be alive.” A blonde man steps closer, “Can I check?”

The man is certainly a Goldstein, but she couldn’t quite tell which of the brothers. Regardless, they’re all well versed in medicine, so she had no problem trusting any of them.

“Yes, please.” Her next step had been finding a doctor for that exact reason, but the doctor seemed to find her first.

“I’m sorry, Miss Hart, but I don’t think he made it…” The blonde apologizes and steps back, a grim look on his face.

“Took you no time at all, Goldstein.” Luca interjects, “Almost like you already knew he’s dead.”

There was no point in considering the possibility; Luca Orlem’s hobbies consist mainly of flattering and disturbing anything that breathes- that includes accusing his friend of murder for fun of course.

On the bright side, she now knows which Goldstein this is (by relying on Sigurd’s description of their relationship)

“Shut up, Orlem.” Elias mutters.

“Well, he’s not entirely wrong; everyone here is a suspect.” A man spoke, “Even you, Miss Hart.” It may have been disgust or just distrust, but the way he spoke brought everyone at least some discomfort. But he was right.

“You’re right.” She replies quietly, glancing at her butler near the door. He’s the only one, apart from herself of course, that she could confirm wasn’t near the body when it happened.

Her train of thoughts was cut off when she noticed he was frantically trying to tell her something.

Azusa Kuze!!, Sigurd mouths while aggressively pointing at the man.

Azusa Kuze?! Her eyes widen. Did the case just solve itself by this man’s presence? No, she’s a professional. She won’t make assumptions; he may be a very shady individual with a couple of accusations pointing right at him to no avail, but that doesn’t make him the murderer. Not yet at least.

She will, however, keep her eye on him.

She mouths a thank you to her butler before redirecting her attention to the body.

“Nobody touch or move the body.” She orders, “Anyone that does as much as come near the body will be convicted for tampering with evidence.”

She stands up, “As Mr. Kuze stated previously, everyone here is a suspect; therefore, for your own safety, don’t put too much trust in your surroundings and avoid being isolated from the crowds. I’ll send someone to guard the electric-”

Her heart drops.

The lights went out before she could send someone to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Fear spread like wildfire: screams and rushing footsteps (loud enough to cover up another murder) took over the cart.

“Stop! everybody stay quiet and stay still!” She yells sternly, but no matter how many times she yells for them to quit making it easy for the culprit, her voice was drowned out by all the fearful passengers.

It couldn’t have been longer than like 30 seconds, but the desperation and fear stretched these seconds to minutes, and in her mind, this was enough time for more victims or even an escape- what is she gonna do?! She might as well just bury herself alive right this second and be forever remembered as the failure of a detective she is.

The light coming back almost suffocated her; she wanted to feel relieved, but she was scared to see the aftermath of her incompetence.

Nervously, she begins scanning the now awfully quiet cart; everyone is collectively holding their breath, searching for the new body.

“Everyone’s alive…?” Uncertainty kept her voice a whisper.

“Seems like it.” Guy responds.

She almost lets out a sigh of relief.

Almost.

“Where’s the body?” A man bursts into the cart.

“Zeus, can we not do this?” A dark haired man follows behind.

She recognized the two problems approaching her, but a bigger, far more serious problem stuck out like a sore thumb. Where is the body?

Her eyes scan the crowd circling her for the missing culprit, but everyone was right there- Azusa Kuze included. It wasn’t enough time for someone to leave the cart, hide the body, and come back; this served as proof there may be more than one criminal on board after all.

“Mr. Curtis, please go make sure nobody manages to mess with the power again- quick before they do it again.” She orders, “No one else enters or leaves this cart; this includes you Mr. Brundle and, of course, your butler.”

Sigurd bows before exiting the cart.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Zeus steps forward.

She raises her badge, “As a matter of fact, I can. Unless you’d like to be the main suspect on a murder case.”

“Main suspect?! I wasn’t even here for it!”

“Do you have any proof?” She raises an eyebrow and awaits his response or rather the lack thereof.

“Hiro was with me; we were at the bar.” He crosses his arm, “And I’d like to go back, since there is no body after all.”

His butler rolls his eyes, “You’ll get us beheaded, Brundle; let’s just wait till this is over.” He drags Zeus to the side.

“No- I don’t- ugh- fine.” Everyone watches as Zeus slowly gives in.

Nada turns around to face the other side, “Now…I wanna hear everybody’s alibi.”

She points to the person on her far right, “You. Where were you before and during the power outage?”

He wasn’t someone she recognizes, and she wished Sigurd was here to help guide her with his unending knowledge of everybody’s backstory, but here she was anyway.

“Just…sitting here…” The man spoke quietly.

Right. It’s a train; everyone can just say that. What was she expecting?

“Did you notice anyone suspicious?”

His eyes- well, eye, technically, considering the other was covered by an eye patch- shift towards Luca, “No…” He mumbles, looking back at the detective.

His hesitation hadn’t escaped her.

“Are you sure?”

He nods.

“Well, did you notice any strange behavior by Mr…” she trails off.

“Qing. Mr. Qing.” Azusa finishes her sentence.

“Yeah, Mr. Qing, did you notice him acting a little strange?”

“I don’t know him, so I suppose not.”

“You claim to have just been sitting there, yet you’ve noticed absolutely nothing in your surroundings.” She knew it was entirely possible, but for now, everyone is a suspect, and she was to treat it that way. Plus, she’d learned it firsthand that people are a lot more likely to throw others under the bus if they think it keeps others from pointing fingers at them.

His stare was the most blank she’d ever seen, “Yes.”

“Can anyone confirm you never left your seat?”

“Yes, I was with Yukiya the whole time.” The Goldstein interjects.

“It wasn’t your turn to speak, Mr. Goldstein.”

“Sorry.” His head hangs low.

Her gaze shifts back to Yukiya- his permanently blank stare unchanged.

Her vision slowly pans over to the next suspect. Vincent Knight. He’s a pretty famous merchant; his presence made the most sense to her, since the festival brought all types of buyers and sellers to the kingdom of Light. He’s more likely not the culprit, but she has to be sure.

“Mr. Knight.” She directs his attention to her.

“Miss Hart.” His flirtatious gaze brings color to her cheeks.

She clears her throat, “What were you doing before and during the power outage?”

“I was asleep.” He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“You were also right next to Glenn…” A familiar voice mumbles. Joel Crawford. She knew Joel since childhood, and he wasn’t one to start a fight, so his accusation came as a bit of a shock to her.

“What are you trying to say, kid?” Annoyance displayed itself openly on his features.

“I’m saying you’re too calm for someone whose friend just got murdered.”

“And that makes me a murderer?!” His voice got louder.

“Hey!” She needed to regain control over the situation, “No one is accusing anyone; we’re all on the same team here.”

“I’d say it’s quite the opposite, really. I don’t trust any of you.” Zeus seemed to find this the best moment to share his totally asked for opinion.

“Oh, but you’re so trustworthy.” Azusa replies sarcastically.

“You wanna say that again, fuckface?!” Before Zeus could reach his target, his butler drags him by his arm further away.

Before Azusa could test Zeus’s willingness to cooperate with his butler, there was another power outage.

Fear struck (Y/N)’s heart. Is Sigurd okay? Did the murderer(s) get to him?

No, she has to focus- keep everyone safe. Sigurd will be fine.

However, even more so than last time, screams and footsteps cover up the sound of all possible crimes, and nothing she says changes anything.

Her eyes water helplessly. Someone is gonna die, and she can’t stop it.

The light comes back on.

“Vincent!” A woman screams.

(Y/N)’s heart felt heavy in her chest. She failed to save another person, and unless she finds the culprit, there could be more to come.

“Everyone, stay back!” She approaches the body. Why did the method change this time? Why was he stabbed rather than choked to death? Was the murderer trying to be quicker? Were they getting less confident in their abilities? Doesn’t that mean Vincent could still be alive? It hasn’t been long enough for him to bleed to death, but…

Her eyes told a different story. There he was, very much dead.

Still, after silently observing his lifeless face, she turns to the professional, “Mr. Goldstein?”

He nods and rushes to her side.

He eagerly checks for any signs of life, alas, he shakes his head. “We lost him.”

What? This makes no sense.

Maybe Elias was lying.

Did Elias kill them?

Who was his partner in crime? Luca Orlem? Is his dislike for the charismatic nobleman a trick to repel suspicions?

Just then, her eyes fell on an item in Vincent’s open bag.

A fucking flashlight.

If he had a flashlight all this time, why didn’t he use it?

Nada grabs the flashlight. There’s no way he had a working flashlight in his bag, right?

However, with a simple click, a beam of light circles Elias.

Why didn’t he use it? It’s almost like he was trying to get murdered!

Unless…

Nada pulls out a shotgun and aims it at Vincent.

“W-what are you doing?!” His accomplice leaps in front of him.

“Step aside, Goldstein, you’ll get your turn after.”

Luca takes a seemingly hesitant step forward, “But…he’s already dead; why waste a bullet?”

Ha! They’re telling on themselves at this point.

“Step aside, both of you. Unless you wanna get shot.” She warns.

“Please, put the gun down; he’s dead. Why do you wanna shoot him?” Elias pleads.

Nada sighs before forcefully pushing past the two equally guilty men. She was gonna deal with them, but she had to prove her theory first.

“There’s no reason this man would have a flashlight and not use it, unless…” She grabs his hair, lifting his head up to face her.

“Unless…?” Zeus asks.

She presses her gun below his chin. “Unless he doesn’t want the killer to get caught.”

“Why would he help the killer?” Hiro stared at her like she was insane, but so did everyone else.

“Because this is not a murder…this is an escape.” She cocks her gun.

His eyes shoot open, “Please” he breathes out.

She grabs him by his collar, pulling him into a chokehold and turning to face the other two.

“Get down.” She points her gun at Vincent’s head. Luca and Elias comply.

“Miss Hart, please, let me explain.” Elias’s voice was shaky.

Everyone was frozen in place until Zeus seemed to break free from the trance. “Are you guys insane?! Tell her the truth! Now!”

The lights go off.

This time, she was ready. She pushes Vincent to the ground and shines the flashlight at the 3 culprits.

That’s when she saw it. The door to the cart Zeus and his butler came through was opening ever so slowly. Nada aims her gun at the entrance.

Sigurd walks in, holding a cake.

“Oh, dear, what happened?” He chuckles nervously.

“Sigurd?”

The lights come back on.

“Surprise?” Vincent hesitantly pushes himself off the floor, followed by Elias and Luca.

“I- what?”

“Congrats on the recruitment.” Joel punches her shoulder lightly.

“Yeah, we’re all happy for you.” Glenn peeks through the open door with a smile. He’s alive?

“What’s going on?”

“We really got you good, huh?” Zeus laughs.

“Should’ve seen your face!” Hiro adds.

“Was this all a prank?”

“Damn, you really are slow; let’s eat cake!” Zeus approaches Sigurd.

~~~

“I still can’t believe you planned all of this.” Nada sheepishly takes a bite out of her cake, “I really thought people were dying; I thought you died!”

Sigurd chuckles. “Worry not, my lady,” He brings her hand to his lips, “I’ll always be here by your side.”

“I- of course you will! It’s your job!” She pulls her hand back in embarrassment.

“Yes, yes, it is.” He smirks, “But, I wanna be by your side in other ways too.”

“What ways?”

Sigurd leans into her, his hot breath on her neck, “I’ll show you when we get to the hotel; how about it, hmm?”

“I- yes, sounds good!” She pushes him away shyly.

Yet on the inside, she couldn’t wait to get to that hotel…

6 notes · View notes

vetrubius · 3 years

Text

ANONYMOUS AFFECTION

CHAPTER 1: ACKNOWLEDGING EXISTENCE/

W.C:1,624

Summary: Y/N L/N is a 24 year old bartender who owns a small bar. The usual life of hers is about to change after meeting the Hero Associations Chairman, Izuku Midoriya. She’s in charge of the afterparty of the Sports Festival for the Hero Association. Watch her as she falls in love gracefully with one of the strongest hero.

Warnings: Aged up characters, SMUT, Alcohol, Cigarette, Hook ups, Slight Name-Calling, Nudity :)))

The bar at the corner of the road had a warm aura in it. Any new comer would be welcomed at the sight of young adults lost in a mist of dense smoke, and liquor. The laughter resonating through the small bar established the happening atmosphere in the space. The humongous bar on the left did the space justice. The glowing bottles of alcohol with yellow encompassing it was a view worth dying for. The row of bottles stacked up from top to the bottom shelf was balancing the small live stage on the opposite side of the wall. The large floral stained window did justice to the space. The chairs and table in the middle were filled with people as the live performance was ongoing. The warm light flooding the room and the task light above the live stage ensured that the attention would remain to the girl singing on the stage.

You watch Jirou sing on the stage with her purple satin dress whose thin straps held up the dress and the fabric draping along her curves, highlighting them beautifully and enlarging every detail possible. On the stage with her was Mina, gracing the wooden floor with a green satin cage bralette and black latex which complemented her skin tone. Her sex appeal bursting through the whole space, kept the audience thoroughly involved with her. Behind the two ladies were Kirishima and Denki on the guitar and the drums. Kirishima adorning the little bow tie he’d tied over his white shirt and his low rise ripped jeans which lowkey showed his V through his shirt (not that he minded the way the college girls threw themselves at him). As Kirishima played his guitar, your gaze was fixed on the yellow haired friend with a black highlight who was playing his drums.

You and Denki had been friends for a while which had led to the build up of sensual energy between the two of you. There had been nights where your head was settled between his crotch, engulfing his manhood in your mouth as sweet moans escaped his mouths. His hands leaving marks on your ass and whimpers leaving your mouth and him filling you up to the point you couldn’t even talk or walk properly. Tonight might be another such night where you’d be under him with a guarantee of sore legs the next day.

“Hey Y/N,” your eyes darted towards the voice “Looking pretty in the trousers and shirt. Going for a gender neutral look?” Tenya said as he made himself comfortable on the bar chair.

“Yeah, trying that but clearly isn’t working on the person I want.” You said a smile creeping up your cheeks.

Tenya and you had been college best friends and the pact of not dating each other had already been made. The beauty of you two was the fact that both of you upheld it. You’d never thought about Tenya that way and he didn’t too.

“A shot of bourbon, please” he said as he shuffled in his seat to remove his wallet.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, the first one is on the house.” You said, sliding the shot glass towards him which he downed in almost an instant.

“Tough day at work, huh?” You asked, resting your chin between the palms of your hands as your elbows rested on the black granite table.

“Yeah, too many bad guys out there you know,” he said, signalling for another one “Keep the bar and yourself safe, Y/N.”

Your eyes returned back to the yellow-head on the stage. “So, Denki huh?” Tenya said while taking the second drink.

“Yeah, he’s a good plaything.” you said smiling at Kaminari from behind the bar.

“Don’t get emotionally involved with him. He’s a great guy. But not someone you’d want to spend the rest of your life with” he said while keeping the shot glass down.

“I don’t plan to. But I do plan to keep him on the toes until you get your official hero licenses. It’ll be a good motivation for him.” you said, looking back at Iida and grinning.

“The typical Y/N card. Always baiting other people to do their best using her body.” he said looking at the table and smiling.

You looked around the bar. The college kids sitting in front of you. Some were pursuing their education but most of them had to appear for their heroes licenses exam in six months. You too had dreams of becoming a hero when you were a kid. Until you realised your quirk was useless. The one idea of developing an amazing quirk that you desperately wanted was snatched away from you. The terror in your eyes when the doctor said to your guardians “Her quirk is being immune to alcohol poisoning” It felt like the world had collapsed. What could a 6 year old like you do with a quirk like that? The children in your school kept name-calling you. Drunk hag, alcohol creep were some of the many. You were so used to it.

Now that you were 24 and owned a bar, it’s not like your life had any spice to it. Just one night stands, your everyday customers and your best friend. Of course that didn’t mean you didn’t have ambitions. You did want a family and to be reciting your vows in front of the stained glass window. But you weren’t sure if you were available emotionally for anyone yet. Also, the acceptability of your quirk in the other households was not something you anticipated.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Tenya’s voice “Are you facing any problems in the bar?” he asked after downing his third drink.

“Yeah, the liquor prices are becoming slightly expensive, the electricity units are skyrocketing and I need more furniture,” you sighed. “I want more customers but where will I accommodate them?” your eyes returning to the stage but this time at Jirou.

“Actually our firm was planning a after UA festival afterparty, only for adults.” he said tapping his fingers on the cold platform. “Could we use your bar? There won’t be a lot of people. Only official members and the boss. Do you think you could handle that?” he glanced towards you.

A party? You pause to think a little.

Your brainstorming lasted roughly about 45 seconds.

“Yes, but I’ll need advance payment.” you say, looking at Tenya with fire in your eyes.

“I’ll ask for permission from my higher ups and let you know.” he said, picking up his bag “Meanwhile, you deal with him.” he said, tilting his head behind you.

You flip to be face in face with Denki.

“Hey sexy, ready to go?”

The door unlocked only for Denki to push you against the wall with his lips attacking yours. With one hand he grabbed your face while the other worked on locking the door.

“Aren’t we feisty today” you said as he made his way on your neck, as you tried to unbutton him with one hand and the other grabbing his hair. Denki was quick to pick you up in bridal style and make his way to the dining table. Before he kept you down, he unbuckled your trousers, removed and dropped them on the side.

Placing you softly on the table without breaking the kiss, he starts to slowly drag his fingers along the slit on your wet panties. “Oh Kaminari~” your back arching and your hands on his back, scratching every edge you can get.

Denki enjoying every little bit your body reacts. The small whimpers, the bite on his shoulder blades, most of all the way your mouth steams on his. It makes him almost lose whatever little composure he has out of the window.

“Ah gorgeous.” he said while breaking the kiss and taking a step back to admiring your body.

The little protective crystal dangling on your boobs. The black bralette, the white shirt covering your arms and your sides and your panties soaking wet for him. You looked sinful

“Beg.”

“Can you please eat me?” you ask, grabbing your one boob in your hand and the other one in your mouth.

“Try harder.”

“Sir, could you please eat me out?” you say between the moans, with one hand circling your clit, the other hand on your boob.

He picks you up again and takes you to the bedroom and dumps your body on the mattress.

“Come sit here, I wanna try something.” he said, clambering behind you. You don’t waste time trying to fit the pocket of his arms.

The second you make your way, his lips made his way on your ears as the walls witnessed your undoing.

With one hand, he played with your tits a little more and the other made his way inside your panties. This unholy sensation made your soul leave your body. His thumb rubbing your clit and his index and middle in your pussy. The squelches and your moans were absorbed by the walls. He knew you were at your limit.

Kaminari stopped abruptly, breaking a protest whine from you. “More, please” You said through your broken voice.

Meanwhile in Hero Association:

“Hey Tenya, how have you been?”

“I’ve been great. Hey, I got a venue for the afterparty. It’s a bar of one of my best friends. It’s down by the old man's shop.”

“I see. Y/N L/N, was it?”

“Yeah, her.”

“I’m interested. Could you book the place for 25th November?”

“Alright. I’ll email her. And Izuku?”

“Mhm?”

“You’ll find her interesting.”

“I hope so. It’s been a while” the putting out of a cigarette and footsteps towards the window was audible as the green haired hero overlooked the city.

series masterlist

45 notes · View notes

luzarya · 3 years

Text

To You, I give these Flowers of my Love

Yuu x Vil

Summary: Through (mostly) Vil's pov as he goes through the training and VDC, as he slowly realizes his love for Yuu, a little too late.

Ao3 link: here

warnings:

part: 2/2

-> (first)

word count: 6,004

Vil was unsure of how to feel at the moment. He had checked up on the potatoes in training after Yuu had fainted in the bathroom. Normally, he would have disregarded the entire ordeal, yet, he couldn’t shake off the scene that had laid before him as Yuu had fallen into his arms.

Blood was oozing from their mouth, along with pink and yellow flower petals. The sink was filled to the brim with them, the stench of blood almost enough to overwhelm his senses. No matter how he looked at it, it was an urgent emergency, one that needed immediate medical attention, lest death befall on the prefect.

Everyone was shaken from the event.

He could only hope that everyone would be able to steer their mind away from what had happened. He knew he wouldn’t be able to, but it was of utmost importance that he should.

He walked over to the window, the once abandoned dorm giving him a sense of odd comfort. It was no five star hotel, nor was it his dorm room, yet it was just enough. He could see a bit of Yuu’s personality shine through each room. At the windowsill, there was a small plant. It was a succulent, a plant that hardly needed watering until the soil was completely dry.

Right across from the window was a painting of sorts, one that hadn’t been there before. He knew it didn’t belong, the painting depicting flowers, the glowing paint painted in such a way that they looked similar to the will-o-wisps. That, and there was a signature at the bottom right of the painting, stylistic written to say YUU.

It was charming, to say the least.

He let out a sigh. It was rather late into the evening, yet the anxiety that had swelled up in his stomach prevented him from getting any sleep. A small part of him wondered how Yuu was doing, and if they were fine.

Although, time could only tell.

Training was a good way to numb the mind from the unnecessary. Not having Yuu around made things only ever so slightly harder, as Vil often found himself about to say their name when they were going to request them to do a task- turn on the radio, get us some towels, grab us some water, and all that a manager was to do.

And every time he almost did, he’s reminded of the painful situation that Yuu was somehow in. He didn’t quite show it, but he indeed cared for them as much as the rest of the ‘potatoes’. Despite Yuu’s small role as manager, they did have an impact on the others, fitting for the one called Beast Tamer. The difference in performance was slight, but it was there, no doubt caused by Yuu’s absence.

Yet, Vil couldn’t bring himself to berate Ace, or Deuce, or Kalim about it (Jamil performed just as usual, he noted). Not when he, too, depended on Yuu in some sort of way.

It had been a few days since he last saw Yuu, and the VDC was coming closer still. The only update he was told came from Crowley himself- that Yuu was undergoing a surgery to ‘cure’ them of their condition. He had briefly inquired about Yuu’s illness, yet Crowley was unable to give a proper answer.

“I’ll have yet to receive permission to talk of the qualities that Dorm Prefect Yuu bears in terms of what is ailing them… However, all that I may say is that it had come from the world in which they were brought forth in. Worry not, it is not contagious, as it relates to their wellbeing and how they were created.”

As if that had eased his worries. In between sessions and checking who was number one on Mira, Vil had begun to think of what kind of disease or illness that Yuu could possibly have. He couldn’t get rid of that night. He could still painfully hear Yuu’s loud fit of coughs, or their groans of despair. The fact that he hadn’t noticed until it was too late had hurt him even more.

He couldn’t properly take care of the manager, how could he properly care for the rest of the ‘potatoes’? What if-

No. Vil wouldn’t allow himself to think of such a way. Not now. No matter how much he wanted to think of Yuu.. because…

He, and his team, will defeat Neige Leblanc.

He’ll see to it that they do.

The day that Yuu had returned, Vil was more than relieved. To know that Yuu had returned safe and sound was more than he could ask for. The anxiety that once took hold in his stomach had disappeared nearly completely with Yuu’s arrival. The ounce that remained quietly nagged him, that there was something that was off, something wrong.

Yuu wasn’t the same Yuu as before.

He didn’t bring it however, and he made sure to let the others go see Yuu before him, Ace and Deuce the first ones to see Yuu, right after Grim. He wasn’t sure if Kalim and Jamil had taken a chance to go check on Yuu, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the two had gone to sleep before even knowing Yuu was here. He didn’t blame them, since training was still as strenuous as ever. They needed all the strength that they could get.

Vil stood in front of what was obviously Yuu’s door. It was hard to miss, the door painted with an array of flowers, glowing will-o-wisps, as well as small, glowing fairies. No other door had such a great amount of detail. Although he did question the choice of flowers, the very same ones that had brought Yuu into a coughing fit so violent, that they coughed up blood. Charming, at first glance, haunting once you knew the fact.

“Shall we go in, Roi du Poison?”

Rook stood next to him, giving Vil his a small, genuine smile. Vil, in return, offered one of his own. It was reassuring to have Rook there with him, the hunter always there whenever Vil needed any help of some sort.

“Yes, of course,” Vil replied. He quietly exhaled, placing his hand on the cold bronze doorknob, twisting it. The door opened slowly, but the two were hit with a strong floral scent.

The duo entered Yuu’s room, taking in the sight that had laid before them.

The normally energetic Yuu was sitting in their bed, their hands stroking Grim’s fur, as they scrolled through their phone. Yuu looked up at them, their weary eyes clearly telling them of how exhausted they were. Vil knew he couldn’t stay long, despite what the urge to stay and comfort them told him.

“How are you faring, Trickster?” Rook looked over Yuu with a great deal of concern, taking a glance to the two flower pots that sat next to the bed. Vil had to follow Rook’s line of vision to see them, the flowers almost obscured by the bed had Vil not turned his head ever so slightly.

The flowers were the same as those in the sink, but without the blood.

It was faint, but both Rook and Vil could smell the cleaning agents that were used to remove the blood. Rook was not there when Yuu had fallen, but he was there to witness the aftermath. There was a clear connection between Yuu and the sudden appearance of flowers, yet neither of them knew what it was other than it was there.

“I’m doing much better, Rook,” Yuu spoke, their voice hoarse and scratchy. “Just recovering is all.”

“If I may, what kind of surgery did they have to perform?” Vil stared at their eyes. Just moments before there was a brightness, but it had faded the moment he entered the room. Vil could tell that something else was amiss, yet he couldn’t place his finger as to what it was.

“Ah, they’ve removed the flowers out of my lungs.” Yuu looked down, petting the snoozing Grim. Before either Rook or Vil could ask another question, Yuu continued, “I decided to keep the flowers, as a reminder of my…” Yuu paused for a moment, the silence hanging heavy in the air, “Ah, no matter. In any case, the reason why flowers grew in my lungs was because we’re born with them. They usually don’t cause any problems, although removing them before they bloom is somewhat frowned upon, so we keep them.”

“Why in the name of the Seven would anyone keep the seeds in?” Vil didn’t understand the sentiment, although he knew that the world that Yuu had came from was different from the one they were currently in. It never occurred to him just how different it was.

Yuu averted their eyes, shifting in their bed, “Ah, I would like to answer your question, but…”

“I see,” Vil replied, noticing Yuu’s discomfort, “ We’ll let you get some proper rest, then. Sleep well, Yuu.” Vil could see there was something that was troubling Yuu, noticing that their eyes were beginning to water. “Let’s go, Rook.”

“Good night, Trickster.” Rook gave a slight bow, and the two then left the room, closing the door quietly behind them. Just as expected, the two could hear the stifled cries that were muffled through the door. The two looked at one another, concern lacing their expressions.

“We should go, Vil. I don’t believe it would be best for us to remain much longer.”

Vil let out a small sigh, yet he understood, “You’re right, Rook. We should prepare for bed ourselves.”

Rook tipped his hat, giving one last farewell before he left, leaving Vil alone in the hall. Vil lingered for a moment more, hearing another quiet wail rip through the room, softened by the door. He felt pity for them, truly, he did. He didn’t know what Yuu was going through, but it was obvious enough that there was emotional pain behind it all that made it worse. He wondered if there was anything he could do, but all he could was to leave Yuu alone, as they had requested.

Vil then walked over to his room, feeling a deep pain in his chest, unsure of what to make of the feeling.

The day of the VDC had come, and Vil felt a small amount of anxiety pulse through his veins. Today would be the day that he’ll finally be number one, and all his hard work would pay off. Everything was perfect and ready to go, although Vil had found that his mind had at times wandered in curiosity of Yuu’s wellbeing. He supposed it was natural, as Yuu had been a slight help in their duty as manager. After everyone saw Yuu, Vil could see that everyone was back to their high spirits.

He was in the middle of preparing for the rehearsal, overseeing the progress that everyone was making, giving last minute advice to those who had needed it, and everything he possibly could to have a better chance of beating Neige Leblanc. It was going well, as Neige Leblanc had yet to arrive (although, it would be awhile or anyone non-related to NRC to arrive).

Vil continued on with his task, until it was noon, when Yuu was to come over and see them. Everyone had their reservations, him especially, knowing that Yuu had recently gone through a surgery. No doubt they were still dealing with the aftermath of it all. Yet, Yuu pushed- stating that they wanted to see them perform, as a way to keep their mind from the events that had led up to the surgery. With that said by the dorm prefect, no one, not even Vil, could deny Yuu’s request.

So here they were, being told off by a staff member that only staff can enter the area.

“The potato and monster are our staff. I have handed them the staff pass.” On cue, Yuu holds up their staff pass, albeit weakly. Vil didn’t comment on it, knowing that Yuu was still recovering.

The unnamed staff member quickly apologizes, allowing Yuu and Grim to enter.

“Thank you, Vil,” Yuu gives a small bow of appreciation.

Vil turns to face Yuu, who was smiling happily, their eyes seeming to sparkle and their smile rather adorable. Vil could feel the happiness radiate off of them, influencing him to smile as well. At least, he thought, they were doing much better than the previous night.

“How brave of you to show up as the last one, Manager.”

Yuu’s smile became a tad more devilish, their former self unearthing a little bit more. “Well, I did get caught up with Prefect Riddle on my way here, Prefect Schoenheit.”

“Are you enjoying the festival?” Vil shifted his body, focusing more on Yuu. Their presence gave them a sense of calm. It was only now did Vil realize how much he missed Yuu, despite meeting them just a few weeks ago.

“Yep! Seeing what the other club’s had to offer was pretty neat.”

Before Vil could ask a question, Rook showed up, smiling as usual. Grim, who was unnoticed until now, made a comment about the amount of people outside the venue, as the rest of the team gathered around Yuu. The conversation continued, about the VDC and how their performance would go. Vil was pleased to know that they still had confidence, after all, it would be key for the performance.

Yet, before it could go any further, the chatter was interrupted by a dreadfully sweet voice.

“Vi-kun?”

It was Neige. Oh how wonderful.

“I knew it! It was you!” Neige came closer, Vil distraught by his appearance. He could hear the ‘potatoes’ talk behind him, making mostly comments about Neige. He could feel his blood boil, annoyed by Neige’s appearance. He only served as a reminder that Vil was not the fairest of them all.

Forced into a conversation, Vil complied and reluctantly replied to Neige’s statements. It ended rather quickly when he had to go upon the stage for the rehearsal. He couldn’t steal a glance from Yuu, but he walked upon the stage nonetheless. He’ll steal their breath away, he was sure of it.

They performed, the rehearsal going very well, the group managing to capture the attention of all. The staff sang their praises, one even asking for an interview, and another asking for a recording. Once consenting to the video, everyone could see the amount of likes and views skyrocket the moment it was uploaded.

As everyone was scrutinizing their performance, Vil walked off to the side, alone. Pulling out his phone, he said, “Oh, Mira, Mira, tell me.”

His phone vibrated, the automated feminine voice ringing out, “Yes, what would you like to search?”

“Now at this moment, who is the most beautiful in the world?”

“ “Beautiful” Number of No. 1 mention, Account… The search result on the WEB regarding this is…”

The robotic voice paused for a moment, Vil patiently waiting for it’s response.

“It’s Vil Schoenheit,” the robotic voice rang. Vil widened his eyes, surprised by the results, no doubt aided by the sneak peek of the rehearsal. Yet, he was not displeased, rather, he let out a small chuckle, very much pleased by the results. Finally, at last, he was number one. He was, 100%, the fairest of them all.

Words couldn’t describe the immense joy that Vil had felt right then and there.

“Alright, next! The representatives of Royal Sword Academy, please standby!”

Neige and his friends went up the stage, and began to perform. Vil’s happiness was short lived, seeing how everyone fawned over the sloppy performance. The performance captured all of the hearts of the staff, a swelling hatred taking hold in Vil’s gut. The staff began to ask many questions as soon as the students from the sword academy were done. It was obvious that they were enamored by their rather uncoordinated performance, yet it had its own charm that had captured their hearts.

Vil knew this all too well.

Vil stared at Neige as the scene unfolded before him, as Neige answered the questions. ]

“Vil… Vil?”

Vil snapped out of it, turning to Rook, “Huh…?”

“What’s the matter? You’re pale, are you unwell?”

Vil shook his head, “I’m quite alright, there is nothing to worry about.” He let out a sigh, “This wasn’t worth a watch, I’ll be heading back to my dressing room.”

Vil left the scene, Rook and the rest of the team looking at his disappearing figure with great concern. As that happened, Grim watched the Ramshackle prefect’s body still, their eyes becoming glassy.

“Yuu?” Grim pawed at the prefect, garnering the attention of their friends.

Yuu’s eyes returned to normal, as they clutched their head, “Ah…. this…”

“Yuu-san, are you alright?” Epel gave a worried glance, fiddling with their hands.

“Are you hungry?” Grim climbed onto Yuu, their claws digging into the fabric rather harshly. Yuu weakly brought their arms up in order for Grim to settle into their arms, giving the troublesome cat a smile.

It took some time to dispel their friend’s concerns, as a loud voice boomed to let everyone know it was lunch time. Quickly, Yuu followed to where Vil had vanished, entering the stone halls quietly as they could. Yuu still held onto Grim tightly, as they complained about the fact they were not getting lunch.

Passing through, they noticed a broken phone, as they finally reached where Vil was. Hiding, Yuu could hear a conversation happening, between Neige and Vil. Yuu could practically hear venom sweetly dripping from Vil’s voice, as he offered Neige a beverage.

A poisoned apple cider, by the looks of it.

Yuu stared, their body freezing up from the realization. Fortunately, there was someone to intervene, Rook coming through and taking the beverage away from Neige, much to the astonishment of Vil.

Rook urged Neige to run off, and he did, as Vil simply stood there, bewildered, Yuu still hiding away. Just as Rook was about to take a sip of the poisoned drink, another person intervened, slapping the drink from Rook’s grasp.

“YOU CAN’T!”

Kalin stood over the shattered glass, Rook and Vil now noticing the presence of Yuu and Grim, Kalim huffing from his previous actions.

Yet, their actions didn’t calm the rage that was flowing through Vil’s veins, as Yuu simply remained quiet as the conversation continued without their input. The poisoned juice began to move, the air becoming thick with darkness,

Yuu could see Vil unfold, hearing Rook’s warnings of Vil’s unique magic as Yuu heard the tragic words that had spilled from their soulmate’s mouth.

“Please… Don’t look…! Don’t look at me with such eyes! Why?! I just wanted to be the most beautiful in the world, and yet… I’m unsightly! Ugly! Unfitting!”

Vil could feel despair overtake his emotions, his mental state deteriorating as he felt the harsh changes that befall upon his body. He was never beautiful, why did he ever think of that? Why did he put all that effort to be number one, even though he knew he’ll always be overshadowed?

Everyone stood in horror upon the realization that Vil was going through an overblot, as they tried to calm him down. Yet, their voices never reached Vil’s ears, the cursed vapor making it too unbearable to tolerate, forcing everyone’s bodies to freeze and remain where they were, as Vil’s voice bounced off the walls as he explained the effects of the curse, though his thoughts were elsewhere.

Fate had other plans, however, as Jamil swooped in with the magical carpet, saving them from the curse fully taking effect. With the few remaining strength, everyone got on the flying carpet and swiftly left the hall.

The outside didn’t fare any better, the sun’s light blocked by the cursed mist, not a single soul to be seen. Absolutely deserted, fortunately. The mystery had been answered by Jamil, saying that he had used his skills to convince everyone to leave the area, having a bad feeling about what was to come.

Not a moment later did Ace, Deuce, and Epel return, to tell everyone of what they had experienced. They had managed to get any loiters away, the mist covering as soon as they finished the job.

It was only a minute later did Vil emerge in his overblot state. His emotions were haywire, spiraling out of control. Standing proud, he started to attack his team, his negative emotions making his magic stronger than ever.

The group decided it would be best to fight Vil in his overblot state and the ink-like creature behind him- at least, until reinforcements came.

Yuu had to keep a distance, something of which deepened the pain that Vil felt deep inside his gut. Vil let out a loud exclamation of his beauty as everyone got into position to battle the oveblot.

It was a tedious battle, each magic hit taking more and more out of everyone, except for Yuu as they kept hidden. So long it was, that it came to a point where everyone was panting from exhaustion, just about to give out, hopeless.

“Bet the Limit!”

Deuce launched his unique magic, shocking everyone, including Vil as his overblot was brought to an end. Memories came flooding into Yuu, and as before, like with every overblot, it was those of Vil.

Memories of his childhood as a child actor, how he was bullied for playing as the bully of the main protagonist. Of how he was always, without exception, casted as the villain. Yuu could feel their heart throb from the pain from the many years of being ignored in favor of others.

Vil dropped to the ground, his body making a loud thud as it came into contact with the ground. The shadow that once loomed over him was gone, taking its place was a single, dark gem. It was both Rook and Yuu who had rushed to Vil’s body, everyone taking the opportunity to catch their breath after the long, exhausting fight.

“Vil… Oh my beautiful Vil,” Rook grabbed ahold of Vil’s body as Yuu peered over, their eyes watery. “Please open your eyes.”

Vil groaned, pressing his hand against his temple as he tried to recollect what had happened. Yuu gushed over, their cries loud and tearful.

“You had us all worried!”

“Yuu, careful, you’ve recently came out-”

“Oh, like I care, Rook!” Yuu silenced him, looking back to Vil as he clutched his head even harder from the excess noise.

Kalim came over, too, in tears as he sniffed, “I’m so glad,” a hiccup, “Vil! Please don’t worry us like that!”

Everyone fussed over Vil as he tried to get his bearings. It took a few minutes of everyone’s chatter did Vil piece together what had happened, as Epel made a comment, remarking his overblot as a tantrum.

After some more chatter, the group brought up a rather good question: how were they going to fix the area?

Vil’s overblot had caused great damage, the entire stadium in shambles.

The question hung in the air as everyone began to panic. The VDC will become an absolute disaster should they be unable to fix the stadium in time.

As luck would have it, their savior came in the form of the Malleus Draconia, of which had become friends with the then-energetic Yuu. The moment the all-powerful fae had entered, bypassing the cursed barrier that Vil has brought up earlier, all eyes were on him as Yuu called him by Tsunotarou, eliciting shocked responses from all.

Yuu gave a full rundown as what had happened, as everyone either listened or did their own thing. Vil sat next to Rook on the broken stage, a gnawing envy eating away at his stomach. He only recognized the emotion, but could not place a finger as to why he felt such a way.

Malleus, now having a better grasp of the situation at hand, used his magic to fix the entire area, stating that Vil would owe him. Hearing that, Vil furrowed his head in confusion.

With a simple phrase, Malleus returned the stadium back to its original state, clean and free of debris.

Yuu continued to talk with Malleus, still calling them Tsunotarou despite now knowing their true name. The envy seemed to grow in Vil’s stomach as he saw the exchange, averting his eyes and turning back to Rook.

It soon came the time to perform, everyone getting ready for it. Vil was still in pain, although he hid it that no one, outside of the team of course, could tell that he was injured to begin.

The actual competition was harsh, each team giving their all. The music was loud, and everyone cheered for each team. There was a strong tension in the air from the competitors, yet there was a tinge of hopelessness, as everyone knew it would be either NRC or RSA who would win. This did not deter the competitors from giving their all, however, and all gave their best.

The voting then came, the audience tense themselves as they voted for what they thought was the best group. No one said a word, the only audible thing being the instrumental music blasting throughout the stadium. Yuu clutched their phone in anticipation, drops of sweat forming at the top of their forehead. Grim was of no help, their body heat only making it worse for Yuu. It didn’t help that soon after their friend’s performance was done, Vil had fallen as Rook called for some cooling spray and bandages.

Malleus sat next to them, their presence only bringing a small sense of comfort, Lilia carefully explaining to Malleus on how to vote, Silver and Sebek nearby, calm and collected.

The announcer came upon the stage, everyone now paying attention to them. The person held out an envelope, their voice replacing the music that once was heard.

“Oh my! The difference between first and second is by one vote!”

Yuu felt their headache becoming worse at the fact, already feeling the dread that, perhaps, their friends and Vil did not win the competition.

“Royal Sword Academy!”

Yuu could already feel the tears starting to form in the corner of their eyes, their arms pressing harder against Grimm’s small body.

“Hey! Watch it, I ain’t no stress ball, Yuu!”

Yuu looked down, and their worries eased, if only slightly. “Sorry, I’ll give you some tuna, okay?”

Grumbling, Grimm remarked that he best receive twice the amount than usual to compensate for the harsh squeezing.

Yuu could hear Neige’s voice amongst the sudden chatter, as he and the dwarves took the stage once more. Near them, Yuu also heard the voices of their friends as they expressed their astonishments, surprised at the entire outcome.

As being near the stage, due to being the manager for Vil and his group, Yuu had perfect access to the entirety of what was happening.

The words that had come out from Rook surprised them- voting for RSA? His vote likely being the tiebreaker? With this newfound information, Yuu felt a swell of emotions, all negative, yet their mind was blank as well. They didn’t know how to react, and certainly Vil did not either.

Despite their obvious loss, Neige came over to the group, speaking his truths to them, stating how the performance was something that only they, Vil and company, were capable of. As expected, everyone was speechless, unsure of how to quite respond to such praises.

Although, the next thing that Neige had brought up was… quite unexpected. Rook being a Neige fan was certainly surprising, Yuu’s anxiety washing away as it was replaced with that of laughter.

Neige then encouraged Vil to dance with him, the crowd in an uproar at the sight of the two holding hands. Vil, albeit very reluctantly, danced, keeping up a professional charade through it all.

The VDC then came to an end, Yuu quickly went backstage to meet up once again with their friends. Everyone was fine, though solemn from their loss. Vil was affected the most, still reeling in from the effects from the overblot, as well with Neige’s words.

Neige did have a point, but it still felt rather… odd, to day the least, to hear words of comfort from someone you would consider as a rival.

“How are you faring, Vil?” Yuu asked softly, their eyes half lidded, as if they were to fall asleep then and there.

“I’m all fine, Yuu,” Vil answered, hiding his injury. “No need to worry.”

Yuu’s eyes turned to a glare, their harshness causing Vil to flinch. “Now, listen, you,” Yuu spoke in a low tone, “I didn’t get surgery to remove these damn flowers to live for you only to tell me that you’re fine. You’re obviously not, Vil. Spill . Tell me what ails you.”

Vil only let out a small chuckle at Yuu’s statement, although it was not like he didn’t appreciate it- he truly did, it was just that he didn’t believe Yuu would be so aggressive about it. Yuu’s glare only became colder, as Vil let out a cough.

“Well, if you truly must know,” Vil leaned back on the wall, “It does hurt, but no need to worry. It’s not something that I can’t handle.

Yuu sighed loudly, shaking their head. “I’ll come by your room later on to give you something, alright? Once this festival ends for the day.”

“Hm? May I ask, what would it be?”

“Just something small, you’ll see,” Yuu glanced around, “Well, I don’t want to steal you from everyone else,” a small laugh, “So I’ll see you later Vil, please take care.”

Yuu gave a small bow, and then went off to meet with Ace and Deuce, already easing their way into their conversation.

Vil felt the envy come back, although small, as he watched just how Yuu conversed with their friends. Vil didn’t realize that Rook had tried to talk to him until the hunter in question began calling his name out various times.

“Mon ami, are you fine?”

“Ah, yes. I am, why do you ask, Rook?”

Rook’s worried expression was enough for Vil to understand, that he had been acting off, and truly, who else better to notice than his friend of two years?

“Roi du Poison, you have not been acting like your former self since what had happened. Is there anything that you need?”

Vil shook his head, appreciating his friend’s words. Rook may have been a secret Neige fanboy, perhaps like Neige even more than him, yet Vil knew that the friendship between the two of them was genuine. “Thank you, but there is no need.”

“Now, let us enjoy this festival, there is much left to see, is there not?”

The dorm was calm, the sound of jazz playing quietly in the background. Of course, the source of the jazz came from the ghosts as they fooled around in the dorm.

And true to Yuu’s word, they were outside of Vil’s room, a small pot of pink roses and yellow daffodils in their hands. Knocking against the wooden door, they waited.

Vil opened the door, the young man still dressed as neatly as ever.

“Good evening, Vil.”

Vil smiled softly, and replied as softly, “Good evening to you as well, Yuu.” He noticed the flowers, and raised a brow in confusion. These were the same flowers that had grown inside Yuu’s lungs…

“May I ask, are those for me?” Vil didn’t quite know what to do with such flowers, much less with the burden of the knowledge of their origins.

“Yes,” Yuu replied, their voice having a certain sadness to it, “they are.” Yuu pushed the pot into Vil’s hands, as the receiver awkwardly held the tragic flowers.

“Are these not the flowers that caused you your problem?”

“Yes,” Yuu half-lied, “They are.”

“Then why?”

Had these been normal flowers, Vil would have gratefully taken them with hope, yet these flowers, as you my dear readers know, are not normal flowers. These were flowers born from love that was not known nor requited…

At least, at the time they were.

Oh, had the gods not meddled enough with their fate?

“Because,” Yuu managed to get out, “They represent my feelings for you. Literally.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Vil stared down at the flowers, wondering as to how they could represent Yuu’s feelings, if literally.

“These grew because of my certain feelings, and now,” Yuu began, “they live in physical form. No longer do they live inside me, those feelings, so forcibly taken out.”

Vil could only listen to Yuu, unsure of what to make of their words.

Yuu continued, “So please, take these flowers. They won’t die, not as long as my feelings for-”

Yuu choked on the word, then coughing. Alarmed, Vil placed the pot inside his room and then he hit Yuu's back to help. Once the cough had subsided, Yuu weakly pushed Vil’s arm away from them, flashing them a sad smile.

“Yuu…?”

“I’ll be fine, I suppose I should be resting. You as well,” Yuu warned, “But I guess I can’t really chastise you for that, huh?”

“True, we both have our own faults, I suppose,” Vil chuckled.

“As I was saying. As long as the feelings I have are true, the flowers will persist. They won’t die, at least, not like before.”

“What do you mean?” Vil gave Yuu a puzzled look. Not like before?

“These flowers would have died should I had felt another emotion at the time, but since I didn’t feel it, or well, receive it, the flowers grew until it became a serious problem,” Yuu sighed, “Honestly, I’m pretty sure I won’t ever feel those feelings again, at least, not if I replant the flower seeds.”

“Why in the name of the Seven would you do such a thing?” Vil couldn’t understand, but ignorance is bliss, as one would say.

“For love.”

Those words, those two words, brought Vil’s expression to one of shock.

“Of… love?”

“Yes, of love,” Yuu glanced downwards, avoiding Vil’s eyes, “My world, we have our patron gods. The one that oversees our city is that of love. Tragic love, as one may say,” they hoarsely laughed, “Our city is known for being the one where one may experience love so easily, yet the catch is that such love may turn out to be tragic. I would go into detail as to why, but I’m afraid,” a yawn, “that it would be a story for another day.”

“I see…”

Still not meeting their eyes, Yuu then said, “I only wanted you to be aware. Please, I know you may not love me in return, but I ask that you take care of these flowers. That’s all.”

Without a response from Vil, Yuu turned and left, their footsteps echoing throughout the hall as Vil contemplated their thoughts.

Vil, slowly, closed the door, quietly. He picked up the pot, walked, and sat on his bed. The flowers were as beautiful as ever, the smell of cleaning agents gone, as if they were never there. Who knew that such flowers would represent such a thing.

It took a moment for Vil to realize and fully comprehend Yuu’s words.

Love.

Why, of all people, had Yuu given them the flowers? It couldn’t be because they had loved him, right?

Surely, that’s not why?

Vil gasped loudly, as he felt his injuries starting to flare up. Foolish, he was, not realizing it earlier. Why now, of all times, had he fully realized his feelings? All the envy, the need to call out for Yuu, the concern, everything.

Yuu loved him. And he, loved Yuu.

Yet, Yuu didn’t have the privilege to feel such emotions, do they? For it was the flowers that were the physical representation of their love…

Truly, he was ever so foolish.

#Yuu x Vil Schoenheit #twst x yuu #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland #twst yuu #hanahaki mention #luzarya writes things yuh

45 notes · View notes

deathisanartmetzli · 3 years

Text

Two for One || Bex & Metzli

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @inbextween @deathisanartmetzli

SUMMARY: Metzli gets more than just a donation from Bex, and they really don’t like it.

CONTAINS: TW- Mentions of Child Death, Mentions of Parental Death, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Homophobia and Transphobia, Vampire Compelling-

It wasn’t technically nerves that coursed through Bex as the uber pulled up to the art gallery, but there was a sense of excitement tingeing her cheeks. On Bex, it could have easily been mistaken for anxiety or nerves, as she stared wide-eyed up at the sign above the doors. There were so many things she didn’t know about White Crest and it’s people, and she found herself almost desperate to know them. Desperate to know the world she was always supposed to be part of. Anyone who offered even a morsel of that was on her list of people to talk to, to befriend, to know. Metzli was at the top of the list, if only because they hadn’t beat around the bush with anything, and Bex appreciated the candor. As well as the shmoozing. It wasn’t necessary, she’d write them a check for whatever amount they wanted, but it was still...flattering. She was still letting herself get used to being okay with being openly out, and it felt nice, she supposed, to be seen in that way. Not that she needed it! Mina was more than enough, and Bex wasn’t that daft (though she still was holding out hope that maybe Metzli was just being nice, maybe they were just trying to butter her up and just wanted to be her friend), but as she always did, she wanted to give them a chance, first. She couldn’t help it, it was as much a flaw as it was a strength. She supposed it was only a matter of time before it bit her in the ass, but she was really hoping that wouldn’t be the case here.

Pushing the front door open, Bex glanced up as the bell chimed to announce her arrival. It was quiet inside, no one else was really around, and she was grateful for that-- she still had a hard time in crowds, fearing the magic that pulsed beneath her fingers, and what harm it could do to people. But Metzli was a vampire, and her magic was mostly harmless against the undead. Which, again, both good and bad. Sai hadn’t taught her any barrier spells yet, so she really had no way to defend herself, other than the can of mace she always carried in her purse. It was a last resort only, though.

Bex perked up when she heard footsteps approaching and grinned, smoothing down the fringes of her dress. “Hi! It’s-- you’re Metzli, right? It’s me. Bex. But you probably already figured that out. Sorry. I’m much better at talking online.” Held her hand out. “It’s nice to finally meet you for, like, real!”

The prospect of meeting Bex in person was one that Metzli looked forward to greatly. Not only was she going to donate to the gallery, but she was a possible fun friend to get…close to. Needless to say, when Bex walked through the door, the vampire was excited, no, tantalizingly thrilled. “Yes, I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bex.” They took Bex’s hand, their hand firm and extremely cold. Acting on their dated customs, they bowed and laid a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. Their smile was one that could win the hearts of most, and could melt even the coldest of them.

Metzli always wore suits to the gallery, but chose the best ones this week in anticipation of this meeting. Today they sported a blue suit with a plaid pattern, a black tie, and black dress shoes to complete the ensemble. Trying to “put their best foot forward,” if you will. “You’re certainly an energetic one. I like that.” Their smile grew wider, not too wide as to cause alarm, but enough to make the warmth grow. “Welcome to my gallery,” Arms extended as they gestured to the open building. “Would you like anything to drink before I give you the tour? Water, wine?” They asked, adjusting the cuffs of their shirt.

“I keep an assortment of reds, but I have some sparkling whites if you prefer,” Metzli continued, trying to be the best host possible. Though Bex did say she would donate regardless, the vampire had to put on a show.

Bex had eyes, good eye sight at that, and they stuck on Metzli’s form as they approached, on the rather suave suit they were wearing, and she felt her inside begin to vibrate. Maybe this was a bad idea. This could go bad very quickly. Really, all she had to do to solve her problem was tell Metzli she had a girlfriend, but how was she supposed to insert that into casual conversation? And why was it that the words still stuck in her throat? She glanced around the gallery again and found it still empty and wondered how long it would take her mind-- and her body-- to stop sending alarms to run away when confronted publicly with her queerness. But it was just...looking. Nothing would happen. She could look. And so she looked.

“Oh, well, don’t get too excited. Sometimes my energy can be a lot. I don’t shut up half the time and then most of the time I don’t even realize I’m not shutting up or talking too much. It’s really kind of a drag. Blessing and a curse? It’s-- see? I’m kind of already doing it.” She took Metzli’s hand to shut herself up and felt a chill run up her arm, into her spine. They felt like Morgan’s hands, cool, soft, but where Morgan’s grip was always gentle, Metzli’s was firm. The swift kiss to the back of her hand just as cold, despite the warmth now in her cheeks. “I-I’m okay right now! Why don’t we just save the drinking for later?”

Her dress-- a nice dress, but certainly not her nicest-- was a blue number, with a floral pattern and frilly, short sleeves. She liked to dress up nice-- an old habit she didn’t really know how to break-- but now she was wondering if, maybe, a more casual outfit would’ve been a better idea. “So how long have you been doing art? Did you own a gallery before this? Where did you live before this?”

Metzli could always tell when they were being checked out, which was often. Confidence emanated from them as they ogled back, a little more subtly. The way Bex stuttered only made them feel empowered, like they had her right where they wanted her. It was something they enjoyed a lot, maybe too much. “As you wish, cariña.” They replied flirtatiously and motioned for her to follow them.

“Please, follow me. I’ll answer your questions along the way as I lead you through the current showings, and maybe if you want, I can show you…the secret gallery. But that’ll have to wait until the end.” Metzli guided Bex down a hallway that led to a large, open room filled with sculptures and paintings. “In this section, I have a collection of works by local artists. Several of which were donated, and many others purchased right from the artists themselves. And if you look in the back corner, you’ll see my most recent painting.” A large painting of a decaying crow was on display. So far it had received much praise and was one of their favorites as of yet.

“As for your current questions, I’ve been practicing art, painting in particular, for about 90 years. After roaming for a bit once I left my clan, I decided to open my first gallery, this very one. I traveled all the way from Jalisco, Mexico. I resided there until I heard of White Crest. It took a while, but I finally made it here. Word travels far when it comes to special places.”

It was just Metzli being nice, Bex told herself. Obviously that’s all it was. They were just being nice because people could just be nice without any ulterior motive. Bex truly believed that. She really wanted to believe that right now. She could convince herself of that. Why would anyone want to flirt with her anyway? Especially a vampire who owned their own art gallery and had probably seen so much in the world. Someone like Bex wasn’t worth that time or effort. They were just being nice because Bex was donating to their gallery, that was all. Surely that was all.

She followed behind Metzli and stepped into the large room that displayed, as they explained it, the local works. Her gaze traced across all the different pieces on display, mouth slightly agape. She hadn’t known there were so many talented people right here in White Crest, but, really, what did she know about White Crest? Not much. It had been stolen from her. She was drawn towards a sculpture in the middle, of some sort of nightmarish, amorphous creature. Her eyes skated over the piece and she longed to reach out and touch it, but held herself back, looking up again when Metzli pointed out their own work.

“Oh, you painted that one!?” She moved quickly towards it, drawn in by the glowing red eye of the crow. It looked half dead, perhaps decaying, encompassing the canvas, and Bex stared at it in wonder. She’d always wished her hands were disciplined enough to put down onto paper what was in her mind, her dreams. Drawing maps of made-up worlds hardly counted. She glanced back over at Metzli, realizing how close she’d gotten to the painting and stepped away. “It’s beautiful.”

Bex had almost forgotten Metzli’s undead-ness, and balked for only a moment when they announced they’d been at this for ninety years. Her grandmother wasn’t even that old. Hands skated over the ridges of the painting, only touching the air in front of it as if she were a ghost. “What did you do before, then?” Looked back over at Metzli, eyes wide with wonder. “Ninety years is a long time. I can’t even imagine being alive for that long, let alone practicing something for all that time…”

Metzli watched as Bex marveled at their painting. Their skill always did a number on women. It was one of the many benefits of honing it. “Before? Oh, well…I didn’t do much of anything besides what my master commanded. Going into those details is not something I will do, though.” Their arms rested behind their back as they spoke, and their voice took on a more serious tone. Memories of that time flooded their mind, making them squeeze their eyes shut to push them away.

Once their eyes opened again, they slapped a smile on their face and turned to face the other pieces in the gallery. “Thank you for your praise. It’s always a pleasure to see my art taken so well.” Metzli continued walking away, motioning Bex once again to follow them. “Next I’ll show you the works I’ve collected nationwide, and even internationally. The collection is smaller, but still striking.”

They felt a little off. The flashes of memories long past made their facade wane slightly and they used the short walk to collect themselves. Showing the gallery to Bex was supposed to be an easy way to get money and possibly a fun time for the night. It was not supposed to make them feel any sort of way. Especially not sad. Lucky for Metzli, the moment of sorrow quickly passed and they moved on. “Do you have any further questions?”

Bex drew her brows in concern, worried she might’ve said something that upset Metzli. She had never been any good at telling people’s emotions from their faces, but the one thing she could recognize aside from anger-- perhaps even more so than-- was sorrow. It passed briefly over Metzli’s face and Bex turned her gaze away, pretending to have not seen it at all. Sorrow was something felt in solitude. It didn’t need to be looked at the way art was. She shifted her gaze back up when Metzli spoke up again, and Bex moved away from the painting and towards them. “It’s incredible,” she said again, stealing one more glance at it before they exited the room. “You’re incredible.”

As they walked, Bex wondered. She couldn’t help it. Her mind raced away with thoughts all the time, and Metzli’s words were making trails through her mind like a flood. Their master, whatever that meant, had made them do things. Probably things they hadn’t wanted to do, from the sound of it. Bex could understand that. Maybe too closely. Her parents had controlled everything about her life, so much to the point that the freedom she now enjoyed felt wrong. She didn’t know what to do with it. She blinked from her thoughts when Metzli spoke up again and found herself in a new room. “Oh, um-- you mentioned that you do, like, community stuff. Art classes. What kind of classes are they? And how often? Do you do them here? If you need a bigger space, I could probably give you the money for that. And supplies. Really, just, whatever you might need. I think a place like this is worth investing in.” She smiled, gently, sweetly. Her father would’ve called this a waste and her mother would have scolded her, but they weren’t around anymore, and even if Bex didn’t know how to feel about her new found freedom, she wasn't going to waste it.

Bex’s comment didn’t go unheard, but with their ego, they were just going to gloss over it so they wouldn’t blow their cover. “Oh, the art classes are held in these two rooms.” Metzli trotted over to two doors next to each other. “Currently only one is being used for now. I’m setting up the other for sculpture classes. Everything has been purchased out of my own pocket, so it’s taking longer than I’d like. But, the painting classes are held every Tuesday and Thursday. Rookies on Tuesday’s and Novices on Thursday’s. With your donation I’ll be able to hire a sculpting teacher and continue to purchase the supplies necessary.”

The excitement in Metzli’s voice surprised them. Crest Works Art was their pride and joy. It was their dream to use art to heal, only themselves and maybe a few others inadvertently, but that was something for them to know, not anyone else. “I was honestly only expecting a donation of five grand, which is more than enough.” The truth of the matter was that they were lowballing in hopes of getting more. The money would help the gallery but the leftovers would go to them. But the more they discussed the matter, the more they wanted it for the gallery. What the hell was going on?

“Whatever you see best though, is just fine. It would be an honor to take a donation from Miss Not-So-Fragile.” Metzli referenced an earlier message the two shared, clearly turning on their charm again. It was an attempt to get back in the zone, get back to what they were supposed to be doing. Which was not getting lost in pointless emotions.

“Out of your own pocket? Wow, you must really love this place,” Bex sighed, a bit of a dreamy tone to her voice as she did. She reached out and slid her fingers along the cool wall, between two of the paintings. Sometimes, she liked to believe she could feel the energy in the world, she was supposed to be able to, as a spellcaster. When she was outside, she could swear she could hear the thrum of the earth, as energy flowed through it, like invisible rivers. It was in everything. She wished she could feel that all the time, like the moonlight with Sai, and the warmth with Mina. “White Crest is lucky to have you here,” she said again, smiling.

“Oh, only five-thousand?” Bex didn’t really know how much was a good donation amount, but in the end, she’d decided she didn’t really care. If it meant keeping a place like this open and running, she’d give whatever. If she could be the person helping someone achieve their dream, then of course she would help them. She turned away from the wall and headed towards Metzli again, in the middle of the room. She chuckled, hiding her face behind her hand for a moment. “You know you don’t have to keep buttering me up,” she stated, pulling her wallet out, “I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t like you or didn’t want to do this.” Because she had the ability to choose to do that now. No one to tell her how to live her life. “How’s 50k?”

“It’s not buttering up if I’m enjoying it.” The way Bex just didn’t see how Metzli was laying it on super thick with the flirting was astounding. Completely baffled, they chuckled and were going to continue to flirt when Bex gave her offer. 50k? 50k? They were expecting a higher amount than five thousand, but that? “Holy shit,” was all that was muttered in that moment. “A-are you sure?!”

Metzli didn’t mean to be so loud, but the plan had gone well, too well in fact. Sure they were confident, but it never got them something of this magnitude. “Sorry, sorry. Just wasn’t expecting that.” They chuckled out of pure disbelief. Fooling Bex had obviously paid off, but it was much more than that now. Having a donation of that amount meant they could do more than just the few things they mentioned. This could be the breakthrough the gallery needed to be as successful as they had dreamed. Their master, just like Bex’s parents had no hold on her, had no hold on them. Not anymore.

For a moment, the facade fell again, and actual gratitude showed on Metzli’s face. Bowing like before, they took Bex’s hand and pressed another kiss to the back of her hand. This time though, their hold was gentle, maybe even hinging on being soft. “Thank you, Bex.”

That look right there was what Bex cared about the most. Through the astonishment, it was the look of hope that made Bex’s heart soar. She wanted to give people hope. Hope that they could finally have something good. It was like she’d told Bly-- hope was never bad, it couldn’t be, by nature. Bex wanted to truly believe that. She did. It was nice, too, to watch Metzli trip over their words and stutter, instead of her. She was usually so bad at talking, but something about this place had rendered Bex relatively quiet as she observed the space around her. The paintings, the sculptures, the pictures. They were worth investing in, they were worth giving back to. “I’m sure,” she answered, smiling. She scribbled on the check, before tearing one out and handing it to Metzli. “I really hate saying this, but that’s barely even a dent in the wallet. Like I told you, no one needs this much money. I’d give you more if I didn’t think you’d pass out, or the government wouldn’t try and take it all for taxes.”

Bex wasn’t expecting another bow, and she stayed frozen a moment as Metzli leaned down to kiss the back of her hand again. It felt somehow gentler this time. She felt her face flush and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, chuckling nervously. “Y-you don’t have to thank me! Honest. I’m not doing this for the thanks. I just want to give back to the community and the town and-- and people. People who deserve it.” This was just what people did, right? This was just being nice. People had different customs, was all. “I-- I do expect special treatment when I show up to the beginner painting classes, though.”

And just like that, Metzli knew they had done it again. Another successful event that flustered the naive woman. That was what they were trying to twist it into at least. Gratitude filled their cold heart, but they were determined to believe this was all according to their plan to seduce a millionaire. “Special treatment for you? You’ll get that any time, anywhere, cariña.” A flair of their accent came through and they cleared their throat to breeze past it.

Taking the check, they eyed it with amazement before pocketing it into the inside of their suit jacket. “Maybe we can leave the secret gallery for another time. After such a gracious donation, I believe I’d like to celebrate with a drink. What do you say? The Bloody Stake is calling to us.” Metzli’s charm was subtle and had an air about it that made people want to listen, want to do what they said. Or was that just their compelling? No, that wasn’t it, not now. That was for very special occasions. This was just their natural personality.

Metzli just hoped their luck continued into the night. Having a woman like Bex at their disposal would prove to be beneficial. They’d have to monitor how they approached everything. A one night stand may not be in the cards if Bex was as sweet as she appeared to be. Not to mention that could ruin any chance of them reaping the benefits of having Bex on their side.

Bex stared for a long moment, pretending that the word was just a common thing people from Mexico said. It was just like when people called her sweetheart or darling. That was all. The heat in her cheeks was just from her anxiety, she was always anxious, Morgan said she needed medication for her anxiety. So, clearly, it was just that. She heard the tint of Metzli’s accent and wondered why they tried to cover it up, but didn’t want to ask.

“You know, I’m only a little worried about what might be in this secret gallery,” she finally said, clearing her throat, “more so curious, though. But-- you know, drinks sound nice, too. I could do drinks.” Metzli was smooth, Bex had to admit it, but she was still clinging to the idea that this was just two people getting drinks and nothing more. Like they said, they just wanted to celebrate. Bex could get on board with that, and the idea of drowning the stupid thoughts in her head about her mother for just one night was the most compelling part of it all. But there was also just something...compelling about Metzli, that made Bex want to just say yes and follow them and ignore the alarms going off in her head. They were stupid alarms and she wanted to stop listening to them. She was free now, she could do what she wanted.

After a moment, once the check was tucked safely away, Bex curtsied slightly as she motioned towards the door. “Shall we? Is it close enough to walk?”

The crimson on Bex’s cheeks was noticeable on visual alone, but Metzli heard the rush of blood after her heartbeat picked up. With a bright smile, they walked over to a light switch, and turned it off. Upon this action, a blue light was activated, subtly revealing a door. Due to the light from the windows and other fixtures, it was a little hard to see. “The secret gallery is right behind this door. There’s nothing to worry about, though. Many protective measures have been taken so that the cursed works stay put. Maybe after drinks, we can come here and I can show you.”

As instantly as the door appeared, it disappeared just the same with another flick of the switch. “The bar isn’t walking distance, but I have a car that I can drive us in, if you’re comfortable enough. It’s the black Mercedes out front.” Metzli said, using a tone as smooth and sweet as saccharine. Clasping their arms behind their back, they guided Bex back to the front so they could get to their office. “Give me a moment so I can dress down a little.”

Metzli faded into their office for a moment, removing their tie and suit jacket, and unbuttoning their shirt to their sternum. It revealed a portion of their clan tattoo, a custom ankh with three strikes through it. A tattoo they were ashamed of, but figured there was no use hiding it. With a shrug, all the lights were shut off and they exited their office. “Have you decided whether or not you’ll ride with me, Miss Not-So-Fragile?”

Bex felt that insatiable tug of curiosity again when the lights flickered out. Her heartbeat quickened even more as she looked at the door, now illuminated in blue light-- even took a step towards it-- before the lights were turned back on and Metzli was ushering her back towards the front. “Cursed!?” she asked, brows raising. She wanted to see those, she definitely wanted to see those. She wanted to know if they felt like magic, if she could sense the magic infused in them. She wondered what kind of curses they were. She wondered who put them on them. There was so much she wanted to know.

Instead, she stood and waited patiently while Metzli changed, her eyes flicking back and forth between the office door they’d disappeared behind, and the hallway that led to the room with the secret door. She perked back up when Metzli returned and beamed a smile. “Well, considering I didn’t drive here, I think that might be the best idea.” She didn’t need to mention that she couldn’t drive, and a small part of her worried how she might be getting home later, but a bigger part of her just didn’t care. Maybe the walk would be nice. She headed towards the door, motioning towards Metzli, hands clasped together as she leaned back against the door, hearing the little bell chime once again when it opened slightly. She glanced one more time towards where the secret door was. “Ready?”

“Ready indeed,” Metzli said, following Bex out the door, and promptly locking it. The alarm was set and they were good to go. As per usual, they opened the passenger door for Bex. It was another dated custom, but it always did well with the female population. “Your chariot awaits,” They joked, and went on to the driver’s side once Bex was set up.

Metzli never bothered with a seatbelt, there was no point. The only thing that could hurt them right now was that damn sun, but they would be rid of that monstrosity in a matter of minutes. Turning over the engine, they shifted the car into drive, and began the commute to the bar. “We’re not too far by car, so we’ll be there soon.” A smile spread over their lips as they moved their hand towards Bex’s thigh, no, the gear shift actually. With a flick of their wrist, the gears changed and the car sped closer to their destination.

Just like they said, the two arrived quickly and Metzli winced at the exposure to the sun again. “Let’s get in quickly. The sun…stings.” Thanks to the time of day, which was 5pm, the toxic sphere would linger for a few hours more. But soon they’d be greeted with a dark room and the perfect drinks, with a woman they had just taken 50k from. Happily, they gently pressed their hand to the small of Bex’s back and guided her towards the door.

It was just polite, really, for someone to open the door for her, right? Bex slid into the car, just as suave and nice as she thought someone like Metzli might own, and folded her hands into her lap, adjusting the edge of her dress to rest over her thigh. She swallowed. This was fine, it was just someone taking her for a drink, it didn’t have to be anything more than that. She kept telling herself that. She would never do anything to be unfaithful to Mina, she loved Mina, this wasn’t anything like that. After all, all Bex wanted was a friend.

She kept her eyes on the road, barely noticed Metzli’s hand moving towards her, as she tried to keep her mind calm. It kept going back to that secret room, or to the way Metzli looked at her, or to Mina back home, still frightened over the warden. Or to her mom. They were all things she wanted to forget about for tonight. She just wanted one night where she didn’t have to think about anything stressful, anything painful, anything hard. Finally, the car pulled up and Bex felt her body loosen, not even realizing how tense she’d become.

She slipped from the car and adjusted herself again, feeling a shiver run up her back when Metzli’s hand came to rest on it. She shuffled slightly, but didn’t move away, instead moving quickly towards the door and slipping inside. Metzli’s chivalry was a little old-fashioned, but that was what Bex had grown up with. The inside of the bar was dark, and red-- a lot of red. Bex glanced around, as eyes turned on her. They could smell her, she realized, her humanness. Could they smell her magic, too? She looked back at Metzli. “Where uh-- where should we sit?”

The effect Metzli was having on Bex was obvious in every flutter of her heart, and every hitch of breath. She didn’t need to utter a word of her attraction, they already had it confirmed. With eyes on the two, they bent down at the waist to whisper on Bex’s ear. “No one will touch you so long as I’m around. You don’t have to worry, okay?” They attempted to reassure her, knowing she was probably a little nervous. No. It was to show their dominance in the bar. It was an attractive trait. That’s all. “We can sit in a booth in the back corner. I see that it’s free right now, but let’s get drinks first.”

With their hand still in place, they guided Bex to the bar and requested a special red wine for themselves, and then motioned to Bex. “And you? What would you like, cariña?” An elbow propped them up as they leaned on the bar, removing their hand from her back finally. The bartender made Metzli’s drink as they waited for Bex’s request.

It was comforting to know and Bex felt herself relaxing a bit more. She wondered if it was the check in Metzli’s pocket that was providing her sanctuary here, or something else. Not that Bex was scared-- it wasn’t fear of someone trying to hurt her, she’d been attacked by a vampire before, but that woman had been cruel, perhaps feral, and she wasn’t going to let one incident color her views on vampires-- but the attention drawn to her made her anxiety rocket. She wasn’t used to being perceived like this, it made her stomach churn a little. She wished she wasn’t always so self-conscious. Did they know? Could they see? Could they tell?

She shuffled closer to Metzli subconsciously and looked across the bartop towards the bartender. “Uh, vodka cranberry,” she ordered, leaning against the bar. Drummed her fingers on the bartop. This is where Kyle had worked. In fact, the alley behind it was where he’d attacked her, causing the scarring that was probably visible on her chest. She tried not to think about that. “So you come here a lot? I can see why. Totally has that vampy vibe. Do they serve actual blood here?” she asked, curious.

“Yes, they do. That’s what makes my wine special, actually. Makes partying much more fun when the drinks taste divine.” Metzli replied, sipping on their wine. Instantly, their eyes turned red and fangs extended from their canines. “Hope this doesn’t put you off. It feels like taking off a mask when I can do this freely.” They smiled and requested a special shot and a tequila shot for Bex. Gathering the shots and their wine, they pointed with their head and walked towards the booth they mentioned when the two first entered.

Metzli sat across from Bex and carefully placed all the drinks down. “Okay, I got these for us. Don’t drink this one though. You’ll hate it,” A small chuckle escaped their lips as they scooted their shot closer to them. “To art and to new friendship,” They raised their shot, which prompted Bex to clink hers with Metzli’s. Today had been fantastic so far, and they hoped it would only get better. Much better.

“You did say you wanted to get too wasted, right?” Another chuckle escaped right before taking their bloody concoction of inebriation.

“Can you taste normal food? I know a zombie and they say they can’t taste like, normal human food anymore. Is it like that for you?” Bex was blurting the questions before she could help herself, staring perhaps a little too excitedly as fangs formed in their mouth and eyes shimmered red. She remembered how the other woman’s face had looked when Bex had seen her outside the library, eyes glinting through the dark at her before teeth sunk into her neck. She blinked and looked away. “Oh, no! You’re totally fine! I don’t mind at all. I think it’s actually pretty cool,” she said, smiling. If she could trust Milo, she could trust Metzli. She was trying to get over all that, anyway. If she could trust Kyle, she could trust others. And she did, trust Kyle. “Is it, like, painful? To hold it in?”

She already felt more questions bubbling in her throat, but held them back for now, following Metzli back to the booth they’d pointed out earlier. Her eyes fell from Metzli’s face to the drinks and the shot that was handed to her. She had said that, hadn’t she? “To art and friendship.”Lifted her shot glass and clinked it to Metzli’s before downing it in one gulp, wincing only a little. “Tequila always burns more than I remember,” she admitted, chuckling slightly as she bit down into the lime that had come with it.

“Do different blood types taste different?” she asked, watching Metzli partake in their special wine, eyes wide, once again, with curiosity.

“You sure have a lot of questions, don’t you?” Metzli teased with a smile, and continued on to answer everything once the shots were taken. Bex’s face at the shot made them laugh right as they answered. “Can’t really taste normal food. Haven’t been able to since I was…I guess 20? I don’t remember. I really do miss conchas and coffee though. They were my favorite.” Memories of the late night sweet bread and coffee made them smile to themselves. Some memories were just too sweet to not smile at. “As for different blood types, yeah they do taste different. Blood from slayers tastes especially euphoric.”

Even more memories raced through their head, until a particular memory made their face fall. The one and only slayer they had killed themselves wasn’t even a slayer yet. Their master convinced them it was for the betterment of the clan, that it would save countless of vampiric lives. “But I’ve only ever had a few tastes,” Metzli attempted to shake free of the sorrowful hold the memory had on them. It frustrated them that they kept behaving this way.

“Um…are you going to finally tell me what you are? It’s only fair since you know what I am.” Their signature smile wasn’t as strong, but the attempt was there. They just wanted to move on.

“Oh, s-sorry! I can totally stop if it’s making you uncomfortable, I just kinda always do this,” Bex stumbled through the explanation, “I ask a lot of questions. I don’t mean to! I just get-- excited?” She gave a sheepish grin. “I like learning about new things and people and, well, I mean, you’re just such a fascinating person! I’ve met a lot of people here that I think are interesting or amazing, but none like you. I do even know another vampire, but they’re kinda new to it.” She paused, stopped herself from rambling more by picking up her drink and hovering it by her lips as she took a large gulp. That felt better. She needed to stop being so annoying. Fingers wrung together for a moment. “Sorry. I ramble a lot.”

The mention of slayers made Bex stiffen. She didn’t really think about how vampires-- and zombies, in turn-- could hurt hunters in the way the hunters themselves tried to keep them from doing. She swallowed. She wanted to ask more, but that distantly sad look was on Metzli’s face again, so she clenched her jaw shut instead.

When the subject turned on her, she welcomed it, even if it made her heart beat a little faster again. “What? You haven’t guessed yet?” she teased, smiling, hoping to lighten the mood after her slip up. “Obviously I’m some sort of human. A special kind.” A kind she was still learning to love, but her magic didn’t have to be a terrible thing-- that was the lesson she’d finally learned. Her magic could be special, if she let it.

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. You know what?” Metzli groaned, feeling like they were behaving like a vampire with a stupid soul. What they did was nothing. It was in their nature, so what did it matter in the long run? “Rambling is good. At least what you have on your mind will get out. Better that way.” Before continuing, they motioned for the bartender for refills and two more shots. Drinks would help, they were sure of it. “You did nothing wrong. It’s just—and you know, we’re gonna get back to what you are, but—“ They cut themselves off with a sip of their wine.

“Look, I don’t have a soul. And I did that by killing a slayer. But the kid wasn’t a slayer yet. Actually, they weren’t a slayer at all. My master said they were though. Greater good for my clan and all that. My master wanted me to believe that, so I did. I’m not supposed to feel bad, and for a stupid second, I did. What’s a stupid kid’s life matter anyway?” Metzli practically spat the last few words out, sounding like they were trying to convince themselves more than anyone else.

As they always did when they were frustrated, they combed their hand through their hair, making it fluff up a tiny bit more. Metzli was feeling. They were actually feeling. This wasn’t right. “Now I’m rambling. Puta madre.” The drinks came at just the right time and they downed the wine in their hand before reaching for the shot and taking it. “You can leave now if you want. Nice vampire facade over.” For once, they had actually given up and didn’t care about an easy lay or even about the benefits they could reap. What the hell is going on.

Bex was quiet was Metzli explained. She didn’t really know or understand what it meant to not have a soul, or that vampires could get rid of them. Could zombies? Could fae? Could humans? What was a soul, anyway? Was Bex just a soul whenever she left her body? What did a soul give a person, or make a person? She ruffled her brow, tapped her fingers on the side of her glass in thought. “I don’t want to leave,” she finally said, and, really, there’d never been any point in Metzli’s explanation that had made her want to. Maybe that was the wrong response, but like Bex had said several times before, she wanted to give people chances. As many as they needed. And Metzli had done nothing to Bex to indicate that they wanted to hurt her or anything like that. So what reason did Bex have to leave? “None of what you said makes me want to leave.”

She smiled gently, licking her lips as she took another sip. “I don’t, I mean-- that’s a lot. That you just-- told me. And, really, it feels nice to know you trusted me enough to tell me that. And I don’t think any of it makes you, like, a bad person? If-- if someone made you do it, it’s not your fault, you know.” They were words she’d said to MIna, as well. It didn’t matter how many people her father had led her to help kill, that blood wasn’t on Mina’s hands. She had been manipulated by someone who she thought she loved, and she had been a child. None of that was her fault. None of that sounded like Metzli’s fault. “It’s not bad for...believing in something someone you trusted told you to do. If it was, then I guess I’m bad, too, because I spent pretty much my entire life doing whatever my mom wanted me to do, only to find out that she wasn’t even my real mom.”

And then, in a relatively bold and perhaps stupid gesture, Bex leaned forward and reached across the table, putting her hands over Metzli’s on their glass. “People are just people,” she shrugged, “nice and good and bad are circumstantial things.”

Bex’s little speech made Metzli want to rip off their ears and end their misery. It was a load of bullshit. They couldn’t do that though, and so they continued to suffer. Having no soul made them have no empathy and not feel much of anything really. But somehow, someway, Bex made something snap. “You’re crazy, you know that? Having no soul means I have no remorse. I have no empathy. Everything I do is self serving.” They tried to get that point across, more so to see what she would do. The curiosity won over any want to keep her around for the benefits.

“Even knowing that, you don’t wanna run?” It baffled them, but it also amused them. Bex was so naive and innocent. Her touch only further proved that, and fed into the want to do more with her. “Frankly, it does make me a bad person. I do bad things with no remorse. Hypothetically, I could kill you now and it wouldn’t bother me. I’d feel nothing.” Knowing this might incite fear, Metzli rose from their seat and got into her booth. “Does that not scare you, even a little?” Their brow arched in curiosity and their arm swung around the top of the seat, letting a hand rest on Bex’s shoulder.

“Sometimes people aren’t just people. Sometimes, they’re cold monsters.” This was the most honest Metzli had been all night, but were fairly positive it would fly over Bex’s head.

“Empathy is a learned skill,” Bex said, tracing her finger along the rim of her glass. Everything Metzli was describing just sounded like the kind of person her mother was, but her mother had chosen to be that way, even with a soul. She didn’t know what it meant, that Metzli seemed better even without one, but it crinkled her brow and made the anger that was always in the pit of her stomach taste sour. She took another long sip of her drink, ready to feel the buzz. “Even if you can’t feel it, you can still know it and understand it. I think you...want people to think you’re a bad person.” But Bex didn’t believe bad and good were so simple, so easy. Maybe society told Metzli they were bad, but, really, what made them bad? She drummed her fingers on her glass again. The more she drank, the less anxious she got. The more bold. She licked her lips.

“If that’s how you want to live your life, then that’s fine. I don’t really have any room to judge. It doesn’t matter to me, anyway. Not really. So, no,” she stated firmly, her eyes watching as Metzli stood up from the booth, “I don’t want to run.” Even if her legs began to tingle and her heart pounded as Metzli slid into the booth next to her. She turned her face away and took another drink. “If you really wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it right after I handed you that check.” She pointed towards Metzli’s breast pocket, knowing it was in the suit jacket they’d left back in the gallery.

“I don’t think you’d kill me,” she said, “I’m not afraid of you.” She turned to look at Metzli, meeting their eyes. “People choose to be monsters. With or without a soul, it’s still a choice.”

Brows furrowed at Bex’s speech. Not out of annoyance or even anger, but actual understanding. How much Bex had gone through was unknown to Metzli, but it was becoming abundantly clear that the two were more similar than they had initially thought. They didn’t like this. They didn’t like how her words were having an actual effect on them. “Some choices come easier to others. The harder choices. The ones no one wants to make. The—” Words got stuck in their throat. Metzli felt incredibly flustered even with the agitation building. Bex was being the firm and confident one. She had successfully flipped the script right in front of them.

Lost for words, and lost in thought, Metzli’s free hand fell to their sternum lightly grazing their tattoo. “What are you anyway? Besides all this confidence in knowing my character, you’ve got to have some form of power that makes you feel safe, right? You’ve asked all the questions, it’s my turn.” They hoped the attempt to get back on track would work. It felt so off to feel. How on earth was she doing this? Might as well ask.

Metzli waved for another round that was brought swiftly to their booth and they took their shot, scooting the two untaken ones to Bex. “You’ve missed out on two,” they tapped on the drinks, feeling better now that it seemed the conversation was being swayed another direction.

“Sure, yeah,” Bex nodded, “but that’s just life, right? Some of us have to make harder choices. I guess what I believe is...what choice we make is who we are.” And while she’d made the wrong choices at first, she was making the right ones now. She was choosing to fight for herself and her own life, and she was free now. She would always be free. She even felt relatively satisfied when Metzli was lost for words, and she grinned over the rim of her cup. Her eyes followed their hand as it traced along the tattoo on their chest, and after only a moment of staring, Bex realized herself and turned her gaze back to the table and the drinks on it.

“I’m a spellcaster,” she finally answered, reaching out to take one of the two shots that were still calling her name. It warmed her stomach and she licked the lime off her lips. “I sort of just found out recently, but I’m getting better at it. And, to be clear, it’s not that I have magic that I’m not afraid. I just...don’t think of the world in the way other people do, I guess. I’m not afraid to die, if it’s for the sake of learning. My mom used to always say my curiosity was insatiable and that it would ruin me one day,” she breathed in and picked up the last shot. “Probably the only thing she was right about.” She downed the shot and felt her fingers begin to tingle and her head became lighter. She smiled.

“Better?” she asked, scooting the two empty shot glasses toward Metzli.

Bex definitely had a way with words despite how naive she first appeared to be. Hell, she’d somehow moved Metzli a little, and completely baffled them. “You’re not afraid to die? I guess you and I have that in common. Most of the time I just think existence is pointless. Some parts are fun, but most are so mundane or…painful,” The last word came out a little strained, like it hurt to say it. Quickly though, they glossed over it and teased Bex. “You staring at my chest? Perv.” It was a lousy effort, and she could probably see right through it. But probably not too. Metzli wasn’t sure anymore and it could honestly go either way at this point.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that?” With widened eyes, they watched as she took her shots and caressed her shoulder with the hand that draped over the top of the booth. “Spellcaster, huh? That’s impressive. Sucks that most magic is useless against me though. But you did say you’re not scared, right?” More teasing. But now, they wanted to prod more. See if she felt anything other than compassion for the vampire.

With their compelling in full effect, they locked eyes with Bex and continued to speak. “Tell me though, are you as gay as you give off? ‘Cause my gaydar has been going off from the moment we spoke online.” They figured they might as well see if she’s even interested before they move on to more interesting questions.

“Not really, no. I-- don’t want to die, of course. I have people who would mourn and be hurt if I died, but I don’t think I’m afraid to. It’s just a part of life, right?” Bex explained, still unsure herself what it truly meant or why she felt that way. There were so many other things to worry and wonder about in life, death didn’t seem like something she needed to fear. Maybe that was the problem with it all, but she couldn’t bring herself to. If she died right here, right now, then that was simply it for her. There was probably nothing after. She’d probably never know. It wouldn’t hurt her. She didn’t fear her own death, she feared other people’s death. She feared loss. She swallowed, barely aware of the hand on her shoulder through the haze of alcohol now in her stomach. Cheeks tinged and she shook her head. “No! No, I-- I was just-- your hand--” she stuttered out, hiding the blush behind her cup again, subconsciously leaning over the table.

She opened her mouth to say something more about her magic, but those weren’t the words that came out. Instead, she said, “I’m gay. Very gay. I just sort of recently came out, it wasn’t safe before, but it is now. Sort of. Mostly. I think? It’s-- complicated. Because I’m also trans and not everyone is, um-- okay with that, even in the queer community.” She swallowed back the rest of the words. Why had she said all that? She did seem to have looser lips the more she drank. Still, she took another drink. “Do I really give off that much gay vibes?”

Metzli could relate to that, too much even. Their master frowned upon their sexuality, and even forced them to keep their hair long. Finding their identity didn’t come until after they left their clan. That was a freedom that only they could attain by escaping. “Well, you’re very much safe now. And you’re a beautiful woman. Anyone in the queer community that isn’t okay with that is not truly a part of the community.” Every word was honest, and even had hints of sympathy to them. Being who you are can come with a cost, and it looked like Bex had paid that in more ways than one.

“Your gay vibes are off the charts, but that isn’t a bad thing. Not to me at least.” A charming smile was strewn on their face and they gently laid their hand atop hers. If it was out of actual sympathy to comfort or to continue to flirt, they weren’t sure. Not anymore. They wanted to believe it was the latter, so that’s how they approached it, still compelling. “Tell me though, is it just me, or have you actually wanted me to be this close all night? To maybe even kiss you? And if so, just do what you’ve wanted to.” Metzli continued, thinking out loud this time. “I find you attractive, very much so, and you find me attractive too, so why hold it off?” It was rather bold, but now was as good a time as any. Especially with the buzz they had going now.

Bex felt her cheeks growing more flushed at the compliment. She couldn’t ignore it anymore-- Metzli was coming onto her. Suddenly, her heartbeat picked up and her fingers tingled and the alcohol mixed in with her nerves and she felt exposed, in this corner, in this booth. The idea that people could look at her and know, sense it, that she was queer, frightened her. It shouldn’t have. She wanted to be brave. She’d told Mina she could be brave, that she wanted people to know. But not like this, not like this. Still, something compelled her to stay seated as she looked over at Metzli. “I-- I’m glad it’s not a bad thing. Not that I thought you would think that! But, y-you know. It’s-- a lot. Being visible. Knowing that people know.” Especially when she’d tried so hard to hide it. She didn’t have to hide it anymore. She was free. She let out a long breath.

Her body stiffened again at the words. A hand over top hers on the table. Her mind raced, every thought landing on Mina. Still, she said, “I have. You’re very attractive and maybe I did want you to, a l-little.” The words tumbled from her mouth and she felt sick saying them. She didn’t know what to do anymore. “I have a girlfriend!” she squeaked finally. “So I shouldn’t want any of that and I don’t know why I said that and I-- I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing, but she was. She pulled her hand away and clasped them together. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Metzli wouldn’t simply like her for her. Why would anyone?

Bex rambled some more, and it overwhelmed Metzli this time. The feeling of victory didn’t last long as they saw how all of their actions had actually affected Bex. Fuck. What in the fuck was happening. Did that actually care? No. Yes. No. They saw themselves in her. That’s why they cared. “Girlfriend?” The next few words were important. Especially if they wanted to keep her around. Why did they want to? “Should’ve known a woman like you would be taken. Sorry for the advances.” Moving back to the other side of the booth, they gave Bex space.

“You’re a good person. One of the only truly good people.” Their words were trembled and unsteady. Was this disappointment from feeling like they lost, or because they actually began to genuinely like her? There were way too many questions. None of which had answers. Not answers that came easy, or that Metzli would like. “I should go, shouldn’t I? Don’t mistake this for anything but…but embarrassment, okay? I’m not being nice here. I have no soul, I feel no remorse. Got it?”

“I-- no, it-- it’s okay.” Bex wasn’t sure if that was true, but the disappointment was palpable. She bit her lip and held on tight to her drink, wondering if it might shatter under her grip. She knew how to make it shatter if she wanted to, she was getting good at that. She looked across the table at Metzli. “You didn’t-- you didn’t know. I should’ve just said something earlier. I’m sorry, I just--” but she stopped talking, because she didn’t actually know why she hadn’t said anything earlier. Fear? Anxiety? Or something else? Maybe she’d like it, the attention. She shouldn’t have. She really shouldn’t have. But she had and it tinged her cheeks and she looked down at her lap. “I’m trying to be better, but I’m not really comfortable being so out yet.”

Then Metzli said that thing that so many other people had said to her-- that she was good, maybe too good, truly good-- and Bex let out a long huff of air. “I’m not,” she mumbled, and this was proof, wasn’t it? Because she didn’t want Metzli to leave. She liked them. She wished they’d liked her, too, in a ‘let’s just get drinks’ way. Why did it always have to end this way? Bex wasn’t used to this happening with people who weren’t guys. But Metzli was like her, they understood a side of the world that most people couldn’t. Not even Mina. She met their eyes as they began to stand from the booth.

“I don’t believe that,” she said to them, but it was quiet, and she wasn’t looking at them anymore. “But I can pretend to if that’s what you want.” She swallowed. “And this doesn’t-- change anything. Not for me.” She downed the rest of her drink and pulled out her phone. “Do something good with that money, okay? I like your gallery, I think you deserve the chance.”

The disappointment in Bex’s voice was evident, and again, somehow she tugged at whatever humanity was left in them. “How do you do that?!” Their tone was frustrated but not inherently angry. Usually once Metzli had gotten such sensitive information, they could use it to their advantage. But this information was sensitive in a way that meant something to them too. Both of them were two different results of the same tragedy. And even though tragedy came in different ways, it hurt the same.

“Stop being so…fucking similar! I—I keep seeing the similarities and I just want to actually…whatever!” Metzli wasn’t yelling, but they were whispering loudly in frustration. Sitting back down, they locked eyes with Bex and sighed. “I’m…I’m sorry.” It was a sincere apology. If anyone deserved one, it was Bex. “I think I’m still gonna go, but I want to make it clear that I guess—I guess I want to be friends. No more flirting either.”

Bex was surprised by the sudden outburst, and while it wasn’t loud or angry, she still startled, sitting up straighter. Metzli was grumbling things at her, about her, something about being similar, but Bex had a hard time concentrating through the haze in her head. The shots were hitting her quickly. She needed to be careful about this, or she’d say something she regretted. Like, ‘Don’t go!’ or ‘I don’t mind the flirting’. Because she did and she should, but alcohol made things like that seem okay. Seem better. She blinked, nodded. “Sorry,” she said again, the word a bit slurred. “I do really like you. I want you to be my friend, too.”

There was a genuine surprise at the apology, though, and Bex couldn’t help but smile. It seemed like she was right. Metzli could blab all day about how they had no soul and didn’t feel remorse or guilt, but here they were, apologizing for making advances on her, for possibly ruining something. Not that it would have. “We can be friends,” she agreed. That was what she wanted most, anyway. “You can go, if you want, though. I’ll be okay.” She tapped her fingers on the table, little sparks of magic dancing on her fingertips. The other vampires in here didn’t scare her. The tequila shots had emboldened her, drawing a lazy smile on her face. “No one touches me anymore unless I want them to.”

If Metzli had a heart, it would probably jump a little, but luckily they didn’t. “Ah, fuck. Look, I’ll take you home. You’re drunk, and I—I guess I would feel a little…a little bad if anything even remotely happened. Lurking in the dark is my job. But this doesn’t mean I feel shit. Okay?” They extended their hand, hoping she’d take their offer. There would be no funny business either. She’d get home safely and that would be the end of it.

“You can also visit another time for the secret gallery. Promise.”

Bex took Metzli’s hand. She trusted them, and maybe that would bite her in the ass, but Bex truly believed that they were a good person, at least by her definition. Maybe other people thought they weren’t, but Bex didn’t care about that. As she was becoming a part of this world, she was figuring out for herself what everything meant to her. There were too many different things about, human morality, human values could be applied to much of it. And even if Bex was human, she wanted to understand. She wanted to know. She would let her curiosity guide her to her death. She took Metzli’s hand and stood up, wobbly.

“Well, you did make me take 3 tequila shots in rapid succession,” she slurred, smiling. She prodded Metzli’s shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that promise,” was all she said, before she headed for the exit. No one else had to know about this, she decided. This could just be hers.

#wickedswriting #tw child death #tw parental death #tw domestic abuse #tw homophobia and transphobia #tw vampire compelling #bex

6 notes · View notes

buckyscrystalqueen · 4 years

Text

Ain’t Sayin’ She’s a Gold Digger: Part 1

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Negan x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: Sugar baby relationship, swearing

Word Count: 2,298

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

Livid didn’t even begin to describe your mood as you walked out of the upscale bar you worked at for the past three years until 30 seconds prior. And the reason you were fired was absolute bullshit. You had been called in on your day off to cover someones shift, only to be told that it was your shift that you were a no call no show for, that was scheduled last minute, and that you weren’t told about by the manager that had scheduled you, who had been out to get you since your very first shift. You growled and headed toward the subway as you pulled out your cell to call your best friend slash landlord slash roommate to vent.

“Dana Gold, can…”

“That fucking bitch fired me!” You interrupted with a screech. “How the fuck is she gunna call me in on my day off and tell me she fucking scheduled me…”

“(Y/N)!” She said a little loudly, making you stop your rant before you even got into it. “Can I call you back? I’m with a client, and you are on speaker.”

“Oh, shit.” You gasped as you stopped at the corner to wait for the light to change. “Sorry.”

“I’ll call you back.” She repeated before she simply hung up the phone on you. You shook your head and crossed the road with the other busy, impatient New Yorkers and wide eyed, lost tourists, and headed down the stairs to the subway. You got in a short line behind a woman with an Hermes bag you envied that was worth at least five times your rent, when your phone started ringing in your hand.

“Well that was quick.” You said as you pulled out your metro card.

“Come down to my office.” Dana nearly demanded just as you swiped your card for the train headed up toward the Upper West Side. “Let’s… have lunch.”

“You really had to decide that shit after I swipe my metro card, brat?” You asked as you turned away from the platform and headed toward the exit since her office was only a few blocks away from your old job.

“I’ll pay you for the swipe.” She dismissed. “Just get here, I’m hungry.”

“Bitch, I’m coming.” You laughed as you headed up the stairs and hung up your phone. You moved a little quicker through the throngs of people, briefly wondering why you were still living in New York like you did everyday. It was a one hundred and eighty degree difference from your small home towns, and it had once offered you so much promise in life, but it also chewed you up and spit you out like it did most people who had dreams of grandeur. But you had learned that that was the nature of the beast that was New York City.

“Good afternoon, Ms. (Y/L/N).” Jackie, Dana’s assistant said with a smile as you stepped out of the elevator in front of her desk in the decent sized, and adorably decorated office in Midtown. “Ms. Gold said to send you right in.”

“Thanks Jackie.” You said with a smile as you grabbed a Hershey’s kiss out of the heart shaped bowl on your way past. “Yo, can I sue this bitch?” You asked as you walked through Dana’s office door, only to stop the slightest bit when you saw an older gentleman in one of the two chairs in front of her desk. “Oh. Wait, Jackie said to come in…?”

“Have a seat, (Y/N).” Your friend said with a smile as she gestured to the other chair.

“I take it we’re not doing lunch.” You breathed as you loosened the white tie of your otherwise all black uniform.

“This is Mr. Morgan.” She continued with a smile as she gestured to the man sitting beside you. “He’s come in a few times the past couple weeks to look for someone to accompany him on a cruise overseas next week for two weeks or so. But none of my girls have been up to his standards…”

“I’m looking for someone that can hold a polite conversation, and who can be a respectable in formal settings.” He chimed in as he searched your eyes. “But isn’t afraid to speak their mind at the same time. Most of the girls I’ve met though Dana are all…”

“Boring.” You finished for him with a smirk as you crossed your legs and sat back in your chair. “Conceited, self involved, gold diggers that will say anything they think you want them to so that they can keep themselves in your good graces, and occasionally suck your dick so you open your bank account as far as possible.” Mr. Morgan smirked and looked over at Dana with a small nod.

“I like her.”

“She’s a real peach alright.”

“I try.” You said with a shrug.

“Dana says you’ve never been a Sugar Baby before?”

“Never had an interest to.” You told him with a shrug as he finally sat back in his seat, and let himself get comfortable. “I mean don’t get me wrong, if this is your cup of tea, then power to you. I hope you have fun with whomever you pick. But I don’t think I have the temperament to be one.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I managed to get myself thrown out of fucking Juilliard.” You laughed with a shake of your head. “For… well I was technically drinking underage in Central Park on the weekend with some people I worked with at a catering gig I had at the time and almost got busted by the cops for being way to fucking drunk in public. But the asshole didn’t know I ran track in high school so I got away before I could get arrested. But my roommate ratted me out, so I broke her lucky violin bow before her showcase because she was a bitch, and cussed out the disciplinary committee for being mentally incapable of understanding that at twenty years old, I have the God given right to party like a mother fucking rockstar. ”

“I’ll take her.”

“Oh, I’m for sale now.” You teased as he pulled out his wallet from his inside jacket pocket.

“I’m offering an all expenses paid two week long cruise to England, Scotland, and Ireland, and possibly a continuation of the trip overseas after that, depending on how we get along and how my business venture goes plus five thousand dollars cash per week you are with me. After that, we can reconvene and discuss something long term…”

“Wait, you’re actually serious right now?” You asked as you looked at the actual metal credit card he was holding out for you. “You wanna hire me, someone you don’t even know, to go with you for two weeks, possibly more in a foreign country.”

“I want to gift you two weeks in Europe, yes.” He said with a nod, which made you reach out and take his credit card so he wasn’t holding it out anymore.

“Mr. Morgan…”

“It’s Jeffrey.” He interrupted as he put his wallet back and sat back in his chair. “Or Jeff. I’m not picky. And I’ve gotten enough information from Ms. Gold to know that you will be a breath of fresh air that I need in my life right now. I also trust her enough through years of working with her that I know she won’t steer me the wrong way. Her girls are great for dates when I’m bored. But you are someone that I think would be much more entertaining to be around for two weeks.”

“OK.” You said as you looked over at Dana, who had been trying to get you to join her ranks for years because you weren’t a typical Sugar Baby. “Are you sure about this?” You asked once more as you looked at Jeff again.

“I wouldn’t still be sitting here still if I wasn’t.” With a small nod, you sighed and looked at the credit card in your hand.

“Alright. So what’s this for?”

“A new wardrobe and the necessary luggage.” He said as he pulled out his sunglasses and stood up to leave. “Prepare for a month at least. Salon, jewelry, manicure, pedicure, lingerie, makeup… There’s no spending limit on that card…”

“I’ll go with her personally.” Dana said with a smile as she got to her feet and walked around her desk to shake Jeff’s hand. “And I’ll get her personal information to your assistant by end of day today so she can arrange transport and the fine tuning details, Mr. Morgan.”

“Ms. Gold.” He said back with a slight bow of his head. “Pleasure as always. And I look forward to spending time with you, (Y/N).”

“You’re not alone there, darlin.”

——

“OK, how is this even real?” You asked as you stood with your back to Dana so she could zip up the hundredth dress you had tried on that day.

“Are you even listening to me?” She laughed as she did the tiny snap at the top and took a step back.

“Yes, be on my best behavior. I get it.” You said as you looked at the fitted, knee length, mermaid style, purple floral Dolce and Gabbana dress in the mirror. “Shit, this thing could pay my rent for three months and then some.”

“I know.” She laughed as she looked at the dress that looked absolutely perfect on you and nodded her head. “But you need to keep your feet on the ground for me here.”

“OK, feet are on the ground.” You sighed as you turned away from the mirror to look at her. “So you were saying… his wife left?”

“Yes, his wife left him for a younger man about five or six years ago.” You nodded your head and turned around to point at the zipper as she continued to tell you her client’s back story, and continue to teach you how to be a proper sugar baby. “So he’s looking for complete and total honesty and exclusivity. Which is a general consensus in the business. But the difference with Mr. Morgan is he’s…” She looked up at you in the mirror as you stepped out of that dress and into a floor length jungle print dress that you had fallen in love with in Vogue and just had to try on. “OK, I’m just gunna say it. He’s looking to find someone to date without dating them.”

“OK, what does that even mean?”

“It means that he’s looking for someone to spend the rest of his life with.” She sighed as she turned you around to face her. “He’s wanted me to find someone that he can get along with, that he eventually wants to put up in a place, and be with most nights out of the week. But there’s a catch…”

“Ooook…” You said nervously as you started to nervously fidget with the material of the dress.

“Mr. Morgan owns the Norwegian, the Oceania, and the Regent Seven Seas cruise lines, and a large handful of hotels around the world. He’s constantly traveling, which is why he came to me to find companionship. It started as just dates but the last few months, it’s been turning more toward long term. He wants someone permanent…”

“Ok, wait, Dana.” You said as you started to catch up to what she was saying. “Wait, hold on.”

“I know.”

“Dana… wait, are you like kicking me out? Hold on, wait I’m so confused.”

“OK, no. It’s not like that.” She said as she took a step toward you and gently grabbed your wrists. “Look, I love you with all my heart. I love being your best friend, and I love having you as my roommate. I’m not mad at you and I’m not trying to break our friendship up. But I am trying to tell you you need to get out there and enjoy life. Because we both know you complain all the damn time about being lonely and not getting to do anything fun because your always so broke. Sweetie, you can’t go living life playing piano at piano bars for tips for the rest of your life, and working at the God awful bar that I am actually grateful you got fired from. And I’ve had you on my mind for months every time Jeffrey came in because every time he’s described his perfect date, it’s always been like he was describing you.”

“Which is why you’ve been bringing up me being a Sugar Baby more often than you normally do.” She nodded her head and smiled softly as she reached up and shifted the shoulder strap the slightest bit.

“And that’s why today was perfectly timed. I know you’ll like him as a person.” She wrapped up as she searched your eyes. “And I know that out of everyone I know that I could set him up with, you would appreciate him as a person, and not just as a Sugar Daddy. And I think both of you deserve that.” You sighed loudly which turned into a groan as you looked up at the ceiling in your dressing room.

“I hate you.” You grumbled with a smile as you looked down your nose at her. “And you better not put your nasty ass quinoa salad on my fridge shelf when I’m gone.”

“Listen here, it’s my damn apartment.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” You barked through a laugh as you took off the jungle animal print dress and added it to the ‘yes’ pile so you could get dressed to go to the next store. “I pay good money for that shelf.”

“And I pay good money for that quinoa.”

Part 2

#Negan x reader #Ain't Sayin' She's a Gold Digger #Negan's thirst squad #Negan thirst squad #Sugar Daddy Negan #Sugar Daddy Negan x Sugar Baby Reader

98 notes · View notes

pinkplantmakesstuff · 3 years

Text

Yeets some of my google image refs for basic Rococo Fashion here! (Literally this is minimal research just first couple of stuff off google, my more indepth clothing research I’m too lazy to dig up and post lmao)

So Pépin’s fashion is based on lots of different time periods and regions in England/Europe (Ranging from medieval through to Victorian), but atm I’m drawing him in Rococo style garments or taking influences from them!

He wears breeches and stockings a lot, (He finds them more comfortable). And lots of heavily embroidered and detailed pieces. He wears both a mixture of female and male clothing, but normally always has breeches on!

He has a lot of frills on his garments, a lot like dresses from the period, and lots and lots layers. His clothes cost a LOT because they aren’t exactly mass produced or anything! He also wears corsets a fair amount (Not like, ridiculously cartoonishly tight) (One - he’s been required to wear one since a sapling just because) but mainly because he loves how they look, the feeling of it nice and snug, and the slight enhance to his already slightly curved shape!

Also as if it wasn’t obvious from him being a sylvari, his clothes feature a lot of floral decorations! (And bows and lace too!)

I’m currently making a big selection of “fashion poses” of Pép to draw on, so I can sketch out multiple outfits and clothing, but atm rococo fashion lives rent free in my mind and if your ever in doubt of what he’d be wearing at a ball - some soft of feminine yet male rococo outfit is the default (Atm anyway XD)

#pepin #matt rambles #sorry this is random #i just thought it would be fun to share some of my basic references I have!

6 notes · View notes

xxrainbow-princessxx · 4 years

Text

Hidden Agenda (Beckett Harrington x Amelia Russell, Leo x Isabella N*FW, 🍋)

This fic is for Day 4 of the CFWC Kinktober Challenge

Day 4: Massage | Voyeurism | Worshipping

The words used in bold are included in this fanfic. Please only read if you are comfortable with the subject matter and also you are 18+. PSA completed.

TW: In this fic we will be discussing Voyeurism. I apologise now 😂

Tagging: @drakewalkerfantasy @itslaniquelove @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @lorirwritesfanfic @lorircreates @hopefulmoonobject @rafasgirl23415 @texaskitten30 @rainbowsinthestorm @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @choicesficwriterscreations

Penderghast’s end of term summer ball was only around the corner and Beckett was still having a hard time adjusting to Katrina being a professor at the college. He kept his distance with her as much as possible but Katrina had a bit of a trick up her sleeve, “Beckett...” she called out to him, “Can I speak with you for a moment?” as he stood alongside the Pend Pals. Clutching onto his books just a little more tightly than normal, Griffin, Shreya, Zeph and Amelia leave him be to catch up with her. “Hi...” Katrina smiled warmly, “I hope today is going pretty well?” Beckett slowly raised his brow wondering what the hell was his sister babbling about, “I have a little present for you...” she handed him an wax sealed envelope, “I spoke with a former school friend of mine when I completed my MBA at Harvard... I know you are worried about dancing at the end of year ball and she has offered to help both you and Amelia with a few pointers...” Beckett looked down at the envelope, the embossed writing, the paper quality before turning it around and noticing the pattern of the seal. Katrina couldn’t contain her glee, “I heard Amelia talking about how she would love to be waltzed in one of my classes recently, so I reached out to one of my dearest unattuned friends who could help... everything you need is in there and she’s offered to do it this weekend...” Beckett began to tap the envelope, a small smile started to form across his face, “Thank you Katrina...” he quipped, “Amelia always does say she misses unattuned television, predominantly Dancing with the Stars, whatever the hell that means but thank you...”

Beckett waited until Katrina had left, ripping open the envelope that contained all the information he would need to know, his jaw lowered as he unfolded the paper, his steel grey eyes immediately widened when they locked onto the letterhead before stuffing it into his pocket. Katrina always had quite upstanding and well to do friends, but not to this caliber. “Hey cutie!” Amelia sneaked up behind him, kissing his cheek. Beckett still wasn’t used to her attention, the tips of his ears turned pink as he tried so hard not to smile, “Amelia...” he cooed, “I hope you don’t have plans this weekend...” she did. She planned to binge watch as many Friends episodes as humanly possible. “Why’s that...” Amelia questioned him, hoping that he didn’t want to have another date in the library. “Well...” he cleared his throat, “I have a little surprise for you... but only if you’re up for it... but it does mean we need to leave Penderghast for a few days and go back into the unattuned world...” it had been so long since Mia had been ‘home’ so to speak and without questioning anything further she threw her arms around him, giving Beckett a tight squeeze, “Yes... of course! But...” she looked at him puzzled, “Where are we going?” Beckett began to smirk as he reached into his blazer jacket removing the folded document, “Does any of this make sense to you?” Amelia’s glistening hazel green eyes widened as she looked at the page and then back to her boyfriend, “You know who this is?!” She tapped the page with her long nails, “How?! They are Royalty! And we?!” Beckett could only chuckle as Mia became so excited, “Yes... well we have been invited to visit, I really hope you like it...”

Walking around the Laurentian Royal estate, Amelia felt like she was in a fairytale, they both were waited on hand and foot until the Queen and King arrived back from their visit to Cordonia. The sun shine brightly down above them as they were escorted into the Palace and into the boutique to allow Amelia and Beckett to change into more suitable attire for her actual surprise. Beckett immediately blushed as he saw Mia return standing in front him in a crimson red fitted gown, “You look...” he swallowed hard, “beautiful...” Beckett was dressed in one of the finest navy Italian cut suits he had ever worn, the slim fit emphasised his broad, strong frame. “You don’t look too bad yourself Harrington...” Mia winked. Beckett bowed towards her, holding his arm out, “Shall we?” Following Javier, Isabella’s Head of the Royal Guard, he brought them to a hidden dance studio kept within the Palace. There were two conjoining rooms, side by side. The hallway was eerily quiet but as soon as Javier opened the door, the music began to seep into the corridor. He jutted his head to the left, indicating for them to move forward and standing in the room was the petite Queen smiling kindly towards them, “Amelia and Beckett... it’s so nice to finally meet you...” embracing them both warmly, “I can only apologise for our lateness... my husband... he can be a little reckless when it comes to our set schedule... but I believe...” her bright white smile calmed both Beckett and Amelia, who were in awe of her presence “...We are here to learn how to do a waltz...”

Mia’s eyes lit up as Beckett grinned, “Surprise...” he cooed as Isabella quickly separated them, teaching Mia and Beckett their associated steps. “Just remember to keep into that box formation and Beckett... you need to bend your knee, your rhythm is like a wave... bend the knee and slightly raise onto your toes...” Isabella’s dark chocolate brown eyes locked onto every detail, watching how they moved with one another. She folded her arms, tapping her finger along her lip noting the corrections mentally. “Ok...” she cooed in her thick accent, “Beckett...” she reached out to him, taking his hands into hers, “Posture...” she quipped, “and you need to hold onto your partner, not treating them like fine china...” putting his hand on her waist, “Better...” she grinned, “One and two... and three...” Mia’s eyes widened as the door opened behind the petite Queen and Beckett. The 6’3” King of Laurentia walked into the room in full military regalia. He raised his brow and commandingly spoke, “You look a little too comfortable holding my wife like that...” Beckett immediately froze, looking to his left towards the door at the devilishly handsome, well built, muscular King. He began to blush as Leo chuckle walking towards them, “But you have no better teacher...” Beckett stepped back immediately feeling rather intimidated. Leo set his mobile phone down beside the speaker before changing the music to something a little more fast paced. “May I cut in?” The blonde Cordonian grinned as he held out his hand to his petite wife.

Their bodies pressed against each other closely and with each intricate turn and spin, Isabella’s tea length floral dress spun along with her, both her and Leo looked so at ease with one another; it was flawless. Beckett was taken aback at how intense their expressions were to one another and whispering little nothings into each other’s ear, even when they came to a stop. Leo turned to their guests with a dazzling grin, “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow my wife momentarily?” Isabella smiled as Leo put his arm around her waist, “Beckett and Amelia... please practice before I get back. I shouldn’t be long, we’ll only be next door if you need something...” Isabella and Leo disappeared off, “Oh my God...” Amelia squealed, “That was amazing!!” but were interrupted by Leo’s phone calling, vibrating on the desk. Both of them stared as it stopped, but immediately rang again as they put the music back on. “Maybe I should...” Beckett picked up the phone, it was a picture of the Cordonian King flashing up, “I’ll bring it next door, it might be an emergency...” Amelia nodded quietly as Beckett confidently walked towards the second room. His eyes widened as he found the King and Queen in a risqué moment. Isabella was propped up on the barré attached to the side of the wall, her tea length halter neck dress was pulled up around her waist as the King was on his knees with his mouth lapping against her core. Beckett couldn’t help himself as Isabella grabbed Leo’s sandy blonde hair tightly with her eyes shut, quietly moaning “uh huh... that’s it... keep going...”. Beckett mumbled a quiet incantation making himself invisible. He stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him as Isabella and Leo unknowingly continued.

Beckett could feel his length straining against the suit trousers he was wearing as Leo untied Isabella’s halter neck tie, exposing her breasts. “Mmm” the Laurentian King groaned sucking on her ample heaving breasts, “You’re fucking irresistible kitten...” Ripping at the buttons of his double breasted military coat, Isabella squealed with a mischievous grin as her hands caressed Leo’s muscular torso. Beckett crept up, sliding the phone into Leo’s pocket but listening to the young twenty eight year old Queen’s breath hitching, Beckett couldn’t contain himself. When he held her waist moments before, he could smell her wild jasmine and bluebell perfume filling his sense. With his eyes closed and the Royal pairing otherwise engaged, Beckett unzipped his trousers and began to stroke himself as he watched the Laurentian Queen moan and quiver in her husbands arms. Biting down on his lip, he tried so hard not to cry out, gripping his cock harder. He sucked in his breath as Leo’s phone began to vibrate again inside his pocket, stepping away quickly so Leo wouldn’t notice. “Do you have to answer it?” Isabella pouted as Leo quickly checked. Rolling his eyes he saw he had four missed calls from Liam and again, Liam was calling. Leo answered as he slowed his thrusting much to Isabella’s annoyance, but have Beckett a chance to see how hung the Laurentian King was. His jaw dropped as he watched Leo’s hard, thick uncut cock slide in and out of the Queen. He didn’t know who’s one more jealous of at that moment in time. “Liam... can this wait? I’m a little busy right now...” Isabella rolled her eyes unimpressed as Leo continued, “What do you mean how am I busy?” Leo shook his head in disbelief, “I’m kinda balls deep in my wife here trying to make a baby... so you tell me if that’s not me being busy or?...” Isabella pouted as she reached for the phone, taking it from Leo she hung up on Liam and threw it onto the floor, “Oops...” she innocently giggled, putting her arms around the newly crowned King, “Now fuck me like you mean it...”

Leo wasted no time, thrusting as hard as he could, Isabella’s head kept kitting off of the concrete wall but she was too enthralled to care. Beckett couldn’t hold back any longer, he had to cum. With the quietest groan, he came into the closet thing he could find, a waste paper bin. As Isabella dug her nails into Leo’s back, her eyebrow rose slightly thinking she saw a flicker in the background but it disappeared nearly immediately when she blinked. Beckett pulled up his suit trousers and quietly sneaked out as the King and Queen groaned loudly as they came together in sync. Walking back to the other room, Beckett mumbled his way back to a viewable form, his face and ears were a blush pink returning to see Mia, standing there with her arms folded, “Where did you go to?!” She huffed, “We’re meant to be practicing...” Beckett nodded as he quietly took her hand swaying back and forth, “Wow...” Mia gasped, “How did you get a whole lot better in twenty minutes... you better not have cast any magic?” Forcing a smile, the young Harrington laughed it off, “No... nothing like that at all, maybe I just needed some time to reflect... Amelia...” Beckett sighed, “I...” his trail of thought disturbed as Isabella and Leo returned as if nothing ever happened, “Mi amor...” Isabella cooed, “Mira... so much better!” Beckett couldn’t look Isabella or Leo in the eye knowing what he had just done. He found himself sexually attracted to them both; he still couldn’t believe his luck that he walked in on them but if he could do it again, he would

#choices #beckett harrington x mc #leo x isabella #🍋#n*fw text #the royal romance #prince leo #playchoices #choices fanfiction #choices the royal romance #the elementalists fanfic #royal romance au #playchoices fanfiction

20 notes · View notes

des-dabbles · 4 years

Note

For Tuki and Adi: 1, 18, 22 & 28 Thank you!

1. What are things they both find funny?

Oh man... it would have to be something so completely random and unexpected. Tuki has a much darker humor while Adi will giggle over dad jokes.

18. What would be their love motto?

To believe in their love.

They’re both guilty of getting wrapped up in their heads, of listening to others negative perceptions, and not putting 100% behind what they know to be true. So for them, they just need to believe in their love for each other.

22. If their lives were what was originally intended at birth, would they have still fallen in love?

Yes?! I answer as I question myself. I mean... their story is average, for lack of better words. They’re a couple of kids whose parents are friends. Neither had lofty expectations for their future that would have torn them apart. So yes, they would have always fallen in love.

Ask your own OTP question here.

Last question under the cut for spiciness, though truthfully more due to length.

28. Write a ~300 fantasy one of them has about the other.

It was a simple white box, tied up with a navy blue ribbon. With a gentle tug, the bow came loose and he was able to open the lid. Nestled on top of the crisp white tissue paper was a little card. Printed on it were three words.

Put this on.

No other instructions were given. His hand shook slightly as he pulled the paper out, unsure just what he would see. A shaky laugh fell from his lips as he realized it was a simple piece of folded cloth. Reaching in, he pulled it out, letting it unfold itself. It was silky to the touch, but thick enough to fulfill its purpose.

Taking a second, he lifted the sash to his nose. A calm settled over him as he was engulfed in the soothing scents he was so familiar with. It was Sulani, the deep tropical scent of ocean breeze and tangy floral buds, but also something more. Something unique to his merman.

Letting out the tightly held breath, he tied the sash around his head. A moment of panic rushed through him as he fell into darkness. It was foolish though. He had been the one to tie it. He knew that at any moment, he could reach up and the sash would fall away. Instead of following through on that urge, he nervously tucked his hands into his lap. Fingers linked together as he sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for what was to come next.

Through the open window, a cool breeze blew its way in. It carried in the sounds he had grown accustomed to hearing, but tonight they were amplified. The water lapped across the silts, a rhythmic beat that matched the beating of his heart. The hairs on his arms stood on end as the buzzing of the insects matched the electric feeling racing through his body.

And the soft click of the door as it opened was like a gunshot in the night. A breathless chuckle escaped as he picked up on the heavy footsteps entering the room. Even without his boots on, his merman’s footfalls were steady and strong. A man on a mission.

His head tilted as he listened to the man’s trek through the room.The trip to the bed only took seconds, but it felt so much longer. Each step building the anticipation coursing through his body. And even though he knew the man was in front of him, he couldn’t help but jump as he felt fingertips graze his forehead, brushing back a lock of his hair. He was due for a haircut, but every time he had recently brought it up, his husband had convinced him to wait. The length was perfect for him to run his fingers through and give him that just fucked look, leaving the blonde blushing and the merman smirking. He really was an ass at times.

“You ready?” the merman whispered, as he continued to thread his fingers through the blonde’s hair.

“Where are we going?” His words were just as breathless as his earlier laugh. He couldn’t see it, but he knew the man above him was shaking his head.

“Trust me.”

A simple statement. One that was as easy to follow as taking his next breath. There was never any doubt of trusting the man looming above him. He trusted him with his life, with his heart.

So it was only natural for him to stand when he felt his hands being grasped, followed by a gentle tug. It never crossed his mind to worry about being led into a wall or a piece of furniture. And not a single bit of panic filled him when he realized he was being led outside and onto the sandy beach.

When they reached the shoreline, he did pause. The water was cool as it washed across the top of his feet, the sand squishy under his toes. The earlier breeze he felt was stronger here. Lifting a few strands of his hair and causing a shiver to run through him.

His hands slipped from his husband’s, but soon he found his hips in their grasp. A gasp squeaked out as he felt himself being lifted into the air. Not very fitting for a pirate captain. Before he could struggle, he was placed back on solid footing.

Well, as solid as a boat could be. He sank onto the bench as he felt the canoe being pushed further into the water. Another gasp escaped as the boat tilted and rocked from the merman jumping in. He tried to track the man’s movements as he set everything up, but it was harder out here. Too many sensations competing to take first place in his mind’s eye.

Soon though, the merman settled next to him on the bench and they were sailing off. He still had no clue where they were headed. The longer he sat in darkness, his fingers itched to remove the blindfold. But he didn’t. He didn’t need to see the islands as they passed, nor the stars shining above. Instead, he focused on the soft hums coming from the merman.

His siren’s call. A melodic hum meant only for him. His husband was blind to it, never quite realizing he did it. Always shaking his head when he would bring it up. That was okay, though. He would bask in these moments of true contentment. His voice might not have been refined as his brother’s, but to the blonde, there was no better sound. He let the song fill him as he closed his eyes behind the sash and sank into the man sitting next to him.

Time faded and became nonexistent. They could have been sailing for minutes or hours. It didn’t matter. He knew that wherever they ended up, it would be just the two of them. The two of them under a blanket of a thousand stars. Stars that dotted the night sky like the freckles splashed across his skin. His husband often would say there were too many to count but worthy of the hours spent trying.

Though eventually, the boat did come to a stop. The relaxation that had overcome his body fled as he heard the merman get up and fiddle around the boat. The urge to remove the blindfold grew to be almost too overwhelming. Just when he had reached his limit, he felt the blindfold slip away.

He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the moonlight. His gaze flitting around as he tried to discern where they were. There were small islands in the distance and the main ones further than the eye could see. Crystal clear water reflected the cloudless sky. He truly was in the middle of nowhere. He wasn’t alone though and that thought brought his gaze back to the other occupant in the boat.

Kneeling in front of him was the love of his life. In his hands, a single chocolate cupcake. He knew instantly it was from the little bakery in Strangerville, the one run by the sweet elderly woman who was a true master at baking. The chocolate ganache would melt across his tongue and the cake so heavenly moist. On top, a single candle flickered. Its flame competed to shine as bright as the stars in the sky.

“Happy Birthday, my darling pirate.’

Tears sprang to his eyes as his heart melted. His merman had remembered. From the mystery present left on the bed to the midnight sail. Every detail taken from his book. How had he not noticed til now?

He smiled as he leaned over. His eyes never left his husband’s gaze as he blew out the candle. Was it bad luck to not make a wish? It was something he was willing to risk. There was nothing he could imagine being better than this moment. Taking the cupcake from the merman, he set it aside. There was something he needed to do first, something more tempting than the sweet pastry.

Sliding from the bench, he fell into the merman’s arms. The kiss started out gentle, a simple press of the lips. A small taste not enough to quench a growing hunger. His tongue seeking entrance to the finest dessert. And once he tasted it, his moan echoed through the silent night.

His hands tangled in the merman’s hair. Positioning his head to the perfect position. He wasn’t the only one making his claims. Hands grasped his hips, pulling him closer. Fingertips gripping hard enough to bruise. Each trying to to get closer. It wasn’t enough though. Never enough.

As if hearing his frustrated thoughts, the heat between them bloomed even higher. Clenched hands loosened in favor of roaming. Each finding those spots that called to them, like a moth to the flame. Bare skin was revealed as clothes were tossed aside in the unending quest to sink into each other. Answering that need to be closer.

Just like in his novel, the night held still as they gave themselves to each other. Heart, body and soul. The pirate captain and his merman.

#ask desira #ask game answers #otp asks #dandylion240 #adonis mcneely facts #tuki tuhoro facts #sim spice #thanks for asking my friend #always delayed when answer your asks #but i'm chalking it up to you asking the tough ones #enjoy that fantasy #this was also way over 300 #but you know what #i'm always breaking the rules on these

20 notes · View notes

goldleafacrossyourlips · 4 years

Text

Uneasy Lies the Head - CAOS - Dark Lord/OC - Chapter 10

Chapters - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

A/N - Hey! Thank you so much to those that have reviewed and written to me. It really means a lot! I’ve finished writing and editing all chapters. Expect updates to happen a bit more frequently. Enjoy!

Chapter 10 - Violets and Yarrow

Samara slowly descended down the stairs, her hand trailing along the railing. Her brows were furrowed in frustration. She had just finished scrying with any of her clients that might have provided any answers. All of them were useless. Or rather clueless. She didn’t give intimate details but the basis of it was that none knew about the prophecy, let alone the Dark Lord wanting a Queen.

As she entered the kitchen once again, the sight of her family in disarray made her pause. Sabrina was the only one sitting, tear stained cheeks now dry. Her Aunties and Ambrose surrounded the table.

“Well I say. Not today, Satan.” Sabrina spat, causing Samara’s frown to deepen. She continued forward and stood beside Ambrose.

“What’d I miss?” She asked as everyone turned to look at her. Sabrina heaved a deep sigh.

“Basically my mother and father struck a deal with the Dark Lord to have me. Turns out my dad isn’t really my dad. The Dark Lord is. And he wants me to open the Gates of Hell this evening. Oh! And Nick fulfilled a favor from the Dark Lord by making sure I’m in this exact position.” Sabrina gave a very abridged version of what was going on. Samara felt her jaw drop. Before she could respond, Ms. Wardwell, who was actually Lilith, entered the room. Their attention quickly shifted to her. She glanced at them all before settling on Samara.

“Samara Spellman. The Dark Lord requests your presence. If you’ll come with me.” She gestured towards the door. Samara cast a look towards her family. They all wore nervous expressions. She turned towards the woman and began to follow her out of the house. She felt Phlox beginning to follow but sent a pulse of magick his way, letting him know to stay in the house. She felt his irritation with her but he did as she requested.

As they exited the house, Lilith grabbed her wrist and then they were teleporting. They landed in a sitting room of sorts. Samara didn’t even stumble as they landed, surprisingly. They took a seat in the plush armchairs in the corner of the room. They remained silent. Neither one knew the other and therefore had nothing to converse. Samara knew this woman wouldn’t give her answers. The only one who could was behind those doors.

“He’s ready for you.” A young man announced as he opened the doors. Lilith rose to her feet and escorted Samara into the room. They shared a final glance before Samara approached the railing before her.

She looked down into the room. An obscene amount of food laid sprawled across a large dining table in the center of the room. Only two chairs sat at the table, one of which was occupied. Samara felt like the air was being stolen from her lungs as she looked down at the figure. Her grip on the railing in front of her tightened as she took him in. The back of his chair was to the roaring fireplace so the lighting wasn’t the best. Her magick was going nuts! It was zipping through her body like a tornado. All reacting to the man sat down there. Her body shivered as he spoke.

“Welcome, Samara.” His voice was like silk and so very familiar. Her brows furrowed as her mind began to whirl. With a flick of his fingers the vacant seat to his right moved back in invitation. She set her head high and began descending the stairs to her left. As she reached the bottom one, his features were finally in view enough that she could trace them with her eyes; which widened in response. This was the man she had met in the clearing in her dream! Although this time he wore a velvet red shirt, she saw in disappointment. She was a little pleased that the shirt still exposed most of his upper chest though. Without her eyes leaving his figure, she sat primly in the seat he had moved. Before she could settle, his fingers twitched and she was being tucked into the table.

“We’ve met before.” Her voice was soft and she saw as his nose flared and his eyes drank her in. They continued to flit over her face and whatever wasn’t covered by the table. She shivered slightly from the intensity.

“We have.” He answered succinctly, his head bowing slightly, his gaze still unwavering. Samara’s eyes darted over all she could see of him, her hands balling tightly in her lap. Her magick had been buzzing louder and louder the closer she was to him.

“In a dream. Right after I was dying.” At her uttering of her almost death, his face twitched and his gaze hardened. He leaned towards her as he spoke.

“Believe me, my darling. You were in no danger of death. Nor will you ever be if I have any say in it.” His voice was low and certain. She tilted her head in interest. Since when was the Dark Lord so involved in the life or death of one of His subjects?

“You must know I have questions.” At her statement, his eyes glittered in amusement and he leaned back in his chair.

“Thus why I’ve had this feast spread before us. Eat, I will answer whatever puzzles you.” He gestured towards the frankly ridiculous amount of food on the table. Finally Samara broke their mutual stare and glanced around her. Before she could start picking through the closest items onto her plate, the Dark Lord had snapped his fingers and her favorites were filling it. Happily, she noticed as dark wine filled her cup. She delicately held the glass in her hand and sipped from it, the light, floral liquid swirling in her mouth. She hummed with content at the flavour, her eyes slipping shut. Wine was always her alcohol of choice.

“Seems a bit excessive for just the two of us. Are you expecting more company?” Samara asked lightly, the rim of her glass raised to her lips once again. His brow quirked at her question, his fingers drumming on his arm rest.

“Are you not deserving of such splendor?”

“I don’t know. Am I?” She countered, nibbling on a piece of bread. She heard him huff a soft laugh.

“My future Queen is deserving of anything She desires. Forgive me if my initial want is to provide the best for you.” He snarked, the corner of his lip twisting in a smirk. Samara’s eyes narrowed, and she tipped her glass towards him as she gestured.

“Then your future Queen wants the truth. I know you can answer all of my questions but I want them all answered with honesty. If you can’t extend even that courtesy then expect to remain alone until you can.” He grinned at her boldness. She knew not many, if any, spoke to him like she had. They were all too fearful. She supposed she should, but Samara was over being afraid. Her hunger for answers was too powerful.

“As you wish.” He bowed his head slightly. Samara felt her brows raise. That was much easier than she had expected.

“Okay….Right, then. I suppose the most obvious is, why? Why would you pick me to be Your Queen? I have no experience and very little desire to Rule.” Her hands, now free of objects, fiddled with her sleeves. She heard him hum as he considered his answer.

“I Chose You. There’s little more explanation than that I’m afraid.” His response caused her brows to furrow and nose to wrinkle. She cast a sharp look up at him.

“That’s an awful explanation. What does that even mean?! You Chose me? What? Why? I don’t come from money, or-or a place of standing! My mother was a potion-abuser and came from little recognition herself. She was a hateful woman and died alone, no one to mourn her death besides me! My father--I don’t even know who he is. But I’m sure if he came from a family of high standing they would have at least said something! I’m a nobody! I’m nothing.” Her speech began loud and firm but towards the end her voice softened, eyes beginning to glisten.

“As far as I know, I’m an orphan with a chosen family that likes to cause more trouble than anything. I run a little Apothecary and own a cottage in Colorado. My best friend is my familiar. I have absolutely nothing to offer you. So please, tell me. Why me?” Her voice quivered as she spoke. Her eyes downcast, watching her fingers as they played with her sleeves.

She felt a breeze tickle along the back of her neck that caused her to glance up. The Dark Lord now stood at her side, a hand extended towards her. His eyes were blazing like Hellfire housed inside. Tentatively she placed her left hand into his right. His large hand comfortingly engulfed her tiny one. Her magick that had been frantically buzzing throughout her froze. He tugged her out of her seat and stood close. Her head was tilted back far as she stared into his eyes. She felt the air displace behind her, and with a quick look the table, chairs and food were now missing. The middle of the room was now empty. Faintly she heard footsteps and doors closing as the room was vacated besides the two of them.

He led her to the center of the room, his silence causing her chest to tighten and her throat to clog. As he stopped, he raised his other hand and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. As he pulled away, something remained, and out of the corner of her eye Samara could see a violet flower. Her breath came to her a bit easier after that.

“You are not, nor have you ever been nothing. I Chose You, not because of your birth or heritage. Your mother and father were nothing, that you can be certain.” He began, her left hand he had in his grasp, he settled on his right arm. He firmly settled his right hand on her waist, clasped her right hand in his left and tugged her closer. Then he started to sway to a tune only he could hear. Samara, none the wiser, easily followed his lead.

“I felt it when you were conceived. All my years of living and I had never felt such a thing. I could never explain it but I knew that whoever it was, was meant to be mine.” At his last word, he pulled her even closer, his swaying now turning into steps as he led them to dance she instinctively knew. “I found your mother easily. She often struck deals with me. Her fear of living made it fun to toy with her. I knew she would never be a fit mother. So as you still laid in her womb, I gifted you. They reside with you still. My future Consort had to stand out from the rest afterall.”

“My Shadows.” She breathed, enraptured as he weaved his tale. She didn’t notice how she’d never misstepped during their dance, her movements easily matching his.

“Precisely. I knew I couldn’t interfere with you. That you had to grow on your own without My influence. So I gave you a gift that could protect you even when I wasn’t there. And they did. Your mother died a coward’s death. Your father too. He died after selling out his Community to witch-hunters. He was nothing more than an ingredient collector for a well known Apothecary. They both reside within my realm, suffering as is their right.” He affirmed, his blue eyes sparkling as he twirled them around the room. Samara’s eyes never leaving his.

“I watched as you grew with the Spellman’s. I watched as you blossomed into a beautiful, powerful young woman. Then Blackwood caused your confidence to crumble. He will be dealt with, my darling, rest assured. I watched as you collapsed into yourself and then you ran. I wanted nothing more than to have you at my side, to show you that here, nothing can touch you. I won’t let it.” His left hand released her right, which she placed on his chest. He used his free hand to trail a finger across her cheekbone, to cradle it in his large palm. Her eyes slipped closed as he did so, their steps still swirling around the floor.

“I knew, as mortal as it is to say, that you were made to complete Me. And I You. Don’t you feel it? Something in you has awoken. It has filled a part of you that you never knew even existed. It is why your magic reacts so strongly to Me and My presence. And Mine to Yours.” His voice had taken on a slight pleading quality. Her eyes snapped open to peer into his.

“I knew I had to have you as my Queen. So I gifted you. Your Shadows. The powers that you’ve had since the defeat of those angels. Everything I have done for you. So that you can thrive by my side and Rule. I wanted this Earth to tremble before you, every being upon it Our subjects. I still do. My only question is do you?” At his question Samara worried her lip between her teeth. His thumb slipped down to gently tug it from its prison.

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about Ruling or being a Queen.” She confessed, her eyes darting back and forth between his own. Her hand on his chest softly rubbed at the material beneath it.

“I will show you. You have no clue how much you already know. How you place strangers beneath you and will over them. Yes, you will need work in standing against your family’s ire but worry not. You will be at My side and I at Yours. Anything you desire I will have at your feet. You need only ask. Say yes.” He spoke softly, his voice earnest, the hand on her waist slipping around behind her, to settle on her back. His breath ghosting over her lips. She gathered her confidence before she responded.

“I will say yes to being Your Queen. However, I will not Rule. Not yet. There’s still so much I don’t know. But I can’t deny how right it feels to be here, with You.” Her answer momentarily threatened to cause a frown to form on his face, but after a second a grin grew. He halted their dance, the fire light highlighting the genuine joy he held on his face. Samara was sure her expression looked the same.

“Then please allow me to do this.” He breathed and leaned closer, pulling her flush against his tall body. Samara’s hands gripped at his arm and twisted in his shirt.

Finally his lips brushed against hers. Once, twice, three times. At the third time he hummed contentedly. His arm wrapped around her waist keeping her flush against him, his hand cradling her jaw slipped to the side of her neck and tilted her back even more. She gasped as he nipped her bottom lip. He was quick to invade, his tongue exploring hers. A soft moan built in her throat as he continued, taking what he wanted. As oxygen began to become a problem for her, he pulled away slightly. His lips now trailing from the corner of hers, across her cheek, her jaw and down her neck. Soft little kisses that had flames licking up her back and settling in her belly. Her gasps and heavy breaths echoed around the room as she stared up at the ceiling. Her hand left his chest to climb up and tangle her fingers in his silky hair. As she tightened her grip, a groan escaped him. A smile built upon her swollen lips as she began to tug his hair lightly. That smile was quickly wiped away, a pout in its place when he began pulling away.

A chuckle left him as his pupil-blown eyes devoured her. His gaze kept darting towards her lips. Her hand had slipped from his hair as he stood to his full height and she slid it down his neck to again rest it against his chest. Her fingers splayed against his thudding heart and stroking the exposed skin there. He huffed a breath before darting down and enveloping her lips with his twice more, in stealing little presses.

“Just as addicting as I feared. How will I ever manage to get anything done with you around, my little flower?” His voice was raspy as he spoke. Samara felt the flames flickering inside her fan up at it. She quirked her lips at his question though.

“You? You’ve had who knows how many millenia to practice. What about me? How will I learn anything from you, when you’re so You!” Her exclamation held laughter in it. She watched enraptured as he craned his head back and laughed deeply. His eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked back down at her again.

“We’ll learn together then.” He stroked his thumb along her jaw causing her to hum. She blinked up at him, her hand coming up to rest around his wrist.

“I still have questions.” She felt him heave a deep breath, the mirth leaving his eyes, leaving content in its place.

“I still have answers. But after. You must go and prepare. Tonight will be Our glorious ascension. Your coronation will have all the aristocracy of Hell. Then we will dance the Mephisto Waltz for all to see. After is when I’ll answer anything you might have.” He grasped the hand, gripping his and brought it up to where he pressed soft lips against her knuckles. Eventually he stepped back, releasing her from his grip besides the hand he continued to hold. She squeezed his hand before stepping back herself.

“In the meantime, while you prepare, Sabrina will be opening the Gates of Hell for me. Then she too will join you in preparing for the Coronation. There she will be announced Our Sword.” He explained, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. Samara hummed once again. His gaze softened as he looked her over again.

“I will be seeing you this evening, my darling. Safe travels.”

“See you.” She whispered before closing her eyes and teleporting to her room at the Spellmans. One of the biggest benefits to her new powers was the ease of teleporting. Now she no longer felt like she was squished and ripping apart. Now she just appeared where she wanted.

She walked forward and fell into the bed, her face buried in her pillows. She felt Phlox stalk up the bed to curl against her hip and laze there. She lifted her head out of the pillow and rested her cheek against it. She kept her eyes closed and just immersed herself in what she was feeling.

Lucifer was right when he said something in her had been awoken. Not just her powers but perhaps it was that very same night it had happened. She could feel where she was full now, when before she didn’t even realize there was something missing! Either way, since her meeting with him, her magick had never felt so calm, so settled.

She still had an undercurrent of worry. However now it was much less. At his reassurances she had calmed. Instinctually she knew he’d never let her fail in a catastrophic way. She also knew that everything he’d uttered during their meeting had been true. The Father of Lies hadn’t lied to her, not even once.

So, deep inside in a part that was only for her and him, she began to wonder. Wonder what it’d be like to be His Queen. What life they’d lead. She knew he’d treat her well. She also knew, somewhere deep down, that she had the power to hurt him if he didn’t treat her well. Still, she continued to wonder about him and her and the future. Their future. Sure, she still had questions pertaining to that future and how Sabrina came to play the role that she was, but Samara rested easy in the knowledge that he’d give her the answers she wanted after that night.

She glanced at the clock on the wall beside her and decided she could stand to nap for a couple hours before starting to get ready for her Coronation. And really, how odd was that to think of. She shook her mind clear of the thought and settled into the bed, Phlox’ head resting on her lower back. She hummed as her eyes slipped closed. Unconsciously her brows furrowed as she felt a spark of rage ping through her chest before it was banished from her mind and she slipped into a gentle sleep.

#caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #original female character #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x oc #lucifer morningstar x ofc #satan x oc #satan x reader #satan x ofc #sabrina #spellman #fanfic #fanfiction #ambrose #Hilda #zelda

51 notes · View notes

tinybangtanangel · 4 years

Text

★~BTS REALITY~★

BTS is holding a special reality series with fans as a celebration of ten years performing. The goal is simple, be the last girl standing and you might win yourself a big ol' prize.

Now who in their right mind would pass up on an opportunity like this? Definitely not you.

Rated: M (it doesn’t seem like it now, but it’ll get there eventually)

Relationship: OT7/Reader

1 | 2 | ?

Chapter 2: ★ INTERVIEW★

Unfortunately, the ride was not as long as you had anticipated. As quickly as you had fallen asleep, Mr. Park was shaking you awake moments later telling you you had arrived.

The hotel wasn’t as luxurious you had expected it to be, but it was cozy. Cold air welcomed you as you walked through the doors, the contrast in temperature from outside further waking you up. As you lounge on the comfy lobby couch, Mr. Park was talking to the receptionist, probably getting your room set up for you. You had to make sure to thank him later.

As you slumped into the couch, your mind wandered back to the interview. BigHit hadn’t mentioned any requirements besides the designated day and location within the email. Supposedly you were going to be given the information regarding your specific interview later today, though a specific time of when you weren’t sure. You glanced over at Mr. Park, trying to gauge how things were doing.

He seemed deep in conversation still, though things seemed to be running smoothly. You were too tired to translate what was being said between him and the lobby receptionist, instead, settling on going back to running over tomorrow's plans. Your mind soon begins generating questions that could be asked tomorrow.

Question one, ‘Why do you deserve to be on this show?’

You blanch at the question. How were you supposed to answer this without sounding entitled? On second thought, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, it was only adding to your stress for tomorrow. So caught up in your thoughts, you don’t notice Mr. Park making his way towards you as you continue trying to come up with an answer to the difficult question.

“Are you ready for room?” Mr. Park asks. You gasp, startled. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, and quickly stand, leaning on your suitcase for support.

“Yes, yes, thank you, Mr. Park,” you respond shakily, still startled by the interruption.

You follow Mr. Park as he leads you to your room silently. You feel tense as you walk behind him, too tired and stressed to make conversation.

When you arrive at the room, Mr. Park turns to you with the key.

“My boss was going come here, but he busy, so he’ll email, okay?” He says, using his hands to enunciate the words.

Taking the offered key card, you bow slightly and unlock your door.

“Yes, I understand, thank you Mr. Park” you respond. Bowing once more, you turn and enter your room, immediately making your way towards the bed. A soft click sounds as the door closes behind you.

Closing your eyes, you sigh. You could feel a headache ebbing its way at your temple from lack of sleep and the toll of a long flight on your body. You turn towards your phone one last time to check your email for any updates; but alas nothing new. Great.

Pulling your shoes off, you plug in your phone and set an alarm for three hours. Hopefully, you could get some sleep for now, and later you would check your email for updates on the interview. You tuck the sheets tightly around you and quickly drift to sleep.

----------

Three hours later the shrill tone of your phone is jolting you awake. Clumsily flinging your hands, you seek your phone on the dresser beside you.

Why was it so hard to shut the damn thing off.

Two minutes and many aggressive taps later, the alarm had quieted. Groggily, you open the email app, clicking your inbox for anything new.

You find BigHit’s email and begin to read through the information. Your interview was at 12:30 pm. You hoped the staff wouldn’t be too tired by then, especially with having to go through the same interviews over and over again. Luckily for you, though, this gave you enough time to wake up at a comfortable time and choose a nice outfit for the day, worry-free. You hum, content with the information given. You continue to read down the email but stop short when your eyes hit the next line.

Though it is not guaranteed, the seven men of BigHit’s BTS may decide to make an appearance during the interview process, in which we ask that you kindly pay them no mind and carry on answering our questions.

In an instant, your mind was reeling at this unexpected statement. Your palms grew sweaty and you could feel your heartbeat pick up pace.

How could they just drop this on you and not expect you to freak out?

Sure you wanted to meet the guys, it was the dream of a lifetime, but how were you expected to sit there and answer questions normally with seven international idols watching you?

“Ugh” you cringed inwardly, slapping your hands onto your face. This added pressure was not what you needed right now.

You slowly unravel yourself from the sheets and walk your way towards the bathroom. At that moment a hot shower sounded like the perfect way to clear your head.

Except now here you were, naked and burning in scalding water, still freaking out over the fact BTS could decide to make an appearance during your interview. How you were going to manage a full night of sleep with this knowledge was beyond you.

After you’re sure your skin has peeled off from the sheer temperature of your shower alone, you step out, grabbing the fluffy hotel towel closest to you.

Drying yourself off, you sift through your luggage for your pajamas before making your way back back to the bed. Despite the three hour nap you had taken, you were still tired, though you weren’t sure you’d be getting much sleep now with your mind still overwhelmed with thoughts of what may happen tomorrow.

Sighing to yourself, you reach over and shut the lights off. Whatever happens tomorrow is out of your control now, no use losing sleep over it. You close your eyes to the darkness and allow yourself to fall back into sleep.

------------

You were running late.

Waking up at 10, despite getting more than enough sleep, was not a part of the plan. You had only woken up when room service came knocking at your door, in which you leaped out of bed when realizing the time. Now you only had 2 hours to pick an outfit, do your makeup, and make it to the interview on time.

Rummaging through your clothing, you begin throwing clothes into piles around you. Finding an outfit was proving to be difficult and your time was running out.

Finally, you settled on wearing a short floral summer dress, it was a flush pink that made you feel cute. You weren’t fully comfortable wearing dresses casually, but this one was easy to wear and could easily match with a plain pair of sandals.

Running to the bathroom you check the time, 10:45 am, you were going to have to leave your hair natural. You quickly apply your makeup, opting for a more natural look since you were already running behind.

Finally finished, you make your way through the room, grabbing your wallet, phone, and charger for your trip out. As you pass your room mirror your attention shifts towards your reflection and you pause, taking yourself in.

You squint at the details of your face and body staring back at you. Admittedly, you looked cute, you wouldn’t deny that, but thinking of the other girls applying today you most likely were nothing special. Who knew what the other applicants looked like, either way, ugly or pretty, you were going to have to do more than look good to get noticed by BigHit. Shaking your head, you carry on, now was not the time to dwell deeply on these thoughts.

As you leave the room, you close the door behind you, jogging lightly to the elevator down the hall. You hadn’t seen anything about transportation in the email, so you had assumed you were going to have to call a taxi to get to your appointment.

Stepping into the elevator, you press the lobby button hurriedly. You tapped your foot with impatience as the machine glided down to your destination.

The elevator jerks to a stop and you hop out the elevator quickly. Checking your phone once again the time flashes on the screen, 11:45 a.m. Shit.

Looking outside, you spot a couple of cars lined up in the front driveway of the hotel drop off area. Hoping for the best you, speed walk out of the building, heading straight towards the cars. As you approach them you wave to one of the cars hoping it is a taxi.

The man in the front of the car gives you a slight nod and it’s all you need to wrangle the door open the moment your hand hits the handle. Jumping into the back you collect your purse near you and tell the driver the address.

“5 30-gil, Hakdong-ro, Floor Yangjin Plaza 5F, I’m heading to Bighit headquarters” you yelp out.

Though he says nothing, you assume he heard you as he begins driving wordlessly. The adrenaline is still coursing through you and you can feel your hands trembling slightly in your lap.

Looking through your phone camera, you check your makeup and hair in hopes of distracting yourself from your nerves and making sure nothing was ruined in the rush. Taking a deep breath does nothing to stop the trembling of your hands.

You notice the city passing by and you stare in amazement. You had always dreamt of traveling to Korea and exploring its many cities, though you couldn’t do much exploring now. Maybe you could try checking out shops in the area after the interview, and if worse came to worst, and you weren’t chosen for the show, you could always travel through Korea with the time you had left here.

You feel the car come to a stop, the tall glass building in front of you indicating you had arrived. Quickly paying the driver, you make your way towards the leering building.

After stepping through the sliding doors, you look around lost before making a beeline to the front desk. You were nervous, unsure of what to do now that you were here.

“Hello,” you start nervously, placing your warm hands on the desk, “I’m here for my interview at 12:30” One of the receptionists eyes you suspiciously and you begin to fidget nervously.

“Name?” she asks, turning back towards her computer.

“Um, (y/n) (l/n), it’s the interview for the BTS show” you answer.

She types in what you’re assuming is the information you just gave her, before printing a piece of paper and making her way around the desk separating the two of you.

“If you’d follow me please.” She hands you the paper, which you read has your name and interview details, and begins walking towards the elevators down the hall. Jogging lightly to keep up with the receptionist's long strides, you make sure to stay close behind her, not wanting to get lost.

By the time you reach the interview room (on the 3rd floor as you had made sure to remember), you are already sweating from the effort of trying to keep up with the receptionist. The woman had long legs.

“You can take a seat here until they call you in.” The receptionist points to a chair outside of the doorway.

You nod in acknowledgment and place yourself down into the chair, “Thank you.”

With a curt smile, she bows quickly and exits swiftly, most likely returning to the front desk you had first approached her at.

As you sit and wait, curiosity gnaws its way into your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder who was in the room and what they were talking about.

Just as you begin moving your ear towards the said room, the door slams open, causing you to jump back in fear. People begin exiting the room and you try to straighten yourself as though you hadn’t almost just been caught eavesdropping.

Looking up, your breath stutters as you catch sight of the most gorgeous girl you have ever laid eyes on. She was tall and pale, her skin practically poreless. Despite her baggy sweater, you could make out her curves as she sashayed her way out of the room. Her hair was long and glossy, the black color complimenting her pale skin. You realize your staring and hurriedly turn away towards the nearby wall.

You can hear her laughing before she says something in Korean, something you can’t quite catch. But soon after a second voice is responding. A deep and very familiar voice. One you’re sure you’ve heard before. Swiveling your head back to the beautiful stranger your jaw drops at the scene before you.

Not only is this woman gorgeous, but she’s having a very amusing conversation with the seven other boys of Bangtan. A gasp escapes you involuntarily and you turn your head away once again, you didn’t want them to notice you.

Before you can delve further into the situation you had just witnessed, a woman calls your name from the room.

“(y/n) (l/n), if you could please enter, it’s time for your interview.”

The chair squeaks as you stand up and briskly make your way into the room.

There are 4 people inside seated at a long table. In front of the table is a single chair illuminated by a studio light. It reminded you of picture days back when you were younger.

Each person at the table has papers in front of them in what you assume is a script of the questions as they wait for your arrival.

You gulp nervously before walking in the direction of the woman who had called your name. She leads you to the center chair before walking away, leaving you alone, and feeling vulnerable.

You want to close your eyes and think, some time to calm your raging nerves. If you were going to get through this, you had to act confident, even if you didn’t feel it.

You straighten your posture, pushing your shoulders back, head up, and turn your eyes straight, looking directly at the group in front of you. You were going to get through this.

A cough escapes a man on the far right of the table, catching your attention. He looks to be around late-40’s maybe older, with salt and pepper hair and slight wrinkles around his eyes. He smiles as you face him.

“Hello (y/n), welcome to your interview for BTS Reality,” he starts with a warm tone, “I hope your stay has been comfortable so far. Now if we may, we’d like to start by asking you some questions.”

You nod in response and make sure to smile. “Of course.”

“Okay great!” He exclaims happily, “For starters, my name is Bang Si-Hyuk, next to me is Lenzo Yoon, Tae-Sung Jeong, and Kim U-taek.” Looking down the line, you give each man a nod and return your gaze to Bang Si-Hyuk. “So (y/n), tell me, do you have any hobbies?”

You still, surprised at the question. It was much simpler than what you had initially expected, putting you at slight ease. Quickly regaining your composure, you wring your hands together and let out a nervous giggle.

“Well,” you start, “I enjoy a bit of everything, I wouldn’t say there’s one particular thing that I have a strong passion for. It’s always been kind of an issue of mine, my inability to stick to one thing.” laughing at yourself, you begin speaking more comfortably, “But when I’m home I enjoy baking and cooking new foods, I also don’t mind trying to sew new things, though most of the time it doesn’t work out. At the end of the day, I’m just someone who tries everything and hopes to have fun doing it.” You finish your answer happily, momentarily forgetting the men sitting in front of you.

All the men seem slightly intrigued at your answer, the one on the far left, Kim U-taek, speaking next.

“You said you like adventure? Could you please elaborate for me (y/n).” Crossing your legs, you smooth your dress.

“Of course,” you respond lightly, “I will admit, I enjoy doing things that are out of my comfort zone. Things such as zip-lining and tubing are things I always love. But I can be hesitant at times before getting on scary roller coasters.” At this, you hear some of the men chuckle. Smiling yourself, you continue. “You could say I love a challenge, overcoming something I didn’t think I could, and something that many others couldn’t. It’s the competitive nature in me, I have to win.”

The four nod impressed, and scribble into their papers, you wanted desperately to know what they were writing. Did you do good?

Bang Si-Hyuk’s voice interrupts your mental questions suddenly with one of his own.

“What are your plans for the future?”

“Oh!” you exclaim happily. Your future is something you loved to think about often, so answering this question was no issue. “Right now I’m in my third year of university, but I hope to one day graduate medical school and become a pediatrician.”

The man in the middle of the table, who you think is Lenzo Yoon, interrupts you, “That’s refreshing to hear, most people so far have said they wanted to be singers or dancers, I was beginning to worry.” He finishes with a hearty laugh.

“I can imagine many people feel a sense of opportunity saying that here,” you respond politely. You couldn’t blame those who had tried putting their name out there, it was hard nowadays to make it big in the entertainment industry.

“Yes, well, please,” Lenzo Yoon waves his hand in a circular motion, “continue.”

“Well, I’ve always had a soft spot for children, often contemplating whether being a teacher or nanny would be better suited for me. I eventually settled on becoming a pediatrician because I felt in that position I can truly help children’s needs,” you answer. “I’ve often been referred to as the mother of the group since people have always thought I act mature for my age.”

“I see, so you’d say you act mature for your age? I see here it says you’re 21, much younger than all of the band members.” Bang Si-Hyuk states. It was true, the oldest being almost 10 years older than you.

“Yes, I’ve been told countless times I am very mature for my age.” you speedily affirm.

The men return to writing their findings onto paper while you sit and wait for them to finish. Once all men place their pens down, they stand obliging you to do the same. Walking over to you, Bang Si-Hyuk holds his arm out for you to shake.

“Thank you for today (y/n), we will make sure to get back to you by tomorrow with our results. Best of luck, I hope to see you again.” Firmly grasping, you excitedly shake his hand. You make sure to bow to him and the other three men once more before exiting the room.

On your way out, your mind wanders back to the encounter you had earlier with the girl and BTS. You weren’t necessarily jealous, but you felt, for lack of a better word, strange. Not because she had been talking to them, but because you knew they were here, yet they hadn’t made an appearance at your interview.

Instantly you scold yourself for even feeling bad over something like that as if they didn’t have other things to do besides listening to people answer questions about themselves. They were busy people, they probably had practice to go to and only had time for one interview today. You felt the guilt settling in as you entered the elevator to return to the first floor.

Exiting the elevator, you walk towards the entrance of the building, making sure to wave bye to the receptionist who had helped you earlier. The gust of fresh air is refreshing when you leave, it has the cooling effect you need after the stress you endured this morning. Although you wanted nothing more than to return to your hotel, snuggle up in your comfy bed and watch T.V., you were starving.

You were going to have to grab some food to go before you could think about laying down and relaxing. You retrieve your phone from your purse and type in a search for food nearby. You felt like walking and getting some fresh air.

By the time you arrive at the restaurant, your stomach is rumbling, the interview and walk had taken a number on you. A bell rings above you, alerting the staff of your arrival.

“Hello!” a young voice greets you in Korean. “How can we help you?” A teenage girl, likely still in high school, stands before you.

“Hello,” you return the greeting in Korean, “I was hoping to order food to go.” She nods and hands you a menu to look over.

“Sure, here’s a menu, let me know when you’re ready to order.” You nod in response, already distracted by the food presented to you on the menu.

Once you’re ready you call over the girl and relay your order. After taking your order, she goes on serving other customers, leaving you alone.

As you stand and wait for your food, a familiar laugh catches your attention. It sounded exactly like the girl from the interview, though you weren’t completely sure. The laughter continues and your resolve of not going over and investigating slowly begins to crumble. Hesitantly, you make your way towards the source, leading you farther back into the restaurant.

You approach what seems to be a doorway leading deeper into the restaurant. Looking around you, you make sure no one notices what you’re doing.

You had some time before your order was ready, and if anyone asked, you were looking for the bathroom.

Swiftly shoving yourself through the doorway, you’re met with the sight of two or three doors, all leading to rooms where you can see tables made for groups of people to eat at. You look over to your right, the only occupied room and practically jump back in shock.

There, in all her glory, was the beautiful girl from earlier eating with none other than BTS.

#ot7 x you #ot7 #bts #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #taehyung x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #reader #female reader #(y/n)#reality tv au #idol bts #angst #fluff #comedy #competition

37 notes · View notes

algorizmi · 4 years

Note

red gold pink grey copper

Red: What’s really attractive in a person (physically and not)?

Thinking about stuff, that's a big one. Taking ideas seriously (to the rats reading this, you are each very attractive), acting intentionally, that sort of thing. To use an example: One of my partners put self-closing hinges and magnetic door stops on their doors so they close without effort and are easy to leave open when desired. I just eat up that sort of attention to detail.

At least one special interest, kinda hard to relate to someone without any interests. One person I had a crush on was really into board games, and when we played their favorites it was attractive just how wide a margin they could beat me by.

Physical features aren’t what draw me in but once you’re into somebody it’s easy to find things to like; That said, foreskins are always fun.

Gold: What’s your most recent accomplishment?

Greased a pulley in my dryer. Much quieter now :) Small accomplishment, but I’ll take it.

Pink: What’s your biggest/weirdest pet peeve?

Answering a yes or no question then elaborating such that your one word is the opposite of what you mean. I probably have weirder ones but none come to mind. Hard to remember since I don’t interact with many people who annoy me these days.

Grey: What are you wearing right now?

A floral-print collared shirt with the bow tie undone. That’s it. 10 months of isolation and 2 feet of snow do that to a person.

Copper: Random question of your choosing.

How big is your ‘bubble’?

Just myself at the moment, rejoining a group of 5 in a week.

#citrus #ask meme #Anonymous

4 notes · View notes

kieraswriting · 4 years

Text

Human/Fairy Relations 4

1 2 3 4

Continued from a story based on a prompt from @arc852

Flowers were springing up, and it was getting warmer every day, so Thomas and Patton packed up their few belongings and prepared to move back into the town house.

Thomas was heading back first, since Patton wanted to try and say goodbye to Logan.

He unlocked the door and set down his pack heavily on the floor. The house smelled musty, and would need a good cleaning. In from cracks in the windowframes came little springs of ivy. Honestly, all the windows would have to be replaced. Thomas did not know how to replace windows. Well, he’d figure something out.

He built up a fire and set his biggest pot filled with water on it to heat up. He’d dip out enough for tea, and use the rest to clean.

He scoured the kitchen and mopped the rest of the downstairs, which really wasn’t all that big, mostly just a living room and a couple closets. Then he went upstairs. He had two bedrooms, his own, and one that was now Patton’s.

He went into Patton’s first, stripping the sheets off the bed and pulling down the curtains. They’d all have to be washed. Then he went into his own room, but as he stripped the sheets off, there was a tiny shriek, and something flew across the room and smacked into the wall. Thomas dropped the sheet immediately.

“Oh! I didn’t mean to fling you like that! Are you alright?”

He knelt near the fairy, which was just starting to get back on its feet. It was Virgil.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—didn’t know where else—I—“

There was a silence for a few seconds while Thomas tried to figure out what Virgil was apologizing for.

“MynameisVirgil!” He suddenly burst out, screwing his eyes shut.

Thomas felt an odd tingle run down his back.

“I have some tea made,” he started. “Why don’t we go downstairs, calm down, have some tea, and discuss this properly.”

“You mean that isn’t enough?” Virgil said, his voice nearly breaking.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Let’s have some tea first, and then we can talk.”

Virgil nodded, and flew up to shoulder level, following Thomas downstairs.

Thomas made two cups of tea, one with way too much sugar, and settled back to drink his tea. Virgil took a few sips from the cup, and his wings fluttered happily, but his face was downcast.

“S-so what now?”

“First I’d like a complete explanation of what exactly is going on,” Thomas said. “I’ve heard that you got kicked out of your village, and now you’re in my house, but I don’t know what all else.”

“I was banished, and it was getting colder, and I didn’t know where to go, but your house was empty, so I stayed here for the winter. I-I broke the laws of hospitality by staying without asking, but I thought that my name would be enough to pay it back.”

Thomas nodded. Hospitality laws were a fairy thing, and he didn’t know all the details, but it wasn’t like he could return the name.

“So then, since you gave me your name, are you gonna be my new roommate?”

Virgil blinked. “Um… if you want me to stay, but—“

“I would like it if you stayed.”

Virgil blinked again. “Why? I thought—I thought you hated me?”

“No! No, I never hated you! I was mad about being kidnapped and all, but I hurt you too. I was honestly worried you wouldn’t ever want to see me again.”

Virgil shook his head. “No, you just tried to get away. It’s my own fault for letting you.”

The front door opened, and Patton set down a heavy pack next to Thomas’s.

“I’m home!” He came into the kitchen. “Oh! Hello.”

“Hi,” Virgil said, moving to the side to put the teacup in between himself and Patton.

“Virgil’s going to be our new roommate,” Thomas said.

Virgil shuddered.

“Are you alright?” Thomas asked. “If you don’t want to-“

“No, it’s a name thing,” Patton said. “If you call his name he gets… like… it kind of hurts I think?”

“I had no idea!” Thomas protested immediately.

“It’s not really that painful,” Patton said thoughtfully. “But you definitely notice it. I got around it by calling Logic Lo sometimes, or Logic.”

“You can call me Virge,” Virgil said.

“Ok, thank goodness. I don’t want to walk on eggshells about names. What if I say that I’m not giving you my name, but you can call me Thomas?”

Patton nodded.

“That works,” Virgil said.

••^*^••

The house was filled with smoke again. Thomas and Patton opened the door and all the windows, evacuating to the yard.

“Do you think you could ask whatever fairy keeps doing this to stop?” Thomas asked, coughing.

“He’s pretty mad at you. You’d have to pay him.” Virgil said.

“Pay him what?”

Virgil shrugged. “I can ask?”

“Please do.”

Virgil flitted away, and took a while to come back, but when he did there was another fairy in tow.

The other fairy was larger than most fairies, and had his arms crossed over his chest.

“You won’t get me to leave,” he said as soon as he was within earshot. “I’ve got permission from the prince to be here.”

“Not even if we paid you?” Patton asked.

“You broke my house!” The fairy yelled. “I won’t leave until I’ve done the same to yours!”

“What?” Thomas said. “I didn’t think—“

“He built my old house,” Virgil whispered from his position on Thomas’s shoulder.

“Oh.”

There was a tense silence for a few minutes. Just as the fairy turned to leave, Thomas had an idea.

“Wait! Um, just a minute!” He ran inside and went to the hall closet, emptying the middle shelf and propping the door open.

The other fairy followed him in, and frowned down at him.

“What if I paid you to build Virge another house here?”

Thomas didn’t say, but secretly hoped, that once the fairy had built something, he wouldn’t chance it getting ruined by attacking the human house any longer.

“How do I know you aren’t just going to smash it again?”

“We can empty out the closet completely, and lock the door, and put a fairy sized door in it. I wouldn’t open it. But if it’s going to be the whole closet, you’d better make it nice, with plenty of guest rooms.”

The fairy’s frown didn’t leave, but there was a bright glint in his eye as he sized up the closet.

“You’d empty out the human things, but leave the platforms?” He clarified.

Thomas nodded, assuming he meant the shelves.

“And how much are you thinking to pay me?” The fairy asked.

“Having been inside Virge’s old house, I could see that your level of craftsmanship must be very high,” Thomas said, hoping to flatter the fairy. “I couldn’t begin to put a price on it.”

The fairy’s hovering bounced around erratically, which Thomas hoped meant the flattery had worked.

“You provide the materials, and food for me and my helpers, and I’ll have it done in a fortnight.” The fairy said.

Thomas was shocked at how little the fairy was asking, and readily agreed.

••^*^••

Patton loved baking, and he certainly got to do as much as he wanted. Fairies loved sweet things, and he made batch after batch of cookies and scones and tiny cakes. All eaten, or secreted away somewhere.

Virgil usually hovered around Thomas’s shoulder, unless Thomas went into town, just as quiet as he had always been. Patton suspected that Virgil had more to say than he actually said, and he knew Thomas thought the same way, but Virgil was typically silent. He seemed happy just to hang around.

It was the last day. By sunset they would close the closet door, lock it, and never open it again. Inside was a complex house, mostly made of natural materials, but with several distinct additions from Thomas’s belongings, such as two bathtubs made from teacups. It was large enough it could have easily housed fifteen or twenty fairies, and would be a mansion for Virgil alone. Patton hoped that Logan would visit.

Patton pulled out the pan of thumbprint cookies, the jelly bubbling a bit. He set them all on a plate and took it outside. He had a pot of floral tea, and a whole bowl of sugar as well.

“Lunch is ready!” He called, and soon there were five fairies, each lifting a cookie nearly as big as they were, and eating eagerly.

To his surprise, he could see two more fairies coming, but these were coming from the direction of the forest.

“Lo! Ro! Hi! I didn’t expect you!” Patton greeted.

Roman bowed, and Logan followed suit. “I have come to see what it is drawing so many of my people away.”

“We’re building a fairy house!” Patton said. “Oh, wait, you don’t mind, do you?”

Roman chuckled. “I’d like to see it first, and to talk with Thomas.”

Patton was slightly worried that Roman knew Thomas’s name, but he still led him inside.

Thomas was sitting on the floor opposite the closet, watching as the windows were being put into the door. He had told Patton that he hoped to learn from watching the fairies do it, so he could replace the rotting windows in the house.

“Hey, Pat. Who are these?”

“This is The Prince, and Logic,” Patton said, not really daring to use their names.

Thomas nodded respectfully. “To what do I owe this honor?”

Roman smiled. “I’ve come to inquire why you’re doing this.”

“Specifically, I wanted a house for Virge, and I wanted my house to not be under attack any more. But in general— I’m aware that we parted badly. I was angry at fairies, and I’m sure you were angry with me as well. I wish to restore the Human/Fairy relations.”

Roman nodded. “You are aware that you do not speak for all humans, as I do not speak for all fairies?”

“I am. I can only speak for myself and Patton, but we want to have good relationships with you.”

Roman nodded again. “You may say that, and your actions so far may support it, but clever humans have said the same before, only to capture my people and kill them.”

Thomas nodded slowly. “As a gesture of goodwill, then, to you alone, Prince. If I ever turn against you, you may have my name, Thomas Sanders.”

Roman’s eyebrows shot up, and he smiled. “That is acceptable. You are given permission to call me by my name, Roman. I hope to establish a friendship between my people and yours.”

Roman shifted into human form, though he looked rather less human than Logan ever did, and stuck out his hand for Thomas to shake.

Thomas smiled and shook his hand. “I also hope to be friends with you, Roman. Would you like to join me for lunch?”

••^*^••

It wasn’t long after when Virgil’s banishment was revoked, as well as whatever punishment had been given to Logan. He never would say what it was.

Thomas and Patton lived happily in the town house for many years, even though the townspeople pulled away from them more and more as time went by. Eventually, the town itself, as it grew, pulled away, and their house was outside the town. Thomas bought several of the acres around the house, and Patton grew the most beautiful garden in the country. The garden was always filled with fairies, not that just anyone could see them, but it was always clear when stepping in that there was much magic in the air.

Thomas, as it turned out, had an affinity for magic, and Logan taught him what he could. As a team, Thomas, Roman, and Virgil defeated a dragon that had been plaguing the kingdom, and the king gave them enough gold to live happily and without concern, no matter how long they might live.

#character!thomas #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides g/t #g/t #Human/fairy relations

30 notes · View notes